Page 30 of Finding Love in the Clouds

Ambling about the small town, once more hand in hand, Sophie noted, “I’m starting to sense that lemons are important to this population. Everything seems to have a lemon design or decoration. From dishes and towels to clothes and jewelry—even those sandals back there were lemon yellow, with slices painted on the navy-blue straps.”

“If you have a lemon fetish, this would be the place to come,” Fernando chimed in, absentmindedly tracing circles on her knuckles.

Sophie burst out laughing. “Lemon fetish! I’m pretty sure that’s the wrong word for this particular topic.”

Fernando grinned sheepishly. “Perhaps it’s more of an intense appreciation. Or maybe a zest for lemons?”

She groaned playfully. “I think we’re venturing into punny territory now.”

“Just trying to keep it juicy,” he winked, earning another round of laughter.

“Let’s not quit our day jobs,” Sophie chuckled, trying to catch her breath.

“What are you talking about?” Fernando said, feigning offense, “We literally live off this stuff!”

“Um, sure,” she teased. “Maybe you should stick to being a crime aficionado.”

“Touché,” Fernando replied, laughing. “But hey, at least I’m not bitter!”

They were still chuckling and teasing each other as they made their way back to the port for their return trip. Standing by the railing, Fernando positioned himself behind Sophie, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace as they enjoyed the view of the shimmering Bay of Naples. The azure waters sparkled in the late afternoon sun, with the rugged coastline providing a stunning backdrop. In the distance, the imposing silhouette of Mount Vesuvius loomed against the clear sky, beginning to streak with hints of orange.

Sophie leaned into Fernando, feeling the warmth of his presence and the cool sea breeze playfully tousling her hair. Fernando leaned down and rested his cheek against Sophie’s, his whiskers softly tickling her skin. In that moment, surrounded by beauty and wrapped in Fernando’s embrace, she felt a profound sense of peace and connection. Despite the uncertainties that lay ahead, she knew one thing for certain—this was where she belonged. How to move forward when so much stood between them continued to elude her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Pulling into port, the hydrofoil tied off and shut down the engines. “Welcome to Naples, the vibrant heart of Southern Italy,” Alicia greeted them with a warm smile at the disembarking ramp. “We’ll be taking a brief evening tour of this historic city before retiring for the night.”

The group boarded their tour bus, which Alessandro had driven from Sorrento after dropping them off hours before, and Alicia began her commentary as they drove through the bustling streets of Naples. “Naples is known for its rich history, stunning architecture, and, of course, its mouthwatering cuisine,” she explained. “Keep your eyes peeled for some of the city’s most iconic landmarks. First up is Castel Nuovo, also known as the New Castle. This imposing medieval fortress, dating back to the 13th century, stands sentinel by the azure waters of the Mediterranean. Its robust towers and sturdy walls speak volumes of its military significance, having served as both a royal residence and a formidable defensive stronghold.”

“And there, to the right, you’ll catch a glimpse of the majestic Royal Palace of Naples. Built in the 17th century under Spanish rule, this extravagant palace is a testament to Bourbon opulence and power. Admire the palace’s imposing façade, taking note of the intricate Baroque architecture, characterized by ornate balconies, elaborate sculptures, majestic columns, rows of arched windows, and imposing entrances adorned with sculpted embellishments. The palace’s grandeur is further accentuated by its monumental size, spanning over 300 meters in length. That would be like turning your Empire State Building on its side. If you were to step inside, you would be transported back in time as you wander through the lavish interiors, including the grand Throne Room where monarchs once held court amidst gilded furnishings and sumptuous tapestries and the exquisite Royal Chapel, adorned with magnificent frescoes and intricate stuccoes, offering a glimpse into the spiritual life of the royal family.”

Sophie and Fernando marveled at the colorful buildings and lively atmosphere as they traversed the winding streets. “It’s like a live-action postcard full of history and culture,” Sophie remarked, her eyes scanning the surroundings, trying to take it all in.

Alicia nodded in agreement. “Indeed, Naples is a city with a story around every corner. From ancient ruins to Renaissance palaces, there’s something to discover at every turn. Prepare to be captivated by the majestic Teatro di San Carlo, Europe’s oldest continuously active opera house.” She pointed to the left side of the bus. “From the intricate detailing of its neoclassical facade to the towering columns that flank its entrance, every inch of the Teatro di San Carlo exudes elegance and sophistication. Inside, you would find gilded balconies and plush velvet seating, every detail speaking to the grandeur of the operatic experience. Fun fact: The famous Italian tenor Enrico Caruso made his debut at this very theater!” she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye. “And if you’re a fan of ‘The Godfather’ films, you might recognize the Teatro di San Carlo as a backdrop in ‘The Godfather Part III.’ It’s just one of the many ways Naples’ rich cultural heritage has left its mark on the silver screen.”

Their tour continued as they made their way to the hotel, with Alicia pointing out other notable sights, such as Piazza del Plebiscito and the iconic Spaccanapoli street. “Naples isn’t just famous for its stunning architecture and historic landmarks; it’s also the birthplace of pizza. This city of nearly a million people has about 8,200 pizzerias. Fathers here often hope their sons will become either soccer players for SSC Napoli or pizza chefs, known as ‘pizzaioli’ or ‘pizzaiuoli’ in the local dialect. The art of pizza-making in Naples is so cherished that UNESCO has recognized it as an intangible cultural heritage.”

“The classic Neapolitan pizza,” Alicia continued, “is soft and chewy with a moist, almost soupy top and a pillowy crust called ‘cornicione.’ It’s cooked in about 90 seconds at extremely high temperatures, making it thinner than the plate it’s served on.”

As they arrived at the Grand Hotel Vesuvio, Alicia bid the group goodnight, reminding them of their early start the next day.

“I’m hungry and will never be able to sleep with a growling stomach. Care to join me for a taste of authentic Neapolitan pizza?” he asked hopefully, not ready for the day to end.

“Sure, that sounds good. To be honest, I have been craving pizza all day,” Sophie admitted with a shy smile.

They walked to a nearby pizzeria recommended by Alicia, the aroma of baking dough and melting cheese guiding their steps. The small restaurant was cozy, with checkered tablecloths and framed photos of Naples on the walls. They found a corner table, the perfect spot to unwind.

“This place looks promising,” Fernando said, glancingaround.

They ordered a classic Margherita pizza, and soon, a piping hot pie arrived at their table, the scent of fresh basil and tomatoes making their mouths water.

“Let’s see if it lives up to all the hype,” Fernando said, lifting a slice from the plate and folding it expertly before taking a large bite.

Sophie tried to mimic his technique, but the sauce dribbled down her chin. She laughed, dabbing at it with a napkin. “Clearly, I need more practice.”

Fernando chuckled, reaching across the table. “Here, let me help. You missed a spot.” He gently wiped the sauce from the bottom edge of her jaw with a napkin, his thumb brushing her lower lip. The touch lingered for a moment, sending tingles through Sophie.

“Thank you,” she said softly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

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