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“Suits me just fine,” I say dropping down a gear to accelerate into the fast lane.
The streetlamps pass overhead in rhythmic waves of orange light as we whizz along. Away from the narrow streets, traffic thins out and we have the freeway to ourselves. Verrazzno-Narrows Bridge looms over the water. Then we’re past and it’s gleaming in my rearview.
“I want to show you somewhere cool,” Libby says after a few moments. She gives me directions which lead us back to a park overlooking Manhattan and the Brooklyn Bridge. Turning off the freeway, we drive up onto a viewpoint overlooking the lights of the city. The towers and skyscrapers look far away, further than just across the bridge. I steer the Lamborghini to a stop on the road beside the park then I cut the engine. I can just make out The Statue of Liberty lit up in the distance on the river. There’s no one else around.
“This place is magic,” I say getting out to open Libby’s door. But, to my alarm, she already has the door open and is about to step out onto the sidewalk. “Ah, Libby. Wait a moment.”
“Excuse me. What?”
“Wait. I will open the door for you.”
“Gianni. I can open my own door. It’s fine. Look I can.” Libby laughs.
“Libby,” I say with mock severity. “I am an Italian man. And this is the way I show respect for women I love. So, please, indulge me, will you?” I offer Libby my hand as she steps out onto the sidewalk.
“It’s a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it, Gianni?” Libby says stepping away from me and crossing her arms. “I mean I am not fragile or disabled.”
“No. Of course not. I don’t think that of you at all.” I lean back against the car. “Perhaps here in New York, it is unusual for a man to open doors for a woman, but in my country, it is expected. Also, my mother would be heartbroken if she ever found out that I didn’t do this simple act of care. And, as well, I like to do it.”
Libby stretches her hands above her head. Then she moves toward me and I wrap my arms around her, leaning back against the car.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I breathe into Libby’s hair, pulling her close. She takes my hand, and we stand side by side gazing out at nighttime New York.
“I come here a lot,” she says. “When I need some clarity or just to think.”
I hold Libby close and nuzzle her ear, inhaling her intoxicating scent. I kiss her neck. She shivers. “Are you cold?” I ask.
“No. Not at all. Just…” Libby turns to face me. I sense that she is nervous. She looks around at the city lights as if the illumination is helping to frame a sentence in her mind. Libby sighs, then says, “Gianni, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“And there’s something I need to tell you too, Libby.” I raise her hand to my lips and kiss her fingers. “These things I couldn’t say to you on the phone. I need to see you face to face because…”
“Well, maybe I should go first because what I have to say might alter your opinion of me.”
“I don’t see how it could. You are the most amazing person, Libby, I…” She puts her hand to my mouth to stop me saying any more.
“Alright. Here goes.” Libby takes a step away from me then turns around. She breathes deeply then says, “Remember when I told you, in Firenze, that I didn’t have the painting anymore. The Bartoli. The one of the Ponte Vecchio.”
“Yes. But…” Libby holds up her hand to stop me saying anything else.
“I lied.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I… I was hurt and ashamed that I was still hung up on you. And I didn’t want you to think I was… So, I lied to you. And, Gianni, I am so so sorry.”
“Alright. Libby, that is perfectly understandable. You know, we have come a long way on our journey since that time, so, it’s fine. Really.”
“Well. Gianni. You might not think this next bit is fine.”
“There’s more?”
Libby nods slowly. I can see she is struggling to get the words out that she needs to say.
“Here’s the thing. When I decided to paint and get my exhibition ready, I needed to sell some things to cover expenses because, you know, I didn’t have a job and…”
“Yes, of course, so you sold the Bartoli because you needed the cash?”
“That’s right. And I am not proud about it.” Libby walks a few paces away from me. “It was a gift from you and…” Her arms fall to her sides. “Gianni, I sold it at auction. And, phew.”
