“Thatisvery like Bes.”
Unable to help myself, I draw parallels between this interaction and the one with Ailsa in Alexandria. And, as with Ailsa, I can’t help thinking Gino is more than he appears.
I choose, however, to keep that to myself for the time being, even as the gears in my mind continue to turn.
When Gino finally releases Bes, his attention falls to Cec. His dark eyes instantly fill with rage, his smile dropping into a thin, angry line.
“Di nuovo tu,” he sneers.
“Lovely to see you as well, Gino.” Cec nods, leaning slightly on his cane. “How long has it been?”
Gino places his forearm horizontally along the stomach while his thumb and first three fingers touch each other and point downwards, his pinky finger outstretched and quivering. “Long enough for me to maledire il tuo nome .”
“Glad to see nothing’s changed,” Cec mutters to me. “Although, if he hadn’t caught us in the first place, he wouldn’t feel the urge to curse my name every time he sees me.”
Caught us?I’m about to ask him to elaborate, when Gino’s gaze lands on me. His anger dissipates.
“E chi è questa bellezza?” he purrs.
Since my Italian is more than a little rusty, all I got from that wasbeautiful woman, in the form of a question.
“Amelia Hawkins.” I hold out my hand for him to shake. “Buona sera, signore.”
He grins at me. “Buona sera!”
Taking my outstretched hand, he turns and kisses the top of it. His moustache hairs scratch against my skin. I don’t care for it.
“That’s… different.” I wipe the back of my hand on my dress. At least he didn’t take my face in his hands and kiss both cheeks.
Gino looks to Bes. “Non é necessario di indossarla qui. È sicuro.”
Bes nods, then regards me. “He says you can take off the scarf, Miss Hawkins.” He gestures to the entire restaurant. “You’re safe here.”
I hesitate. What will these southern Italians think of an American with blonde hair and blue eyes who doesn’t speak their language? I have a similar olive skin tone in the summer, but I don’t look like them. Will they think I’m a Nazi? Some other foreigner who means them harm or they can snitch on?
No, I’m not taking it off.I don’t care what Gino says; I’m not comfortable having so many eyes on me, not when we’re trying to keep a low profile.
“I’ll keep it on, thank you.”
Bes nods, but the old man bellows out a laugh. “Come sei bella, mia cara! You do not need to hide yourself.”
I grit my teeth.Call me beautiful one more time, signore…
“It’s merely a precaution,” Bes explains on my behalf. “The Blackshirts were out in fine form today, and we didn’t want to draw unwanted attention.”
“Si, I can see why, but this is normal, bambino. Their presence…” He searches for the right word. “Mi sta soffocando.”
Bes shakes his head. “I didn’t realize it was so awful here.”
“You’ve been gone long. But now you are back!”
Bes frowns. “Not to stay.”
“No, no, of course, not to stay.” Gino busies his hands with his apron ties. “But long enough for a slice, eh? I have fresh.”
“What kind?” Cec wonders. “You know I hate olives.”
I gawk at him. “An Italian who hates olives? Now I’ve seen everything.”
