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“Oh, my gawd! I’ve been trying to reach you for days. I thought that vineyard Lothario kidnapped you and chopped you into tiny pieces and fed you to the fish in the Venice canals.” Talley’s exaggeration made me laugh.
“I’m sorry, Tal. I’ve been busy.” I dropped into a lounger on the farmhouse terrace, gazing off into the sunset.
“I know! All I have to do is look on Instagram to catch your latest adventure. Painting Moorish-Spanish ceramics. Weaving wool fabric at a Franciscan monastery. Shadowing a master glassworker for a day. Creating your very own Leghorn hat from straw grown in a field down the road. And the food! Do any of your clothes still fit?” She sniffed loudly. “And don’t get me started on the men.”
“I’m sorry. I should have called before now.”
“Ah, just ignore my whining and complaining. I’ve been trying to score an interview with that new cryptocurrency mogul who bought half of the abandoned properties in Indian Village, and no joy. Reality sucks when your best friend is living her best life in Tuscany.”
“I’ll be home in a few days.” A lump at the back of my throat made it hard to sound cheerful.
A considerate pause before Talley spoke. “Have you considered staying? You don’t have any pressing reason to come home.”
“I think it’s best.” I released the breath I’d been holding. “Things with Alessio are…”
“Is he mistreating you, Elle? Because, I swear, if he is, I will hop on a plane and whup his ass before you can say,Che due palle!”
Besides photos and reels of my activities in Tuscany, I’d shared common phrases, including slang for “what the heck”—literal translation: what two balls. Talley’s pronunciation was worse than mine, but I got her drift.
“Alessio is…wonderful.”Too wonderful. Wonderful enough to fall in love with, but that wasn’t why I’d come to Italy.“I came to Tuscany to lick my wounds and get back on my feet. I did that. Now it’s time to get real. Find a job. Get an apartment.”Get over my holiday fling. Pack up the memories. Become an old maid because Alessio Venturi had spoiled me for any other man.
“Have you two talked about—”
“Come on, Talley. That kind of stuff only happens in the movies. Jilted bride flees to Europe, meets a sexy, wealthy Italian vintner, falls into instalove, and lives happily ever after.” My fingers tightened on my cell. “Alessio is only here because his father asked him. He’s counting down the days so he can return to Rome and his quest to internationalize Venturi Wines.”
“What about you? What are your plans?” Talley’s characteristic pragmatism carried a tinge of censure.
“I have skills.” I didn’t hide my defensive tone. “I shouldn’t have any trouble getting a job as an office manager or—”
“An office manager?” Talley scoffed. “Elle, you’re still selling yourself short. Have you not been paying attention to your social media? Your followers have jumped from me and your mom to thousands. That little bakery you featured? They posted a comment that their business has practically doubled since you shared those behind-the-scenes photos and videos. Sydney wants to book a stay at your Airbnb to find her own Casanova.”
“Are you saying I should become a social media influencer? You can’t earn a living doing that.”Could you?
“I don’t know.” Talley’s words were clipped. “If Kim Kardashian can do it, why can’t you? You’re ten times smarter, and your content actually has value. Change the name on your account to Best Life, Best Revenge or something catchy like that, and you’ll have scads of jilted women following you for advice. Or just do some kind of tourism thing.”
“You really think my social media content is that good?” Talley’s suggestion was outrageous, but what if…
“Bella.” Alessio’s husky whisper interrupted my call in the best way. He nudged me over on the lounger, stretching out beside me.
“I’ll think about it,” I promised Talley because pressing END.
“Your beastie?”
I snuggled against him, laughing. “Bestie. She’s my BFF. Best friend forever.”
“What was she saying? Your whole face was alight.” The possessive tendril twining through his words thrilled me.
“She thinks I could get a job in social media.” I opened the Instagram app on my phone and showed him how to scroll through. “I’ve just been posting pictures because the scenery is unreal here, but Talley said my account is exploding.”
“Your friend is right.”
I rarely saw Alessio shift into professional mode, but he was all business as he considered each image. “Your have a natural eye for visual content. The landscapes are lovely, of course, but the way you capture people is amazing. Here, how you zoom in Eva’s hands as she’s kneading dough. And the single bottle of Mamma’s wine on the stone floor in front of the rows of barriques.” He splayed his hand over his heart. “It moves me,cara.”
He pulled back to give me an appraising look. “You should be in marketing. Your images are creative. Eye-catching and organic, unlike most promotional images. It’s fresh and evocative. And…mio Dio!”
He jackknifed off the lounger, almost dumping me to the ground. He paced back and forth across the terrace, face creased in concentration. Pausing, he looked at me, then resumed pacing.
“Come to Rome with me, Elle!” He punched the air exuberantly. “It isperfetto.”
