Perfect Match (Vice Club Nights #2)

8. Tori

Chapter eight

Tori

Rome, Italy

L aughter drifts up from the café tables below, reaching me through my open window. My friends are somewhere down there grabbing drinks and snacks, sustenance before we set out to explore the city by night. It’s been a big day of sightseeing already, and we’re all exhausted and hungry, but we don’t want to waste a moment.

I brush my hair back off my face, where strands are still sticking after my shower. The heat today drained every ounce of energy from my body, and the only respite has been sitting on one of three narrow beds in this room with an ancient air conditioner rattling out semi-cool air. The Airbnb apartment is tiny, but what it lacks in size, it makes up for in location. It’s only a short walk to Trevi Fountain, and we’re in the middle of a district alive with cafés, bars, and shops.

May 29 – Rome is busy. The traffic is worse here than peak hour on the Harbour Bridge in Sydney. Today we bought tickets for the hop-on and hop-off double-decker bus, as it’s the easiest way to get around, other than by foot.

24,372 steps so far today, according to my Apple Watch. Most of those were done at the Colosseum and Roman Forum. Yes, my historical era is still a thing. But my favourite of the stops was Trevi Fountain, and unfortunately, that seemed to be the case with about a thousand other people. But finally, we made it to the stone edge of the aquamarine-coloured waters and threw a coin over our shoulders. Actually, we had to throw a second one in to capture the moment for Tina’s social media posts. Lucky, really, as I looked it up and found that two coins means I’ll not only return to Rome but get a wish too.

What did I wish for? That my vacation fling from Capri becomes several steamy nights in Florence. Now, that’s a hot and sweaty feeling I can enjoy.

Gio and I are still texting and getting to know each other better. I like him. More than I should because I know it’s only temporary. Just some vacation fun with a hot guy who’s not available on a permanent basis. And even if we could overcome the major stumbling block of distance, I doubt I’d be the kind of woman he’s looking for. I don’t fit in his fancy rich world.

Today was historic!

A key scratching in the lock of the apartment announces the return of my friends, and I toss my journal and pen down on the bed. I don’t want to think any more about Gio and the question of whether I’m opening myself up to a world of hurt by seeing him again. Right or wrong, I’m going to meet him in Florence. He’s my next adventure, and I promised myself I wouldn’t back away from anything exciting and new, even if it scared the hell out of me. If I can go canyoning in Switzerland and bungee jump off the Danube Tower in Vienna, then enjoying some sexy times with Gio will be simple—as long as my heart stays locked up and protected as tightly as the vault beneath the Bank of England.

As I start toward the apartment kitchen, really no more than a couple of cupboards with a sink, microwave, and small fridge, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Charli. Seeing her name light up on the screen brings a smile to my face, and when I swipe and her whole face fills the screen, the smile stretches impossibly wider. I missed speaking to her yesterday because of her shifts at the bar, and it left an uneasy feeling in my chest. Even if all we manage to carve out of our day is a few moments to speak, then that’s enough.

“Hey, sis,” Charli chirps, and I instinctively recognize the forced cheeriness behind the two simple words. Although they are the same as every one of our calls, her voice sounds different today.

“What’s wrong?” I jump in, knowing instantly that something is.

“Just the usual stuff. I hate my job. I miss you. And Brad is an annoying shithead.”

“So not much.” I smile. “Let’s start with Mr. Shithead. What’s he done now?”

“Apart from being on the same roster as me this week and just being in my face, it’s the usual.” She sighs heavily before adding, “But I want to hear about your day. How’s Rome? Have you met any more sexy Italian men?”

Sadie—our cousin and currently my sister’s roommate—pops her head into the frame over Charli’s shoulder. “Yes, tell us about the sexy Italian men. Actually, better still, show us some pictures of them.”

“Sadie, isn’t that a bit creepy, taking photos of random strangers, whether they’re hot or not?”

