Read Online When in Rome by Amabile Giusti - Free Book Online Page A

stripping outside the door. They can’t find me here, also half-naked and looking like the creature from the Black Lagoon. My heart pounding, my hands pressed to my ribs to silence it, I run to my room. I collapse in bed, all ears. I think I can hear the gasps of the girl who passed him that note, and the rustle of footsteps in the hallway, but nothing that evokes the thrill of two passionate lovers. I curl up on my side and realize that I’m cold. After all, I’m only wearing underwear. As I slip out from the covers, Luca opens the door. It’s not a pretty scene, either—my goose bumps and boobs are in plain sight. My mouth half opens to protest weakly, and then I collapse, my head dancing a rumba again. Luca stands there with my pantyhose in one hand, crumpled like used tissue. His expression is not pleasant. He comes closer, smelling of the outside world and the cold, then helps me get under the covers. He sits down on the bed with my pantyhose still in his hand.
    “So tell me what happened.”
    That’s weird. That girl is out there waiting for him, and he’s in here hanging out with the girl who smells like vomit and can’t even think straight.
    “Where’s the compliment guy?” he adds.
    “How should I know? I threw up on him!”
    “What?”
    “He kissed me and I threw up on him. I don’t think he’s going to tell me I’m beautiful again.”
    “Right,” he says coldly.
    “You can go, it’s all right, I’ll allow it . . .” I wave my hand like a queen dismissing a subject. I don’t want him to feel obligated to sit here and listen to my painful confessions while his blonde servant anxiously awaits him.
    “Are you sure?”
    “No, go ahead. Just don’t make too much noise. My head is a mess.”
    “Do you want some chamomile tea?”
    “No!” I’m starting to get nervous, and I don’t know why. Maybe I want him to hurry up and get rid of that woman; tonight the thought of the impending wild sex is making me feel dirtier and more desperate than usual.
    “Have you been drinking again?”
    “No! I mean, yes. Water.”
    “Why is your bra in the blender?”
    “I don’t know! I don’t know. ”
    “A little cranky, aren’t you, butterfly?”
    Then he leaves, his footsteps slow on the floor. His shadow disappears behind the door. How weird; the silence continues. Then I hear the roar of the shower and no cursing from the stairs. I don’t understand. Somewhere outside, a clock chimes six times in a row. A blade of dawn filters in from the window. Luca goes into his room, closes the door, and then there’s silence.

FIVE
    The first thing I hear on Sunday is my mother’s voice blabbering on the answering machine. I can’t make out what she’s saying, but the tone of her voice scares me. When I look at the bedside clock, it blinds me like a beacon. It’s almost noon. I get up and my head feels like it’s leaping around in a ballet.
    Luca is standing in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hands. I’m sure he already went for a run, as he does most mornings, but he looks as fresh as a flower. He casts an amused glance at me.
    “New fashion statement?” he asks. “Is today au naturel day?”
    “What . . . ?” I look down and realize that I’m naked. Covering myself, I flee to the bathroom. I take a fifteen-minute shower under boiling water, with my curls stuffed inside a shower cap to make them easier to manage later. When I’m all dried off and wrapped in my bathrobe, I head back to the kitchen. I grab a goblet-sized coffee cup and take a sip that slightly burns my tongue. I immediately think of last night’s nasty business—Tony’s kiss and my vomit on his shoes. I shudder in horror.
    “How are you feeling?” asks Luca.
    “Like a piece of shit.”
    “Did you really puke on that guy, or did you just say that because you were drunk?”
    “His tongue was a little . . . you know, wet, and with the vodka, it was just an indigestible combination. I couldn’t help