He nodded.
They set off, side by side. There was just something about seeing the city through his eyes that appealed to her. And with Enzo’s mood improving, the company was the best part of all.
“Our first stop is the Ponte Vecchio Bridge or Old Bridge,” Enzo said. “It’s one of the oldest bridges in Europe. And it still has houses built on it, though most of them are now shops.”
“I can’t even imagine living on a bridge.” She marveled at the idea.
“There are some great views from there.”
They started across the crowded bridge. There was an energy flowing through the crowd as they laughed and talked amongst themselves as well as conversed with the vendors, most of whom were jewelers. She was immediately drawn in by the showcases. She told herself that she was only going to browse. She didn’t have any extra money to splurge on any of the dazzling baubles for sale—not when she was about to lose her home and job. But looking didn’t cost anything.
She was in awe at some of the remarkable pieces. But there was a necklace of silver
and gemstones designed to look like a cluster of purple grapes with green leaves all wired together. It was remarkable. And she loved it. Then she looked at the price. It was too much for her budget. She gave it a lingering glance then, with a resigned sigh, she moved on.
She didn’t say anything to Enzo about the necklace, but when he was drawn in by a wristwatch, she backtracked to take a second look at the necklace. She didn’t want to explain to Enzo why she couldn’t buy it. She didn’t want to make him feel guilty over the events at the estate. After all, it was just a necklace—a stunning, handcrafted necklace—but a necklace all the same.
As they continued across the bridge, Sylvie pushed thoughts of the necklace to the back of her mind. It wouldn’t change things to dwell on something she couldn’t have. However, the memories made today were priceless. She loved everything about her time in Florence—including her tour guide. As soon as the thought came to her, she dismissed it. Where had it come from? She was just letting the excitement of the day and their newfound easiness with each other get to her.
She paused by the bridge’s outlook to take in the beautiful view of the river and the surrounding city.
“Wait here,” Enzo said. “I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared into the crowd. She wasn’t sure where he was going, most likely tracking down some espresso. A yawn tugged open her mouth. She refused to give in to her tiredness. Today she would take in all the sights. Tonight she could sleep. But right now she didn’t intend to miss a thing. Or at least whatever they had time to see.
Enzo returned. “Turn around.”
“What?”
“Turn around.” When she frowned at him, trying to figure out what he was holding behind his back, he said, “Trust me.”
With a bit of trepidation, she did as he asked. He reached around her, placing something on her neck, but he moved so fast that she couldn’t get a good look at what was in his hand. For a moment she thought it was the necklace she’d liked so much, but she dismissed the notion. He wouldn’t know about it, as she hadn’t mentioned it.
But as she reached for the pendant, Enzo said, “Hold still. I’m having a hard time with this catch.” When she stopped moving, he said, “I’ve almost got it... There we go.”
Sylvie moved her long hair, letting the chain rest against her neck. And then she lifted the pendant, finding the stunning mixture of gemstones and wire art. “How did you know?”
When she turned a smile to him, he returned the gesture. “I was hoping for that reaction.”
“What reaction?”
“Your smile. It brightens the whole world—at least my entire world.”
His words caused her heart to pitter-patter faster. “Thank you so much.” She fingered the pendant. “I love it. But you shouldn’t have done it. I’ll pay you back—”
“No, you won’t. That was a gift from me to you.”
“But—”
“No buts, just enjoy it. It looks good on you.”
They moved on, stopping to visit the bust of goldsmith/sculptor Benvenuto Cellini, where lovers from near and far had visited and affixed hundreds of locks to the fence surrounding the statue. Legend had it if they threw the key in the Arno River, their love would be eternal.
Sylvie wondered about having a love like that—a love like her parents’. She didn’t believe it happened for everyone. It wouldn’t happen to her, but the thought of having a love that endured time, trials and tribulations was very tempting indeed.
From the bridge, they visited Piazza della Signoria, Florence’s town center with its remarkable open-air sculpture gallery with its stunning works of art. There was so much to take in that it couldn’t all be done in a day, but they kept moving.
Sylvie snapped photo after photo on her phone. She didn’t want to forget a single moment. At the Galleria dell’Accademia, she marveled at all the statues and paintings. However, the sculpture of David by Michelangelo made her pause and admire the level of skill involved. Sylvie never considered herself a fan of Renaissance, but she was starting to change her mind.