to have them. At the very least, sign this one and let me buy it.”
Claudio looks so damn sincere that it’s overwhelming.
“You don’t need to do that,” I tell him.
“You need to take pride in your work.”
My brows shoot up. “Who says I don’t?”
“You lack confidence.”
Now my hackles are rising. “That’s a pretty ballsy thing for you to say when you don’t know me, and you haven’t read my work.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I am a ballsy man, that is true. But I will know you, and I will read your work. And if my assumption turns out to be false, then I am happy for it.” He waves his hand at the book. “Please. Sign it.”
I frown. I don’t know why I’m resisting so much. Hesitating, I take the pen from him, our fingers brushing against each other in a way that makes the air around us feel hotter and heavier than it already is.
Then I sign my name.
It looks strange on the page without Robyn’s signature next to it.
Lonely and wrong.
Oh.
Maybe that’s what I was afraid to see.
“May I?” Claudio asks, holding his hand out. “I am going to buy it.”
“Are you sure?” I ask as I place it into his hand. “I don’t know what book this is. You might read it out of order.”
“Then I’ll get the rest,” he says. He clutches the book to his chest in a gesture that makes my stomach feel alight, and then waves at the books on the shelf. “Let me buy this. You sign the others.”
He leaves and I exhale harshly through my nose. Man, he is bossy.
But I do what he says. That resistance is still there but somehow I power through. By the time Claudio comes back, this time with Vanni in tow, I’ve signed them all, each one easier to sign than the last, until my name looks like it belongs in those books.
Maybe this is a part of moving on.
Maybe Claudio knew that all along.
“Perfetto,” he says after I put the last one back on the shelf.
I balk at the giant paper bag in his hands. “Did you buy the whole store?”
He looks a bit sheepish and he glances down at a triumphant Vanni. “He had to have some new books that came in. Who knows how I’ll bike home with it all.”
Vanni just grins. “I got a book about the Tipler Cylinder.”
I don’t know what the Tipler Cylinder is, but I have a feeling I’ll hear about it.
“Also,” Claudio says, reaching into the bag and handing me a ticket. “This is yours. For the concert on the thirteenth. INXS, remember?”
Not like I could forget. He only told me this morning. “Grazie,” I say, slipping the ticket into my purse.
“Grazie,” Vanni corrects me, even though I know I said it right.
I ignore it. “How much do I owe you?”
“Owe me?” Claudio looks borderline insulted. “You’ll never owe me anything. Come on, let’s go back. Emilio should be home and I need to start preparing dinner. He eats as much as Vanni does.” He pauses and says under his breath, “And complains even more.”
When we get back to the villa, Emilio is deep in the olive grove, tending to the trees. I’m exhausted from the bike ride, so I excuse myself to go have a nap. I end up sleeping so long that once again Vanni has to knock on my door to tell me it’s time for dinner.
I get up, feeling groggy, and chastise myself for sleeping instead of attempting to write. I only just got here and it feels like the days are slipping through my fingers, and along with it, my chance to finish this book.
I slide on a pair of leather sandals and a cardigan in case the evening gets chilly and head downstairs and outside to the veranda.
Everyone is already there, Emilio and Claudio on one side of the table, Vanni and my seat on the other. In the middle is a bottle of mineral water, plus two bottles of red wine. I suppose with Emilio here, we’re going to hit the wine harder. Everyone’s plate already has food on it and there’s a basket with a small loaf of brown bread in it.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say, and I nod at Emilio as I sit down. “Buongiorno, Emilio.”
The old man gives me a slight smile and nods, eyes twinkling. He’s wearing the same plaid shirt he was wearing when he picked me up but now it’s caked in