Page 136 of Casanova LLC

“I’m working on it.”

“Dimmi.”

“I’ll do tours. And we can rent. The guest apartment and also the whole nobile. Market it as a ‘spend the night in the bed of Casanova’ experience.”

“Okay. Va bene. This is good.” Then he said, “I can sell the boat,” and a lightning bolt went through my chest.

“Absolutely not. Never.”

“But why? Are we not in this together?”

“No, this is my doing. My responsibility. I’d sell you before I’d let you sell that boat.”

“Okay, so. We move on. Together.” He raised his glass. We clinked and sipped.

“Without me?”

We turned. We looked. We choked on our wine.

I leapt up from the table, wiping my sleeve across my face, tripping over my chair, turning again to see what could only be a ghost standing in the courtyard.

Standing with a hand over a laughing mouth.

And luggage.

And a painting-sized cardboard box.

Jacopo beat me to it, the speaking. “Bella!”

“Claire!” My voice sounded like an over-tightened guitar string.

She came toward us, hand pointing behind her. “Sorry to startle you, the gate was open?—”

“No, no! Not startle, just surprise. A wonderful surprise.” I felt him glance at me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I had to ask. Because I couldn’t trust it. Couldn’t trust that this was what I hoped it was.

She reached into her pocket, held up the forcola. “I’m looking for my gondoliere. Have you seen him?”

And then she smiled. A beautiful, free, uncomplicated one.

I matched it. Exceeded it.

Jacopo clasped his hands in front of his chest and shook them as if they were nodding. “I will, uh, how you say, skeedoodle.”

“No, don’t leave.” Her smile went to him. “I have an idea about ‘moving on’ and I want you to hear it, too.”

Claire

The table only had two chairs, because when did these Casanovas ever have need of more? So they gestured for me to take Alessandro’s seat and he plopped himself down on the edge of the fountain, his knees practically up to his shoulders. He leaned forward, elbows atop them, getting closer to me, making sure I was real, that I was truly sitting here, in front of him. Our eyes caught and the feeling in his had been playing hide-and-seek since the day I first met him. The day of my rehearsal dinner. It was potent, bold, hungry, yearning. And it was all for me.

I wanted to engulf him. I wanted to kiss him so badly.

So I did.

Because I could.

And he met me fully. All the kissing we had done during my stay couldn’t hold a candle to the electricity that passed between us now. I could tell he wasn’t ready to stop, but I did, just long enough to say to Jacopo, “Sorry.”

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