did her best not to look at him. Her quick response made her feel bad, but his made her feel worse.
“It’s just that we’re both here for work,” explained Colin.
The Signora scoffed. Wrapped up in her breathy burst was the universal sentiment that youth was wasted on the young. Not that Laine and Colin were particularly young, which was probably part of the issue. When love found you or you found love, your best bet was to seize it.
And yet…
It was supposed to be a certain way, wasn’t it? Like in Paris. Spontaneous, risky, swept up in a tide of passion. Or was Laine remembering it incorrectly? Somehow she and Colin had found their way into each other’s arms and hearts once. Why were they fumbling with this second chance?
“I need some ice for my ankle,” said Colin.
“Ice is not what you need,” said the Signora before disappearing into the back office.
Colin looked over at Laine, who was fingering brochures at the end of the counter.
“I’m sorry about all this. It’s not really how I pictured our reunion.” His green eyes held hers for an extended moment. She felt his sincerity.
“Me neither.” She smiled and shrugged. He stretched his arm over the counter and opened his fingers to her. During their walk back to the hotel, Laine had felt a current of electric warmth between them, though they’d done little but walk side by side with her supporting him as he limped. Now, as he held his hand out to her, she slipped her fingers in his, and all the heat they’d each been carrying flared up through their fingertips.
The Signora pushed through the office door. Colin and Laine let go of each other as the Signora dropped the bucket of ice on the counter between them. She looked at each of them in turn and then shrugged.
The older German couple shuffled out of the common room holding hands. They nodded and smiled at Colin and Laine.
“Buona notte, Frau and Herr Lehman,” said the Signora as the older man and woman tucked themselves into the small elevator. Once they’d gone, the Signora said to Colin and Laine. “It’s their 50 year anniversary.” She clucked her tongue. “Can’t have such history if you’re not willing to start somewhere.”
Colin grabbed the bucket of ice. “Grazi.”
Laine and Colin waited for the elevator to return. Laine would have taken the stairs, as she was only one floor up, but she wanted to make sure Colin got safely to his room. She felt responsible for his injury.
“You really think your foot will be fine by tomorrow?”
“Better be. I planned to walk over to my meeting in Oltrarno.”
Laine nodded. She thought her meeting was in that neighbourhood, too. She’d have to check her emails from Tina.
As they stepped into the small elevator, Laine caught a lingering whiff of sherry. That couple seemed so happy together. They had been lucky to find true love.
Colin pressed floor one. “Laine…”
She turned to him. He reached for her hand again and drew her closer to him.
“Can we start over?”
“How do you mean? Pretend we never met?” She was now leaning into his shoulder.
“No, not pretend…” He was looking at her lips. She couldn’t help but look at his.
Then the elevator doors opened. They stepped off and stood in the hall.
“I’m on this floor, too,” said Laine.
“How convenient,” said Colin with a wry smile.
Laine arched an eyebrow. She wanted to kiss him. She’d been carrying around this impulse for months. But she felt travel sticky. She wanted to shower, brush her teeth, slip into something more comfortable before she slid up next to this man who’d been in the starring role of her fantasies for the past three months. She wanted her first kiss with Colin to be perfect.
He started to say, “I have an early meeting tomorrow but you could…”
She put her finger to his lips. “Let’s wait. Let’s start over, like you said. Tomorrow.”
He looked a little disappointed but he nodded. “Until tomorrow then.”
He
“It’s just that we’re both here for work,” explained Colin.
The Signora scoffed. Wrapped up in her breathy burst was the universal sentiment that youth was wasted on the young. Not that Laine and Colin were particularly young, which was probably part of the issue. When love found you or you found love, your best bet was to seize it.
And yet…
It was supposed to be a certain way, wasn’t it? Like in Paris. Spontaneous, risky, swept up in a tide of passion. Or was Laine remembering it incorrectly? Somehow she and Colin had found their way into each other’s arms and hearts once. Why were they fumbling with this second chance?
“I need some ice for my ankle,” said Colin.
“Ice is not what you need,” said the Signora before disappearing into the back office.
Colin looked over at Laine, who was fingering brochures at the end of the counter.
“I’m sorry about all this. It’s not really how I pictured our reunion.” His green eyes held hers for an extended moment. She felt his sincerity.
“Me neither.” She smiled and shrugged. He stretched his arm over the counter and opened his fingers to her. During their walk back to the hotel, Laine had felt a current of electric warmth between them, though they’d done little but walk side by side with her supporting him as he limped. Now, as he held his hand out to her, she slipped her fingers in his, and all the heat they’d each been carrying flared up through their fingertips.
The Signora pushed through the office door. Colin and Laine let go of each other as the Signora dropped the bucket of ice on the counter between them. She looked at each of them in turn and then shrugged.
The older German couple shuffled out of the common room holding hands. They nodded and smiled at Colin and Laine.
“Buona notte, Frau and Herr Lehman,” said the Signora as the older man and woman tucked themselves into the small elevator. Once they’d gone, the Signora said to Colin and Laine. “It’s their 50 year anniversary.” She clucked her tongue. “Can’t have such history if you’re not willing to start somewhere.”
Colin grabbed the bucket of ice. “Grazi.”
Laine and Colin waited for the elevator to return. Laine would have taken the stairs, as she was only one floor up, but she wanted to make sure Colin got safely to his room. She felt responsible for his injury.
“You really think your foot will be fine by tomorrow?”
“Better be. I planned to walk over to my meeting in Oltrarno.”
Laine nodded. She thought her meeting was in that neighbourhood, too. She’d have to check her emails from Tina.
As they stepped into the small elevator, Laine caught a lingering whiff of sherry. That couple seemed so happy together. They had been lucky to find true love.
Colin pressed floor one. “Laine…”
She turned to him. He reached for her hand again and drew her closer to him.
“Can we start over?”
“How do you mean? Pretend we never met?” She was now leaning into his shoulder.
“No, not pretend…” He was looking at her lips. She couldn’t help but look at his.
Then the elevator doors opened. They stepped off and stood in the hall.
“I’m on this floor, too,” said Laine.
“How convenient,” said Colin with a wry smile.
Laine arched an eyebrow. She wanted to kiss him. She’d been carrying around this impulse for months. But she felt travel sticky. She wanted to shower, brush her teeth, slip into something more comfortable before she slid up next to this man who’d been in the starring role of her fantasies for the past three months. She wanted her first kiss with Colin to be perfect.
He started to say, “I have an early meeting tomorrow but you could…”
She put her finger to his lips. “Let’s wait. Let’s start over, like you said. Tomorrow.”
He looked a little disappointed but he nodded. “Until tomorrow then.”
He
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