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“I do not know yet,” I said with a sigh. “Jenna thinks I should tell Michael. What do you think?”
Kelly glanced at Jenna before speaking. “I think so, too. It would be a mistake to carry out any type of action before speaking to him first.”
“I agree,” Louise chimed in. “I’ve been thinking, though. You said you both ended things without a means of communication. How do you plan to reach him?”
“I do not know,” I replied honestly. “I haven’t thought this through.”
“Well… you could always ask Enzo, I guess?” Rachel suggested. Jenna, Louise, and Kelly turned to look at Rachel with a look of profound shock and confusion.
“Did you hear nothing Alessia said about how Enzo reacted when he saw her with Michael?” Kelly said. “Enzo is going to want to know why she needs his number. He will surely grow suspicious. The story they sold was that they were strangers. So, why could Alessia need his number?”
“Well, that sucks.” Rachel sunk back into her seat, looking defeated.
A thought occurred to me. “Hey, Rachel could be up to something.” I stood and paced the room. “Enzo is pretty old-fashioned, and so is my hometown. I remember he used to keep a phonebook in my father’s study. If he and Michael have been friends since he moved to the United States, his number is in the phonebook.”
“Seems like a longshot,” Louise said, unconvinced by my plan. “What happens if you don’t find it? What happens if you do find the phonebook, but the number is not in it? Heck, what happens if you find the phonebook and the number, but Michael has changed phones? I agree that asking Enzo for it is a bad idea, but yours sounds just as bad.”
I shrugged. “Short of shouting Michael’s name on the streets of New York, I do not know how to reach him.”
Rachel raised her hand. “Social media? I mean, he has to have a social media account somewhere, right?”
I snorted derisively. “Good luck with that. Michael was very clear about how little he valued Social media.” I remembered something else. “He mentioned a brother who had a wife, but for the life of me, I can’t remember their names.”
The silence built up again. We had all decided that it was a good idea to tell Michael, and that decision had birthed its problems. How to reach the man?
“Well, looks like you have to prepare for a trip to Italy then,” Jenna said. She had been quiet the entire exchange, observing as we spoke in turns. “Listen, Alessia. Everyone in this room knows how you feel about Michael. I mean, you have that gorgeous painting of him on your wall. The universe has willed it, and you should be grateful for the second chance.”
I took the first flight from Paris to Milan, arriving while it was still dark. I got a taxi at the airport that took me straight to Bologna. The driver declined every offer I made to take me to Siena but promised to get me a different cab in Bologna.
We found a different cab with little ado, and I was in my father’s vineyard before I knew it. The car parked outside the grand stairs, and I bounded up the steps in twos. I realized, belatedly, that my father would be the most shocked man on the planet if he saw me in the villa. I had not remembered to inform him about my impending visit. I said a silent prayer not to run into him.
I eased the door of the study open and shut it quietly behind me. The air was cool in the room, and the furniture was neat. My father loved to do his accounts himself and could not stand the sight of dirt.
I checked the time quickly and was glad to see it was not yet midday. I had a little over an hour before my father would make his customary tour of the estate grounds. I knew the staff would inform him about my visit, but I found it a better fate than running into him without notice.
I quickly searched through the desk drawers and was amused to find the phonebook in the same spot it had always been for years. I flipped through quickly to “M.” I found four names bearing the first name Michael. Two of the numbers had the initials G, but only one was an American number.
I suppressed a cry of joy, dialing the number on the page with shaky hands. He picked on the second try, and I knew it was my Michael. I sobbed quietly. It had worked. Somehow, it had worked.
For the time being, he was in New York at The Gates Hotel and Suites. His hotel. I wiped my eyes and eased out of the study the way I had come. I rushed down the stairs and found my cabbie waiting, with the engine running.
“Andiamo, signore,” I said impatiently. The driver looked back at me curiously, as if I had just burgled the villa. With the way I was behaving, I could not say I blamed him too much. I booked the first flight from Milan to New York, lying about a medical emergency as the reason for my impromptu request. It cost almost twice the regular fee, but I had lost track of my expenditures so far.
The cabbie stopped in Bologna, and sensing my need to hurry, he got me another cab to the airport immediately. I allowed myself to think about my phone conversation with Michael as the car raced through the country. He had sounded cold and worried at the same time. I had no idea what awaited me in New York. I had committed to the plan and had no intentions of backing down.
The cab pulled into the airport five minutes before the gates closed. I pushed people where I could, squeezing through the security line with seconds to spare. I decided to update my friends on the situation so far as I waited for my flight.
“Hey, Alessia,” Jenna said. “We are all here. Did you get the number? We were worried when we did not hear from you for hours.”
“Even better. Michael has agreed and told me to meet him in New York,” I said. “My flight takes off in thirty minutes.” There was a cheer in the background, and I smiled too.
“That’s amazing,” Louise said. “We hope it works out. Keep us updated.”
“I will.” I hung up and thought about Louise’s words. What did it mean for things to work out? I hadn't a clue what I was walking into, but I tried to stay positive.
I slept through the flight, only waking when the pilot announced we were making our final descent. I looked out the window at the New York skyline, one of my favorite views when traveling. It was late evening, and the sun was just setting on the horizon. I called Michael again as soon as we touched down to inform him about my arrival.
“That’s amazing,” Michael said with an even voice. “Would you like me to send my driver to pick you up?”
