“This one, he knows all the best places. He and his father used to go fishing up and down the coast, trying all the restaurants and buying little trinkets for his mama. I keep telling them they should start hosting tours—all the other ones around town are so stale and circle through the same tourist traps—and every time they refuse to listen.”
Nico’s shaking his head like he’s heard this all before, but I’m interested. Lisabetta’s totally spot-on—before we stopped speaking, Anya, Mari, and I had looked at booking some of the tours of the Amalfi Coast, but they’d all been too long or too stiff or not as centered around local cuisine the way we were hoping. “But why not? It’s such a good idea. I loved your recommendations.”
“We’ve thought about it, but it’s a lot of work,” Nico tells me. “Logistics, planning, permits, not to mention reaching out to other businesses and organizing large groups of people. We just don’t have the capacity right now.”
I deflate. He’s right, I realize. But then…
“Well, let me know when you do. I’ll be first in line.” Lisabetta peppers us both with kisses as she says her goodbyes. I watch her walk away, an idea percolating.
CHAPTER 28
The wheels in my headare spinning long before a guest walks up in the early afternoon to ask, “Do you happen to know a good place for dinner? We’re taking the bus down to explore Positano and Amalfi.”
“Of course, sir. But may I recommend getting off in Praiano instead? It’s between Positano and Amalfi, less touristy, and it has some beautiful beaches.” Nico takes out a three-fold map from behind the counter, using his Sharpie to highlight the route. “Now right here”—Nico pinpoints a location with a star—“you will want to look for a home with orange shutters and an Italian flag hanging outside. This is the kitchen of one of my grandmother’s friends, Nonna Sofia. She only has three small tables inside and the menu changes daily, depending on what she wants to eat, but it will be the best meal you have this entire trip. Every morning she walks the three hundred steps down to the beach to collect salt water to cook her homemade pasta in.”
“For real?” the man asks.
“Yes,” Nico says, and leans close, conspiratorial. “Youwon’t find this restaurant on Yelp or Tripadvisor. We keep it a closely guarded secret.”
The tourist glances toward his wife and two children. “This sounds like exactly what we’re looking for.”
“Perfecto,” Nico says. “Please tell Nonna Sofia I say hello.”
I watch all of this unfold as I surf the internet on the B and B’s desktop computer. I’ve been crunching some numbers. Loosely sketching out an idea.
“Nico, hear me out for a second,” I say when the man and his family walk away.
“What is it?” Nico’s distracted as he makes notes in his agenda.
“So your mom’s friend at the farmer’s market? Lisabetta? She’s not wrong. We could totally put something together.” I position myself in front of Nico so he is forced to look me in the eye.
He closes his agenda, which he uses for excursion bookings, listening.
“A moped ride food tour up and down the coast, with stops at hole-in-the-wall places that only a local would know.” I stand, waiting for Nico’s verdict.
“It’s a really cool idea, but I’m swamped, Soraya,” Nico says. “And don’t forget, you’re about to leave.”
I don’t know why, but his words sting. Of course I know I’m leaving, but I’m not ready to face that reality yet. “That’s true, but I could help get it all set up for you. Do a couple of tours together before I go. Don’t forget,I’m the girl who planned this whole European trip and figured out the funding to make it happen.” I take out a small calculator from one of the desk drawers and start to tabulate. I flash him the number on the screen. “I mean, this is only a loose estimate, but this would be the revenue for one tour. I bet you would get tips, too. Run the tour in the summer, on dates of your choosing, and that would solve your problem of never having any money to travel. If you decided that was something you wanted to do after all.”
Nico looks thoughtful.
“Please,” I say. Stubborn Soraya, at it again, but for a good cause this time. A better one. “Let me help you. As thanks, for all you’ve done for me.”
Nico steps over to look at the website I’ve pulled up. “We could drive south,” he mutters, “hit up some of the smaller towns that most tourists miss.”
“Yes! The Underground Food and Moped Tour!” I use my hands to highlight our invisible banner in the sky.
“I know a really good lunch café in Praiano, too. Right on the water. Makes the restaurants in Amalfi pale in comparison.” He’s starting to get excited.
“That’s what I’m talking about!”
Nico throws his hands up in resignation. “Fine! If you help me, I’ll try it. No promises, but I’ll try it. Once.”
“I’ll take it!” I fling my arms around Nico, burying my face in his chest. Through the thin shirt, his heart beats slow and steady. His arms wrap around me too, warmand tight, as he buries his nose in my neck. I shiver—then pull back in a panic. If we’re going to get this off the ground before either my time in Amalfi is up or I’m banished back to the States, I have to get to work. Like yesterday.
CHAPTER 29
I spot Nico talking toAnya and Mari out on the patio after they get home from whatever amazing activity they were doing without me. I stay hidden behind a large fern, feeling a little like a creeper.
