The Boselli Bride

Later, refreshed and looking forward to their evening, the two girls left the hotel and took a taxi to the centre of town.

‘With your experience and expertise, you ought to know all the best places to eat,’ Coral said as they strolled along the busy streets.

‘I still have a lot to learn,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve only been sent here once before, but there’ll certainly be plenty of choice.’ They went on, passing one restaurant after another, the early evening atmosphere muted and relaxed, and presently they stopped for a moment outside a particularly well-lit place to examine the menu. ‘This looks good,’ she said. ‘Shall we try it?’

They took their seats at a table outside under the sun awning and Coral sighed. ‘Why does the thought of food always fill me with such delight?’ she asked, glancing across at Emily. ‘At this moment in time, I do not wish to be anywhere else, with anyone else,’ she added meaningfully.

Emily smiled at the words, knowing that Coral had always loved food. But since the split with her boyfriend, Steve, a month ago, she had definitely started to look thinner—and it didn’t suit her. Coral’s normal appetite was legendary, and it went with her popularity and usually bright outlook on life.

‘The only thing to complete this idyllic picture,’ Coral said as she examined the menu, ‘is for a drop-dead gorgeous Italian male to present himself at my feet and whisk me off to some exotic rendezvous. But not until I’ve had my meal,’ she added.

Emily felt pleased that a change of scene seemed to be having a positive effect on Coral’s frame of mind. Her recent depression seemed to be less in evidence, anyway—at least for the moment. Coral and Steve had been an item for four years—with neither, apparently, wanting to commit themselves, when one day, out of the blue, he’d announced that enough was enough and he wanted to call it a day. To describe it as an emotional bombshell was an understatement and Emily had felt it too-the girls shared their lives in a flat together. It was horrible to see the normally happy-go-lucky Coral so downcast.

As she ran her finger along the huge menu, Emily frowned slightly. It was all very well thinking about other people’s affairs and relationships…but what about her own love life? She had to admit that it didn’t stand much scrutiny at the moment—and who could blame her for that? Her confidence in human relationships having a hope of surviving in the long-term had been shattered when Marcus, her last boyfriend, had been targeted by her best friend from university, who had made no secret of the fact that she’d always fancied Marcus. But it had never bothered Emily, who’d trusted him so naively…so, when he’d unbelievably succumbed to the determined charms of the other woman, Emily had suffered a bombshell all of her own. Then, it had been Coral’s job to pick up the shattered pieces of her ego and her bruised heart. Emily sighed briefly as her thoughts ran on. The event was a whole year ago and, although she barely thought about him now, she’d been taught a hard lesson. Beware of those you thought you could trust. Especially handsome men, who were naturally attractive to the opposite sex.

Presently, they gave the young Italian waitress their order, and within a couple of minutes two large glasses of white wine arrived. Coral picked up hers straight away, beaming across at Emily.

‘Cheers,’ she said, taking a generous gulp, and Emily smiled back, picking up her own drink. It was good to have her friend’s company on this trip, she thought. Even if she was beginning to get used to finding her own way around new places and fending for herself.

Coral leaned back in her chair and looked around. ‘There seems so much talent everywhere,’ she said, almost ruefully. ‘I mean, just look at those two guys over there, Ellie—gorgeous or what?’ She paused. ‘Hey, they’re looking at us…Do you think we might get lucky later on…?’

‘Well, you might,’ Emily said cheerfully, ‘but count me out. I’ve got my busiest day tomorrow, and after we’ve eaten it’ll be back to bed for me.’

‘Spoilsport,’ Coral said. ‘Anyway, I was only joking.’ But she continued staring across at the men, returning their rather suggestive smiles.

Emily said mildly, ‘Don’t encourage them, Coral. It’ll really complicate matters if they think we’re giving them the come-on.’

Soon their meal was put in front of them and for the next ten minutes Coral didn’t say another word as she began rapidly consuming everything on her plate.

‘This veal is so tender,’ Emily said appreciatively, ‘and I wish I knew what the dressing on the salad is. It’s fantastic.’

‘And I love, love, love these chips!’ Coral said theatrically. ‘I was so afraid we were only going to get pasta on this holiday.’

The portions were generous, so the girls decided that fruit and coffee would be all they’d need to complete the meal. But Coral insisted on ordering more wine, waving away Emily’s protest.

‘Don’t be a party-pooper, Ellie,’ she said beseechingly. ‘We’re on holiday, remember.’

‘You are—I’m not,’ Emily replied, but she drank the wine anyway. She certainly didn’t want to be accused of being a drag. Anyway, Coral was having such a good time it was hard not to be affected by the girl’s exuberance.

As they sat sipping their wine, the men whom Coral had been smiling at came over and, without asking, pulled out two chairs so that they could sit down.

‘Is OK,’ one of them said, ‘to sit?’ and, although Emily merely shrugged pleasantly, Coral was thrilled.

‘Of course it’s OK,’ she said brightly, darting a quick glance at Emily.

Immediately, one of the men beckoned a waiter and insisted that the girls should have more wine. They were young—probably barely twenty years old, Emily thought—good-looking and well turned-out in their casual clothes, and it was obvious that they’d been encouraged by Coral’s overtly friendly eye signals.