Sadie is the complete opposite of Charli and me, with no family resemblance seeming to connect us. She’s petite and cute while we’re tall and athletic. But what Sadie lacks in stature, she makes up for in other ways: A head of soft dark-red curls that cherubs would envy, sparkling bright-blue eyes, and curves that men would duel to the death for a chance to hold. On top of that, she’s as bubbly and fun as her wardrobe is eye-wateringly vibrant. But surprisingly, she’s as single as we are. Maybe there is one family trait we all share; the three of us are very choosy when it comes to men. No dickheads may apply.

Which brings me back to Charli and having to deal with the king of dickheads, Brad.

“How’s the job hunting going?” I ask, and the small smile that was beginning to tease at her mouth disappears.

“Not well. It’s very hard to get an interview when I’m not prepared to offer my current boss as a reference.” She really is in a difficult situation because her boss and Brad are best buddies and equally misogynistic creeps.

“Sorry, I have to go. I don’t want to be late.” Damn, she sounds miserable. And being identical twins, I swear I can feel every drop of her torment.

“Here, Sadie, you talk while I grab my bag. Bye, Tori. Love you.”

“Love you too, sis.” And as I go to swallow, a lump lodges in my throat. Charli’s face disappears, and I’m left with Sadie.

She leans in so her perfect white teeth fill the bottom half of the screen, then begins to whisper, “She’s really unhappy. That asshole is doing a number on her. He’s going out of his way to turn all of the other staff against her by saying that it’s somehow her fault that he fucked a customer in the toilets.”

“Should I change my flight and come to New York earlier?” I ask, my mind already working out which airport I could fly from.

“No, hun, she’d never forgive you if you did that. I’ll look after her, and she’s strong still. She just needs to find another job.”

Then I remember what Gio told me in Capri. “Look, that guy I met in Naples … he knows someone who owns a club in Manhattan. I guess I could ask him to speak to his friend to see if they need bar staff.”

“That would be great. I won’t mention anything to Charli until you can find out. But I’m sure she’s willing to try anything.”

My cheeks scrunch up with worry. “There’s one little hitch.”

“What?”

“It’s a private sex club for the wealthy.”

Sadie’s laughter roars through the phone. “You’re … kidding … me,” she splutters out, trying to catch her breath.

“What’s so funny?” Charli asks in the distance.

“Tori’s friend accidentally walked in on a guy showering at the hostel in Vienna,” she blurts out.

I nearly drop my phone. “How did you hear about that?”

“I follow Tina’s online blog. Shh … before she comes, just ask the guy about the club. Now I have to go too. But let me know what he says.”

We disconnect, and I’m left feeling like I’ve just been through a wash cycle at the laundromat. Sadie may seem like she bounces through life, but there is fierce loyalty in her big heart, and family is the centrepiece.

How was my father so different? Shirking his family responsibilities and disappearing out of our lives while we were still babies. When his sister, Sadie’s mother, not only went out of her way to keep in touch with us but also treated us more like daughters than our own mother did. It’s one of the great mysteries to me that I’ve determined I’ll probably never know the answer to. And I think, at this stage in my life, I’m okay with that.

***

I probably shouldn’t have had that fourth glass of red wine.

The bed tilts even when I turn my head slowly from left to right. I’m a lightweight drinker when it comes to keeping up with Tina and Amy. And every time I tell myself never again, I end up in the same position, collapsed on a bed with a bad case of the spins. I try moving only my eyes toward the sleeping forms of my friends; they’ve certainly got no problems falling asleep.

Stretching out my arm, I walk my fingers across the surface of the small table beside my bed until I snag my phone, then carefully bring it to me. The charging cable is long enough that it easily reaches without having to be unplugged. Flicking it on, the light flashes in the darkness, and I have to blink several times before I can make out the icons and words on the screen. I scroll to my last message with Gio.

It’s just after midnight, but over the last week, I’ve learned that Gio works late most nights and doesn’t go to bed until one in the morning. He’s also an early riser and up before seven. How someone survives on less than seven hours of sleep is beyond my understanding, and I can’t imagine it’s good for you. Although, tonight, I’m glad as I instigate a text message conversation for the first time.

Me: Are you still awake?

Gio: Ah, bella, I was just thinking about you.

Me: Seriously?

Gio: Of course. When I’m lying in bed in the dark, it’s hard to think of anything or anyone else.

