One Summer in Italy: The most uplifting summer romance you need to read in 2018. Sue Moorcroft
being harassed. What was it about her that was getting her attention from older guys? Her pale blonde hair? Her air of youthful naïveté? The slender, boyish figure Amy made as she paused beside their table?
Sofia patted her arm. ‘Are you on at eleven tomorrow?’ Amy currently got all her seven-hour shifts in Il Giardino beginning at either 11 a.m. or 6 p.m. Benedetta didn’t yet consider her up to serving in the more formal residents’ dining room, nor to taking the 8 a.m. shift serving coffee and snacks in Il Giardino. The latter, though a popular duty with those servers who enjoyed having their day’s work over at three in the afternoon, was a solo shift only given to the experienced, such as Sofia herself.
Amy made a face. ‘No, I’m on at six again.’ Il Giardino shut at midnight but the shift went on another hour to allow for the departure of stragglers and the clean-down. Sofia had an unpleasant vision of a weary Amy being circled by Davide as the lights went down and witnesses to his actions became fewer.
Casting a quick look his way to check he hadn’t noticed Amy chatting, Sofia asked, ‘Are you doing anything for lunch tomorrow? If not, we could go into town together.’
A smile lit Amy’s face. ‘That would be wicked. I haven’t been away from the hotel enough.’
If at all, Sofia added silently, strongly suspecting that Amy was feeling isolated and out of her depth in Italy. Almost every time Sofia sought her own quarters when Amy was off duty, the younger girl would be hunched on a past-its-best bench outside her room so as to get a signal for her phone.
Although Amy seemed to be trying valiantly to learn the waitressing ropes, Sofia would never have picked her out as the type of teenager to leave her home to travel to another country in search of a summer job. Apart from the flash of spirit that had seen Amy wielding a tray as a weapon, she frequently looked lost and uncertain.
Sofia’s own late teens were fresh enough in her memory for her to acknowledge how patronising sympathy could feel, though, so she kept her voice upbeat and friendly. ‘Great. I’ll tap on your door at about twelve.’
‘Cool!’ Amy gave Sofia a quick smile, then turned her attention politely to Levi, probably realising he’d been excluded from the conversation. ‘Are you enjoying your holiday?’
Levi returned her smile. ‘Enormously. I hadn’t realised how beautiful Umbria is. I paint landscapes for relaxation and Montelibertà has fabulous views. Do you like it here?’
‘Mostly.’ Amy cut her gaze meaningfully towards Davide. ‘But not entirely.’ She flashed them both a quick smile before beetling off to the kitchen hatch to dump her full tray.
The brief exchange between Amy and Levi was so unexceptional that suddenly Sofia wondered if she’d imagined he’d been showing too much interest in Amy before. Levi hadn’t taken the opportunity to flirt or even to hold Amy’s attention by delaying her from going about her duties. Experimentally, she tested his reaction to being asked about himself. ‘Are you a family man? Wife and kiddies waiting for you at home while you roar around Europe on your motorbike?’
He showed no inclination to avoid the question. ‘No wife or current life partner.’ He paused while he took another sip of wine. ‘One daughter.’
‘A daughter?’ Reassured, Sofia resisted the temptation to ask whether she was older or younger than Amy. ‘Are you close to her?’
His eyebrows rose slowly, as if processing the question. ‘Depends how you look at it. How about you?’
‘Footloose and fancy free,’ she replied flippantly as Davide arrived at their table with an ice bucket, a bottle of wine and two glasses. Opening the wine with a flourish, he hovered the mouth of the bottle over Levi’s glass. ‘Would you like to taste the wine?’
Levi began shaking his head but Sofia said, ‘Sì, grazie,’ and when Davide poured a small amount in her glass, sipped appreciatively. ‘Bellissimo,’ she said, which earned her a nod before Davide half-filled both glasses and departed for tables new.
‘Is that performance obligatory?’ Levi lifted his glass.
Sofia wrinkled her nose. ‘Not unless you’re a member of the owner’s family showing off in front of “the help”, or a waitress who recognises the value of kissing up by playing along.’
He laughed and took a sip of his wine. He paused, looked into the contents of his glass, then took several more sips. ‘This is fantastic.’
‘Dad said I’d have to visit Umbria for the real thing. We used to buy it from the supermarket at home but he’d always wrinkle his nose and say it wasn’t the same.’ Sofia took a sip and let it roll around her mouth, giving herself a moment to absorb the pain at the memory, then let it go, content for the evening to pass comfortably over wine, a large shared pizza and casual conversation. Sofia discovered Levi lived in Cambridgeshire and ran some kind of website. She didn’t ask for details. When Aldo had been alive she’d depended far too much on the internet for entertainment and human communication and now she wanted to concentrate on reality and flesh-and-blood people.
Levi was good company. He made her laugh, his smile was the kind to make her tummy turn over and, in other circumstances, he would have crossed her mind about once every minute as a candidate to be her first ever – hopefully wild – one-night stand.
It would be exciting to see what developed from the expression in his eyes when they rested on her. He looked … hungry. It made her feel fizzy inside, even though she kept fighting down the attraction.
But he was a hotel guest and though Sofia let him draw her out about her dad, her promises, her intention to travel for at least a couple of years, her grandparents and the exciting knowledge that she apparently had living relatives in this very town, she made certain not to let her gaze linger too long on the way his body filled his clothes.
It was Levi who made the move, as Il Giardino began to empty. He let a finger rest softly on Sofia’s wrist. ‘Can I persuade you to go on somewhere? Maybe down into the town?’ And then he turned and took a good long look at Amy before checking out Davide, for all the world as if making sure Davide wasn’t making any progress before he left. Davide turned and obviously caught the look. After an initial start of surprise, he stared right back. Levi’s gaze didn’t waver.
What? Were they doing the alpha-male confrontation thing over Amy?
Infuriated that she’d obviously been totally wrong to give Levi the benefit of the doubt over Amy, Sofia didn’t see a need to explain that staff weren’t to mix too closely with guests. Her manners deserted her. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. At all,’ she snapped.
Levi turned back, blinking. Encountering her glare, he took back his hand. ‘I see.’ He waited, as if he thought he might get an explanation for the sudden frost in the air. When none was forthcoming he glanced around at Davide again, this time with the international gesture of pretending to write on his palm to indicate his readiness to pay.
Davide came straight over – waiters hardly ever failed to notice a customer ready to settle up, especially when it was late and they were grateful one more punter was ready to leave. Perhaps he was particularly glad to see this one leave.
Sofia paid her half of the bill in stiff silence.
Levi rose, his mouth set. ‘I take it you’re not going to invite me to your place for coffee either,’ he said sarcastically.
Sofia remained in her seat. ‘I’m going to hang around and help clear tables so Amy will have female company on the walk back to the staff accommodation. I think she could do with someone around.’
Levi nodded curtly. ‘I think so too.’ Then he spun on his heel and strode towards the front doors into Casa Felice.
Sofia stared after him. ‘You don’t have the moral high ground here, mate,’ she muttered to herself. Then she tossed back her last mouthful of wine and jumped up to grab a tray and help clear tables.