It didn’t take long for the men to find out that the girls were English and on holiday and, in their halting attempts to make themselves understood, they became more and more animated, throwing their heads back and roaring with laughter at the mistakes they were making. But when one of them leaned across and took hold of Emily’s hand, looking into her eyes and telling her how beautiful she was, the girl had had enough. While she was quite ready to go along with this—up to a point, for Coral’s sake—it was becoming clear that this was going to lead to a situation she definitely did not want. She took her hand away, glancing at her watch.

‘Well—great to have met you,’ she said, ‘but we have to go now.’

‘Oh—no—no,’ her admirer said. ‘Is too early…’

Emily looked helplessly at Coral, hoping for some support, but her friend refused to meet her gaze, clearly enjoying the situation, and for a few moments Emily felt at a loss. The men were only being friendly and she had no sense of being threatened. Yet this was the very thing she had wanted to avoid. How was she going to get out of it without appearing to snub these local lads?

And then her good fairy alighted on her shoulder, literally, as the warm hand of the handsome Italian she’d met earlier in the day rested on her bare arm for a second. He looked down into her rather startled gaze and smiled the smile that set her heart racing.

‘We meet again,’ he said calmly. ‘I was sitting inside in the bar having a drink and saw you come in.’ He paused. ‘Is—is everything all right?’ The words were uttered in perfect English, which had the effect of throwing Emily off balance for a moment. What she’d thought of earlier as his halting ability with the language was obviously a ploy he used in order to avoid having to make tiresome conversation with customers! But she admitted to feeling relieved that he’d turned up then—because now the situation was different—and the younger men saw it at once, standing up almost deferentially.

‘ ‘Giorno, Giovanni,’ the men said, almost in unison. He was obviously well known, Emily thought—and why not? He ran a local shop, and these were local youths. She smiled up at him.

‘Oh, hello again,’ she said. ‘We…were just explaining to these…guys…that we are actually just leaving now…’

‘Giovanni’ spoke in rapid Italian to the men, who answered back in the same way, all three laughing loudly and clearly enjoying a joke—probably at her and Coral’s expense, Emily thought—and then they were gone, smiling back as they went, leaving Giovanni standing there alone. He looked down at the girls, treating Coral to one of his disarming grins before introducing himself, holding out his hand to each of them in turn.

‘My name is Giovanni,’ he said, ‘but my friends call me Joe…Gio.’ He paused, his eyes flickering over Emily’s upturned face.

Quickly, she said, ‘Oh—I’m Emily, and this is Coral. We’re only here for a few days—on a sort of holiday…’ she went on rather stumblingly, aware that her friend was staring at her open-mouthed. Not just because it was obvious that Giovanni was somehow known to Emily, but also because he was looking so stunningly handsome she knew that the girl’s curiosity would be killing her. Emily knew she had some explaining to do!

‘Um…do sit down…Giovanni…’ she said hesitantly, and immediately he pulled out a chair. She looked across at Coral. ‘I bought a lovely present for my father at Giovanni’s shop this afternoon,’ she began, ‘and that’s when I met…Giovanni…Gio…’

Although Coral might have been disappointed at the hasty exit the younger men had just made, she was so entranced at the most recent arrival she could hardly speak! He was wearing well-cut jeans and a loose, immaculate white cotton shirt open at the neck, exhibiting a teasing expanse of muscular brown chest. His hair was stylishly untidy, one or two dark fronds falling over his broad forehead. And his bewitching eyes were fringed by long, curling lashes. But when he leaned across and took Coral’s hand in his briefly, saying, ‘I am so delighted to meet you, Coral,’ Emily thought her friend was going to faint!

‘Oh…’ Coral said at last. ‘Pleased to meet you, Gio.’ She darted a quick glance at Emily, as if to say-Well, you might have said something—before giving the man her close attention. And his perfect English, with only the occasional mouth-watering Italian accent, made conversation easy—and wonderfully entertaining, as he turned on the full power of his Latin charm. He beckoned to the drinks waiter and turned to Emily.

‘May we celebrate our acquaintance?’ he asked. ‘What would you like to drink—and you, Coral…? What may I order for you?’

‘I’d like another coffee, please,’ Emily said firmly. She’d already had several generous glasses of wine. Any more would be too many, she thought. But Coral had no such problem, and soon she was sipping at yet another large glass of the expensive bubbles as she regaled Giovanni with her life story, allowing Emily to add one or two comments about herself while he listened intently.

Presently, Emily decided that for her the evening was over. ‘I want to go back to the hotel now, Coral,’ she said. ‘It’s late.’

‘Where are you staying?’ Giovanni asked casually, and when they told him he said, ‘I can take you, if you like. My car is just a few minutes away.’

‘Oh, lovely!’ Coral said at once, but Emily interrupted firmly.

‘Thank you, but we can easily get a taxi. We wouldn’t want to bother you.’ She stood up and shot a warning glance at Coral, who stood up as well. Then she held out her hand. ‘It’s been very…pleasant…to meet you…Gio,’ she said. ‘And thanks for the coffee.’

He smiled at her, tilting his head briefly to one side. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. He hesitated. ‘By the way, if you have trouble locating the places you need to visit tomorrow, I’ll be at the shop, so you know where to find me. I can always point you in the right direction.’

‘Oh…thank you, but I’m sure I’ll manage,’ Emily said.

‘Why didn’t you accept his offer of a lift?’ Coral demanded as they were driven swiftly back to the hotel in a taxi.

‘Because we don’t know him, Coral!’

‘He wasn’t exactly a stranger…’

‘As good as,’ Emily replied.