Chapter 3

Citta del Salvatore wasn't a big city. It was more of a fishing town situated between Florence and Pisa. And all the traffic between the two went through here. 

Nonno

(Grandpa) used to own a fishing shack in his youth, somewhere along the Flux. And Nonna used to tell the tale of how he fished her out of the river one early summer and they fell madly in love. But she stopped talking about him after she found out about his affair with the baker's wife. 

Are all men unfaithful? I wondered as I locked gazes with Cosimo. He sat in front of me flashing his signature arrogant smirk. With no shame whatsoever, he eyeballed me the whole way to Porto Luce, while keeping his left arm extended on ‘Miss Top Model in Florence's’ shoulders. 

She was so invested in playing SweetSmash; she didn't even flinch when Cosimo adjusted his pants and re-positioned his penis. I quickly glanced away,

but I could not unsee his swollen groin area. 

Besides this, that stupid sound the icons made every time they matched really pricked my ears, irritating my brain cells to the point where my right eye started twitching. 

Happy thoughts, Tami . . . think of puppies or something. I tried to restrain myself, but after a whole bunch of chi-chinks, I couldn't keep my mouth shut. 

"So . . . What did you say your name was?" I asked the woman, leaning a bit closer to her. 

"I didn't." she answered without taking her eyes off that damn game. 

“I'm Tamira Banks. Nice to meet you." 

Now she picked up her heavy lashes from the screen and stared at the hand I reached out, unimpressed. 

"Irina Vlad . . . Pleasure." She frowned as she shook my fingers.

For God's sake, I'm not carrying the plague. Shake my effing hand the proper way! 

I screamed in my head, but I still nodded, pretending the pleasure was all mine. 

"Where are you from, Irina?" I continued with my distraction, keeping a calm attitude. 

"I'm Miss Vlad to you," she replied ice-cold, raising her nose sky high. "I come from Transylvania." 

Hah, I was right. She is Romanian. A content smile sat on my face.

Irina leaned back and crossed her legs. 

"Why are you asking questions? Are you hitting on me?" She laughed.

My jaw dropped. It was best to retract my attention from her, for she seemed just as perverted as her precious boyfriend. So I stared out of the window and focused on nature instead. 

The grass-fields along the River Flux seemed so peaceful. Undisturbed, even. The stone pine trees along the narrow street shielded the car from the burning sun like giant umbrellas. And the sidewalks were full of their fallen cones—beautiful and round. 

Oh, how I'd like to stroll among them, and pick out the best ones. My thoughts wandered around, but then I remembered that Nonna forbade bringing any more home. I still kept a few

outside on the balcony, hidden under the bench. Hope she doesn’t throw them out while I'm away. 

And just like that, a spicy comeback hit me. I narrowed my eyes and gathered my courage to drop the bomb. 

"Are you living at the Palazzo as well?" I asked, pulling my lips into a devilish smile. Seeing her elongated expression, I continued, "Or is it only my privilege?" 

Cosimo had sat in silence up until this point, but now he let out a wholehearted laugh. And as his smile grew wider, his aligned teeth brightened his whole face. 

"As much as I enjoy seeing you two taking jabs at one another, I have to let you know the ride is over," he said in an exquisite tone and opened the door on his side. 

I came to my senses fairly late. The driver had already parked when I broke out of my wolf-stare with Irina. He opened the door for her, while I got out on Cosimo's side, just to add more fuel to the fire. Something about that woman made me enjoy being mean and vindictive. 

"Step on your neck . . ." I remembered her words. We'll see about that. 

"Thank you, Signore di Maggio," I said, tapping into my sweetest and friendliest self. Then I turned around and was immediately left awe-struck by the view. 

Porto Santa Luce shone with such brilliance. The water here was so wide-spread it looked like a bay opening to the sea. And believe it or not, it was crystal clear. Hundreds of riverboats docked in a straight line on both sides and dozens of empty slots attested we weren't the only ones choosing this mode of transport. 

I walked to the waist-high rails and took a couple of deep breaths, soaking in the sun's warm caress. Wind flowed through my tangled hair as I looked around with a joyous smile on my face. It's been a while since I last visited this place. 

Cosimo stepped next to me. 

"Do you like it here?" he asked.

I gave him an affirmative nod.

"Those arched brick bridges still standing tall and this colorful scenery amazes me," I replied, pointing to the small flowers planted all around the port. 

Irina's staggering footsteps yanked me out of the eternally picturesque view. 

"I have lingerie try-on at three o'clock," she said.

Her irritating voice prompted us to get going. I smiled at her man, hoping to annoy her further, but she was already heading towards the entrance. As a response to my deed, Cosimo offered me his left arm. And I took it without a second thought. 

A set of reconstructed stairs led down to the lower banks. On my right, a three-meter high stone wall towered above our heads, with built-in benches and old-fashioned light-stands in between. On my left, short columns made of red and brown bricks were bound one after another, with two sets of thick iron chains between each. 

I expected Irina to throw a fit when she saw me clutching Cosimo’s arm, but she was too preoccupied with a phone call. 

We stopped next to a classic motor yacht, built in the sixties, renovated to a very high standard. The base and roof of the boat were white and the exterior cabin walls were varnished teak with original chrome fittings. The inside was mainly gray leather furnishings and blue carpet; all of which made it very comfortable and relaxing on the eyes. There was even a saloon area with a fitted bar in the center. 

"Start the engine, Giorgio," Cosimo gave the order to his driver, who turned out to be his skipper as well. He hopped in first and helped Irina regain her balance. 

Who knew? Looks like high heels on a wobbling surface is not a good idea.

I giggled while watching her struggle and almost fall.