Page 59 of His Two Hidden Masks

Dylan stopped and turned to face my room. I wondered if he was thinking of me, too. Was he searching the dark, looking for my bedroom light?

He took a step toward our palazzo and stopped. My heart surged with desire. I was so tired, but a part of me wanted him to keep walking toward me. He turned back to toward the hotel.

I loved knowing that soon he would be upstairs in the Lover’s Suite, alone in bed, beneath the covers. I wondered if the room still smelled of me.

I stood at my window for a moment longer before crawling into bed. I closed my eyes and hoped I would dream of this man who I knew would change my life.

11

Iawoke to sunlight, hitting my face from a crack in my heavy curtains. Still bone-tired, my brain replayed the insanity of the night. Memories of total bliss, embarrassment, and relief flooded my mind.

My predictable life was officially off-book, and for once, the idea that everything was changing did not send me spiraling.

I stretched and looked at the fading dancing cherubs on my fresco overhead. Their chubby and joyous faces no longer made me jealous. That morning, I smiled with them.

The fog of shame and depression that clouded my world for six months was less dense. Looking at that bright slice of winter sunlight cut across my bed, I knew it was a beautiful and crisp blue-sky day.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the last moments of warmth beneath my covers. It had been so long since I had felt this light and unburdened.

I closed my eyes, and in a flash, a childhood memory bubbled up in my mind. Giggling and laughing, I was five years old and running down the carpeted hall on the second floor of our palazzo.

Sara called my name from the foyer. “Ready or not, here I come!” Her voice was full of smiles. We were playing hide-and-seek, I remembered. I loved opening her bedroom door and sneaking into her wardrobe. It was the best hiding place in the house.

I loved our games. I’d loved her. It had been years since I had thought about hiding in Sara’s room. I opened my eyes, wondering what it would be like to open that wardrobe again. Would it help me remember my sister more clearly? I hated how she faded a little more every year.

I’d noticed something about memory, something about my grief. I didn’t think of my sister much during the dark days after my broken engagement. I thought of her most when my heart was full, when something wonderful happened that I wished I could share with her.

She would have loved meeting Dylan, and even more, she would have loved hearing all about my chocolates, my Bella Baci. She would also nudge me before school and say, “Rise and shine, Sunshine.”

“Rise and shine,” I said softly, noting this was the first morning I had climbed out of bed smiling in a very long while.

I stepped onto the cold marble floor of my room, dreaming of the sweet smell of melting chocolate and the soft kisses of Dylan Street. I stretched my arms in the air, imagining the wooden spoon in my hand while I dissolved cane sugar into heavy cream.

I thought about the way my fingers tingled as they ran across the muscular dips in Dylan’s abs. I loved the moment the sugar heated enough to melt like the slow burn of desire, the release as it dissolved into the milk.

Making love and making the most gorgeous and perfect caramel were pure bliss. I giggled, realizing that cooking now reminded me of sex. Did everything remind me of the “down and dirty?”

I slipped on yoga pants, a t-shirt, and hoodie for the walk to Andiamo. My chef’s coat was waiting for me at the restaurant. The morning was cold, but it was always hot in the kitchen, and I loved it.

Today, I didn’t feel compelled to be anyone, but me. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, preparing to wind it into a bun before I started work. I did a final check in the mirror.

My face was washed clean of my dramatic makeup from the night before. I added a thin layer of gloss and smacked my lips.

It occurred to me that sometimes change came on hard and fast. I needed to grab ahold of my dream and hold on tight. I was done hiding. I did not want to miss another thing.

The Street acquisition was out of my hands. If my father refused to give me a seat at his table, so be it. It was time I set up a table of my own. Bella Baci was my dream, and if my family wouldn’t fund me, I would pivot for this Carnival season and make a plan to fund my future. I would find another way.

“Who are you?” I said, glancing at my reflection, seeing a spark of determination in my eyes. “Whoever you are, I like you,” I said out loud. “I like you and you’ve got this.”

Dylan told me I was more powerful than I knew. Wasn’t it time I believed him? Things were moving forward in a way that was unexpected, but it didn’t mean it was wrong. Since the moment I met Dylan in the moonlight, life continued to offer me surprises.

Once upon a time, I was a good Venetian daughter, engaged to a supposedly good Venetian man, and now I wasn’t. What else was in store for me if I continued to be open the infinite possibilities of the universe?

Auntie Aurora followed her cards. I followed the approval of my family, and here I was, for the first time, forging a different path for myself.

What a surprise. What a gift. What an opportunity. Who knew optimism could taste as sweet as sex, or one of my chocolate caramel candies.

Andiamo opened onlyfor dinner in the dining room and outdoor patio. The staff managed room service and lunch using the hotel kitchen. As I walked across the campo, the early morning cold bit through my layers.

---