Page 8 of The Fear of Falling
I tune him out—the guy has always been a nonstop talker—and look for Avery out of the corner of my eye. She’s at the front counter, deep in discussion with the woman behind the desk, and neither looks like they’re having a good time. In fact, with her furrowed brow and pursed lips, Avery looks like she might burst into tears again, which is a far cry from the woman full ofwonder I got to hold in my lap for a few minutes during the drive from the airport.
“Hey, hold on a sec, Ricky,” I say, interrupting him mid-sentence. Though he nods, he doesn’t stop talking, switching instead to talk to another guy in the lobby I don’t recognize. Rolling my eyes at his ridiculousness, I cross the lobby to the desk and try to catch the gist of the conversation. The hotel receptionist doesn’t have great English, and Avery clearly doesn’t speak a lick of Italian, and neither seems to be getting anywhere.
“But I booked this months ago!” Avery says, holding her phone toward the receptionist. “Here’s the confirmation number.”
“Sì,” the receptionist says.Giulia, according to her nametag. “You do not…” She waves her hand, searching for the word. “…say yes.”
“But Ididsay yes! I put down a deposit. I very much said yes.”
I step forward, and both women shift their attention to me so fully that I almost turn right back around to escape it. I’m blaming this uncharacteristic shyness on my lack of sleep and food that doesn’t come out of a plastic container. Shaking my head clear of whatever intimidation just hit me, I offer a smile, then turn to Giulia.
“Ciao, Giulia,” I say brightly, then ask her what the problem is in Italian. I can’t claim fluency, but I know enough to get through a conversation.
Giulia sags with relief, throwing a nervous glance to Avery. “She didn’t confirm her room and her deposit has been returned to her,” she says in Italian. “We are fully booked, and I don’t have anywhere to put her.”
I wince but quickly shift my expression back to calm and carefree. “Nothing?”
“No. With the wedding, all of the rooms are taken.”
“What’s she saying?” Avery asks, leaning so close that I catch a whiff of…something. Her hair, maybe? It’s an incredible smell. Sweet and subtle. Peaches, I think. I smelled it in the taxi too, and I had to roll down the window to get some fresh air before I did something impulsive. Though, it didn’t stop me from playing with her hair, something I inexplicably want to do again.
“You didn’t confirm the room,” I tell her, hating that I get to be the bearer of bad news when I’d rather be the dashing hero again. Now that she’s no longer tear-streaked and puffy—I suspect she spent a decent amount of time in the bathroom at the airport making herself look bright and chipper again—she’s prettier than I thought on the plane. I nearly gave Enzo a heart attack when I shouted at him to stop the taxi the moment I caught sight of Avery in the line of tourists, but I couldn’t help myself. Something about her…
Avery’s eyes go wide, filling with tears at the same time. “Oh no,” she whispers, looking down at her phone. “Is that a thing I was supposed to do? I thought for sure I did that!”
“If you booked it out far enough, it was probably a way to make sure you still wanted the room,” I say with a shrug. Suddenly I worry I’m the one who took her room, since mine was a last-minute booking. As guilt pools in my belly, I try to come up with some solutions before she freaks out. I’m good at solutions. That’s my whole job. “There are plenty of hotels in Florence, Avery. I’m sure you can…” My words trail off when I catch sight of Giulia’s wide eyes and slight shake of her head.
I should have guessed from the line of people waiting for a taxi that this is a popular week to visit Florence. If it had been earlier in the month, the city would have been quieter with a lot of the locals off celebrating Ferragosto, the height of summer, but that doesn’t help us now. “No open rooms?” I ask Giulia in Italian.
“Maybe on the outskirts of the city. But I do not recommend…”
“She’s not saying anything good, is she?” Avery asks, leaning in so now her arm is pressed to mine. Given the first impression I got of her, I wouldn’t have expected her to touch me, but this is the third time I’ve been in close contact with this woman and she is…compelling? That’s not the right word, andinterestingdoesn’t do her justice.Intoxicatingis too much.
Intriguing. Avery is intriguing, and she might be a great addition to this wedding week.
But if I’m going to spend more time with her and see whether she’s the woman who plans minute by minute or the one who climbs over a stranger to admire a cathedral, I can’t have her in some sketchy hotel on the other side of the city.
“Give her my room,” I tell Giulia, once again in Italian. Hopefully I can swing this in a way that doesn’t clue Avery in to what I’m doing. “Benson West.” Avery lifts an eyebrow when I say my name, but I ignore her, keeping my focus on Giulia as she looks up my reservation.
“You want to give up your room, signore?” she asks, clearly skeptical of my Italian abilities because she speaks so slowly that even Avery might catch a few words here and there. “But you are in the wedding party, no?”
“I can stay in someone else’s room with them. There will be a spot somewhere.” There had better be a spot. I don’t know much about Riccardo’s friends—we met through business avenues and haven’t spent much time together over the last several years outside phone calls and video chats—but I can make this work. “It’ll be fine.”
“Are you certain?” Giulia asks again.
“She needs it more than I do,” I say, gesturing to Avery with my head. I offer Giulia a broad smile that will hopefully help her believe that I fully mean what I’m telling her.
As a blush slides up her cheeks, Giulia makes a few clicks, her eyes darting from her computer to me multiple times. Maybe Ioverdid it with the smile. But hey, if it gets us what I need, then whatever. “Sì?” she asks once more, and when I nod, she slides a key across the counter to Avery.
Avery’s eyes go wide. “Wait, is that mine?”
“Turns out it was a glitch in the computer system,” I say, which is a total lie and I’m pretty sure Avery knows it. But she wraps her fingers around the key with a look that tells me I might be about to get a particularly nice thank you.
“Benson,” she whispers. “Whatever you did, thank you.”
“Computer glitch,” I say again.
She throws her arms around my shoulders, her whole body pressing into me as she hugs me tightly. Though I expected something like this, her enthusiasm still catches me off guard enough that I barely manage to return the gesture before she’s pulling away. “You are seriously my hero today. How can I repay you? Buy you dinner tonight?”
