My stomach growls as I wait for my food. I try calling Bell, but I get no response. My dinner arrives, and after paying the delivery person, I take my food over to the sofa and slump down. While I’m eating, I get caught up in a movie that’s playing on cable. It’s so bad, but I can’t stop watching it. Before I know it, the movie has finished and I’ve lost nearly two hours of my life. Glancing at my phone, I see I have a message waiting from Pietro. After our flirting last night, I feel kind of awkward. I blush, imagining how embarrassing it’s going to be to see him face-to-face again. God, even the thought of talking to him on the phone makes me feel sick.
I sit down on the sofa to read the message while sipping a glass of water to stave off my hunger.
Pietro: Have you recovered from your big night out last night? Hope your first day went well.
Laughing, I press CALL. I’m too tired to sit here and text or mess with Siri’s misspellings, and I realize the sooner I speak to him, the easier it will be to deal with the shift in our relationship.
“It was Bell who had the big night, thank you very much,” I say when he answers. “I’m surprised she made it to the airport on time.”
He chuckles. “I’m pretty sure every night is the same for Bella. How was your first day?”
I sigh and lay back on the sofa, a smile on my face.
“It was amazing. I can’t even explain.” I shake my head. “I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a little girl and it’s finally becoming real.”
“I’m happy for you,” he says. “How do you like being away from home?”
“I love the freedom of not being watched every second,” I joke. “But seriously, I miss you guys. I miss the familiarity of Chicago, but I’ve only been here a day. I’m hoping it gets easier.”
“I’m sure it will. Find things to love about New York and focus on them when you feel homesick. That’s what I did when I moved over here.” I hear a twinge of sadness in his voice. He doesn’t often talk about his life back home.
“Will you ever go back?” I ask softly.
“I’d like to. But even after eight years it still feels so raw. I still miss home, though. That never goes away.”
“Maybe going home will give you the closure you need.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs. “I’m keeping you up, Luce. You need your beauty sleep.” I want to argue, but he’s right. I can barely keep my eyes open.
“Okay,” I begrudgingly agree. “I’ll go to sleep but only if you promise to call me tomorrow.”
“Deal,” he says, laughing. “Sleep well, stellina.”
Chapter 8
Pietro
New York City. Not a town I particularly like, but, I have to admit, I’m glad I’m here. I exit the airport and head straight to the taxi line, my suitcases in hand.
“The corner of Sixth Avenue and Fourteenth, thanks,” I say when the cab pulls up, and I slide into the seat. The driver nods and speeds off. I’m surprised at how little traffic there is, but that all changes as soon as we near the city. Chuckling, I observe the gridlock of cars around us. It’s going to be next week by the time I reach my apartment. I pull out my phone and try calling Giovanni to let him know I’ve arrived, but I get his voicemail. I leave a quick message and end the call. Staring at my phone, I click on Messages and select Lucy.
Me: Hope you slept well?
She replies almost right away, which surprises me, considering she’s probably in the middle of training.
Lucy: I always sleep well. It might never feel long enough, but it’s always deep.
Me: Now there’s a sentence that would have many guys confused.
Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I gaze out the window.
I know nothing of my new place other than it’s very close to Lucy’s, and that hers is opposite the ballet studio. Tapping my hand against my thigh, I begin to get impatient. We’ve been sitting at the same set of lights for what seems like forever.
“How far is it if I walked from here?” I ask.
The driver shrugs. “Five minutes, maybe?” I laugh and dig out my wallet, throwing him several twenties.
“Keep the change.”