This guy slays me when he says things like that. But I have to remember that one day together and some text messages don’t mean I know him, and even if he seems totally genuine, I need to tread carefully. For all I know, he could be a notorious playboy with multiple women around the world.

Me: I find that hard to believe.

Gio: Why?

Me: Because you’re you and I’m me.

My phone buzzes to life in my hand with an incoming call, and a squeak slips out of my open mouth when the caller ID flashes. It’s Gio, and the bravado I felt texting him slips away.

“Hello,” I answer cautiously, even though I know it’s him.

“Bella. You’re up late tonight.”

“Not really, as I’m in bed.”

“With me, it seems. I like that.” His voice deepens, and my stomach clenches.

“I hope you’re wearing protection, then,” I reply and instantly regret the stupid comment, even though his laughter rumbles across the connection. The wine hasn’t only made my head spin, it’s loosened my tongue too. I’ll be asking him what he’s wearing in a second if I don’t think before I speak.

“Tell me something about you that I don’t already know?” he asks, and the question throws me off.

“Are we playing twenty questions?”

“That’s a great idea. Go on, then, something surprising.”

I’m not exactly sure that I was suggesting we play, but what the heck. “Okay … I’m a Brazilian jiu-jitsu black belt. Both my sister and I competed as teenagers.”

“I’m impressed. And it’s good to know that I shouldn’t sneak up on you in the dark.”

“Were you planning on doing that?” The sound that slips from my mouth is a girlish giggle. I slap it quickly back in with my hand. I don’t want to wake my friends, and I certainly don’t want him to think I’m a giggler. Because I’m not.

“Your turn,” I rush to ask in an attempt to mask my awkward moment.

“Nothing as impressive as that, but I was into rowing at university.”

Rowing, that would explain his impressive chest and arms. “Which university did you go to?”

“That’s another question, and I’m keeping count.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “It was Harvard Law. What about you, did you go to university?”

“Yes, in Sydney. I have a business degree, majoring in Sports Management. During this last winter in London, I was working temporarily as a fitness manager at a central London leisure centre. That’s where I met the friends I’m travelling with; Tina is from California, and Amy is from Ireland.”

My mind then drifts to the fun times Charli and I had together there. We may have done different degrees but being at the same university meant we could share the experience. Speaking of Charli …

“Hey, I need to ask you something?”

“Isn’t that the point of the game we’re playing?” Another round of his laughter fills my ears. It’s not fair that someone as good-looking as Gio has an equally delicious, panty-melting laugh. I try to focus on my important question.

“No, something different. You know back in Capri when I mentioned my sister was working with this guy she went on a couple of dates with, and he’s now being an arsehole to her? Well, things are getting worse, and she really needs to find a new job, but it’s hard because her boss is good friends with the guy.” I take a short breath before rushing on. “Do you think you could ask your friend if he has any bar vacancies?”

“Sure, I’ll ask Ryan tomorrow. Nobody should have to put up with crap like that. Ryan’s a good guy and would never stand for anyone being bullied in his club.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that. And, Gio, I would never have asked except for you suggesting it that day. I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship.”

“I get asked for a lot of things by a lot of people. But you asking on behalf of your sister felt nothing like you taking advantage.” The call goes silent for a moment before he adds, “I have to say, though, I don’t like the suggestion that you might have friend-zoned me.” His tone is once again flirty.

“You’re definitely not. I plan on getting you naked again in Florence.” Oh shit, what am I saying? “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. No, wait. I did. But I shouldn’t have said that. You might not want to do that … I think I drank too much wine tonight.” Finally, the words stop, and I release a heavy sigh, one hand dropping over my eyes.

“Tori, I’m eager for us both to be naked in Florence.” His words almost have me levitating from the bed in exultation. “Now it’s getting very late, and I should probably let you get some sleep.”

At the mention of sleep, a yawn stretches my mouth wide. “Probably. But thanks for calling. I really enjoyed talking to you.” Another yawn captures me. “Maybe we can do it again,” I murmur, suddenly unable to keep my eyes open.

“ Buona notte , bella.”

“ Buona notte , Gio.”