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He lowered his voice as they walked slowly. “This is the hypogeum. It literally means underground. Two levels with a subterranean network of tunnels and cages underneath the arena where the animals and gladiators were held.”
Phoebe stopped walking. “That makes the gladiators sounds like prisoners. I thought the Romans treated them like heroes?”
Matteo pulled a face. “It was complicated. There was a gladiator training school, ludus magnus, just outside the Coliseum. The gladiators could come straight through the tunnels to get here. They didn’t need to walk with the crowds. Some were volunteers, and some were slaves. Stories about them fighting for their freedom are greatly exaggerated.”
Phoebe looked around and rubbed one hand over her arm. All of a sudden this beautiful place gave her chills.
“You okay?”
She gave a small smile. “Maybe just a little overwhelmed. People died here. For sport. I know it’s glorified, but suddenly it all seems so real.”
Matteo nodded and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go back upstairs.” His arm felt entirely natural there. More than comfortable. It certainly wasn’t comfort that was flooding through her veins right now.
He took her up a few flights of stone stairs and walked her out to one of the upper levels. There, sitting in front of her, was a table covered in a white linen cloth with candles flickering on top of it.
It was as if the world stopped.
“What...?”
Matteo walked over and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat, Phoebe. We can look over the rest of Rome as we dine.”
She blinked, wondering if any second she was actually going to wake up. “Wh...when you said we were going for dinner I imagined we were going to a restaurant somewhere.” She looked around again, not quite believing what she was seeing. The sky had darkened around them, and yellow lights were illuminating the arches of the Coliseum. “I didn’t think we would be eating dinner...” she waved her hands “...here.”
For a second Matteo looked worried. “You want to eat somewhere else?”
She shook her head as she strode over. “No. Of course I don’t.” She sat down quickly and a few seconds later her glass was filled with wine and an entrée salad appeared in front of her.
She looked around once again. There was a waiter. But she couldn’t see another single person.
“Where is everyone?” she whispered.
“Oh,” said Matteo easily, “we have the place to ourselves. The evening tours have just finished and the Coliseum has closed its door to the public.”
Phoebe lifted her fork and took a breath. “Matteo, just how rich are you?”
He winked at her. “Not rich at all. Haven’t you heard? I’m selling two houses.”
She let out a laugh and tried her food. “Did you get them to build a whole kitchen for you too?”
He held up his hands. “You got me. I sweet-talked a local chef at my favorite restaurant.”
Now she put down her fork. “You sweet-talked someone? You? Matteo Bianchi? You actually know how to sweet-talk?”
He gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sometimes, I can be nice.”
She kept a hint of teasing in her voice. “Just not to me.”
He looked at her warily. “I might have been...short with you. But that’s all. You think I haven’t been nice to you?”
She could see the hint of worry in his eyes. She held out her hands. “Matteo, we’re sitting in the Coliseum, in Rome, having a private dinner.” She picked up her wine glass and gave an appreciative nod. “I think we can put this one in the nice column.”
He sighed as he picked up his wine glass too. “Well, thank goodness. I don’t know if we could have made it to the Leaning Tower in time for dessert.”
She smiled and leaned across the table toward him, clinking her glass against his. “Hmm... Pisa, now there’s a thought.”
“You want to visit Pisa too?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. In my lifetime? Yes, I’d love to. But right now, I’m just getting over the shock of finally getting back on a plane and completing a journey.” She picked a little at her salad. “You know, it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought.”
“No?”
She leaned back in her chair as she studied the beautiful surroundings. “No, it wasn’t. It was more just the thought of it. All the fears. The expectations. I knew they were irrational. The sensible part of my brain could tell me that.” She met his dark gaze and gave him a smile. “I just had problems listening to it.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m not promising I won’t be terrified on the way home.”
