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“From the few clothes you left behind.” I offered her an explanation, hoping she’d drop it.
“You trained your dog to find me?”
“No, Salvatrice. Maximus knows your smell because I still have them and keep them close to my clothes.” The black dress she wore on our one-year anniversary was hung next to my favorite suits, all her lingerie was folded and placed very carefully in a drawer, and her silk robe and matching pajamas… those were displayed on a chair next to my bedroom door. It was the first thing I touched when I’d go into my bedroom before seeing her beautiful face looking back at me from the portrait.
“That’s, umm, surprising.”
She had no idea.
“It shouldn’t be. Come on, let’s go have some lunch. I skipped breakfast today.”
“Yeah.” She exhaled, equally nervous. “Me too.”
“Romina.”
“Yes, Roman?” she answered, looking back over her shoulder.
“Can you please take Maximus and come here so we can go and have lunch?”
She did just that without questioning anything and seeing how well-behaved she was brought a smile to my face. Salvatrice was guilty of many things in my eyes, but she did raise my daughter right.
We all descended to the lower deck at the back of the yacht that was shaded and set up for our lunch date. The table had a white cloth over it and a bouquet of sunflowers was arranged in the middle, and the chairs were covered in thick cushions to make them more comfortable. I took the cushion for the extra seat and put it on Romina’s chair, to make sure she could reach the table, and then helped her climb in before pulling the chair for Salva. Max sat beside Romina and put his head on his paws, stretching lazily.
Shortly after all of us were seated, a middle-aged woman wearing an immaculate white chef coat and bonnet walked over to us, followed by a younger boy that looked like a waiter who was carrying an icebox with wine bottles, water, and orange juice in it.
“Hello, Signore Stefani, good to have you all aboard. My name is Chef Helena and I will be in charge of your lunch arrangements.”
“Thank you, Chef,” I told her, “We’re ready when you are.”
“Great. I’ll send Giovanni here out with your food right away.”
Giovanni stepped forward to take over the serving duty.
“Can I get you anything to drink? We also have an assortment of scotch labels in the bar.”
Since I already knew the menu, I knew what to order.
“Just wine for now. Cabernet for me, Giovanni.”
He opened the bottle and poured into my glass before speaking again.
“And for your wife?”
My mouth went dry. One word was enough to make the earth disappear from under my feet. Wife. I thought about Salva as my forever – as my wife – even before I proposed to her, but we never got that far and hearing it from someone else’s mouth felt like a slap on the face.
It took a couple of seconds to shake off that unsettling feeling and regain enough of my composure to answer.
“White. A crisp Chardonnay over ice and throw a few fresh raspberries in her glass too.”
Romina said she wanted the orange juice and after he served her, Giovanni disappeared inside the cabin to bring a chilled glass for Salvatrice.
“You remember how I like my wine.” She observed, and I frowned. What else did she expect?
Giovanni came back, this time bringing our food.
“Black Angus ribeye for the signore, cheeseburger and fries for the signorina, and for you, signora,” He smiled to Salva before taking off the silver dome for her plate, “brought fresh from Genova at signore Stefani’s request, the best sushi in this part of Italy.”
Salva’s face lit up and she bit her lip. I knew she was doing that to stop a moan or a cheer escaping, and I felt pretty fucking satisfied with my decision. Romina was happy with her cheeseburger, too, which was another win in my book. Ironically, in the States I would rarely think about ordering a burger instead of some good pasta yetnow that we were in the motherland that was my go-to.
