The balcony was still warm underfoot from the day's heat. The view was, Luisa had to admit, stunning, the golden sunset reflected off the endless expanse of sea.
Bel put the ice bucket down on the small table on the balcony, kicked off her sandals and sat down, tucking one bare leg under her. She took out the bottle and twisted the cork free.
"Rose ok?" she asked as she poured.
Luisa took the glass and couldn't help but laugh. Bel had somehow contrived to be given two glasses that were each large enough to hold half the bottle. "I guess I did say one drink."
Bel smiled. "To old habits," she said as she clinked their glasses together and settled back in her chair.
Luisa took a slow sip, letting the wine settle on her tongue. It was a nice wine, she had to admit, and knowing Bel absolutely not cheap. She took another sip and then they sat there quietly, their chairs at an angle to each other, taking in the view and unwinding from their days.
It was a while until they spoke, and Luisa appreciated Bel for that. It was the nice thing about whatever they were: there were no ulterior motives, none of the fake emotive nonsense that came when you dated someone and they felt like they had to get angry about something on your behalf, even though you knew that deep down they didn't really care.
Luisa could tell that Bel knew she'd been having a bad day, but Bel also knew, she always knew, not to ask about it. She wasn't there to be an agony aunt, and nor was Luisa there to be that for Bel either. In many ways it was what they gave each other, another person who they could switch off from the real world with and pretend for a few hours it didn't exist. The day they started to move beyond that was the day that whatever they had would be finished.
As the sky got dark and the wine slipped down, the first stars winking into view, they started talking. About the shoot, about mutual friends, about Bel's next booking the following week in Morocco where she could visit a cousin, about whether Luisa should try her hair a little shorter.
They didn't talk about Amy, not once. And Bel didn't talk about this woman Clem, apparently not her girlfriend but someone she was close enough to that she got a distant look in her eyes when she’d mentioned her that one time. Luisa didn’t want to know either, that wasn’t what they did.
For the first time that day Luisa felt herself really relax and let go, helped no doubt by the wine, but also helped by having Bel there with her. It was so easy. Bel didn't ask questions that complicated things, or questions that needed long answers or explanations, and nor did Luisa. They kept it simple.
The glasses emptied too fast, and then Bel was rummaging around in the minibar and made them something not particularly pleasant involving whisky, rum and an Italian mixer. Not good but it helped to take the edge off the day even more.
When they'd finished those, Bel put her glass down then stood, stretching as she leaned on the balcony rail.
She looked down at Luisa for a moment that stretched into more, then held out a hand.
"Come to bed," she said simply.
Luisa's hand tightened around her glass. She should say no. She knew that. But Bel was still stood there, hand out, waiting expectantly, and Luisa couldn't find the words, couldn't quite get the wordnoto come out. She’d never said it to Bel before and it didn’t come then.
Instead she reached out and Bel pulled her up gently, stepping closer, their faces just inches apart.
When Bel leaned in Luisa knew she should have pulled away, give herself the evening to think, but she didn't. She didn't stop her when their lips met, a slow, deliberate, gentle kiss. And she didn't stop when Bel's hand ran through her hair, holding her close.
And then something inside Luisa snapped. All her worries, her concerns, her frustrations, they hit breaking point and she committed, hungrily searching out Bel's lips, desperately sliding her hands over Bel's body, pulling and squeezing and stroking, while Bel did the same to her.
As always, Bel was Luisa's kryptonite.
Amy
Amalfi
The taxi from Naples wound its way along the coast road, in and out, again and again, close enough to the edge on more than one occasion that Amy worried they were going to plunge in to the dark sea far below. Not for the first time in her life she thanked her lucky stars that she didn't get travel sick, but she still had to tell herself repeatedlythe driver must have driven this road a hundred times before at night so surely I’m going to be safe?
She had the window down, the warm night air blowing through her hair, the smell of the sea carried on the wind. She had a little knot of excitement in her stomach, thrilled to be doing what was probably the craziest thing she'd ever done, looking forward to the look on Luisa's face when she arrived. This was an adventure, and coming from the drizzly streets of London that morning it felt like she'd arrived on a different planet.
It was her first time in this part of Italy, and from what she could see as they sped along it was even more beautiful than she'd imagined, glimpses of old houses and stunning views in the moonlight before the taxi left them behind.
Amy sat forward as the hotel came into view, a sprawling collection of old buildings perched on the clifftop, exquisitely up lit. It looked expensive and classy.
As she got out of the taxi, paid the driver and headed towards reception she felt her stomach flutter, whether in nerves or excitement she didn't know. Probably a bit of both.
She wanted to surprise Luisa if she could, make this as romantic as possible. Naomi had been right, as she so often was: why waste the chance to see as much of Luisa as she could when she was so much closer than usual? Anything else, Sarah included, could wait.
At reception, she asked for Luisa's room and got a polite but firm response. "I’m afraid, madam, that hotel policy means we cannot tell you her room number," said in that wonderful Italian accent where the very worst message can still sound completely and utterly charming.
Amy hesitated, thinking on her feet. She could tell the truth, that she was Luisa's girlfriend here to surprise her, but her gut feel was that in a conservative country like Italy that might actually be counterproductive.. And then, she had an idea.
