An Apartment in Venice (20 page)

“One problem with you tasting me,” Chuck panted, as he raised his head again, “once I explode, we have to wait. With you, we can keep on going.”

“Hmmm,” she said. “Are we in a hurry?”

Not waiting for an answer, she continued, and he was past stopping her.

“Micina, climb on. I’m close. So close.”

“In a sec.”

Then he did exactly what she wanted. He erupted into her mouth. She swallowed as much of his primal offering as possible and grabbed up a bath towel to catch the rest. Her heart was pounding, and she was pleased with herself. Anise! His special scent was anise. Immediately, he began to caress her. She stopped him. “Take your moment, Chuck. I’ll be here.”

They lay together a long time, dozing. Then he roused and knew exactly how to give her the most pleasure. They made love again until they were both sated and content to fall asleep in each other’s arms. An evening meal had been forgotten.

“Pronto,” Chuck said coming out of a deep sleep.

“Hey man, sorry to call so early, but . . .” Chuck slipped out of bed and crossed the hall.

A short time later, Giulia woke to the smell of coffee.

She cinched the belt of a robe she’d left behind and followed her nose. “Do I smell freshly brewed coffee?”

“Perceptive of you,” he said and wrapped his arms around her. She lifted his Tee-shirt, insinuating her nose into his chest hair to inhale his scent again. She’d never get enough and her tongue skated across a nipple.

“Hey, we don’t have time for that and breakfast too.”

“Why? What’s the hurry? Do you have to go back to the post?”

“No. We are going to the airport to meet Tom, an old comrade. Need to be there in ninety minutes.”

He told her about Tomasz Makowska. He spelled the name and said Tom’s Polish name was pronounced Tomahsh. He was coming in for a couple of nights on his way from a weather conference at CERN. With his Ph.D. in Atmospheric Physics, Tom was a specialist in meteorology and global weather patterns. Tom had also begun his education at the Air Force Academy, and they’d met in Special Ops training. But when time came for re-upping, Tom had opted out. His wife had given him an ultimatum.

“Now, though, he and Teri aren’t together anymore. Anyway, I want him to meet you. We can show him the Venice we both adore.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you’d rather spend catch-up time alone?”

“I’d like to have you with me—sort of show you off—if you would?”

“I can’t wear the clothes I wore yesterday, they’re in bad shape.” And she thought of the bad shape her emotions had been while wearing them.

“No problem. I’m hiring a taxi to pick him up anyway. Let’s have a quick breakfast. Then we’ll zip over to your place, you can change, and we’ll make it in time.”

Giulia hurried to take a quick shower and when she came back into the kitchen to grab a piece of toast before dressing, Chuck said, “Have a quick question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Have you gone back on the pill?”

“No. Why?”

“Earlier I noticed the patch on your hip was gone. I admit, though, I wasn’t all that lucid at the time.”

Giulia reached under her robe and felt for the patch, first one side of her hip and then the other. “It’s not there. I have no idea when it came off. I’ll be right back.”

Chuck took a cup down and poured steaming coffee into it for her.

“No sign of it,” she said when she came back. “Don’t know when it came off. When we stop at my place, I’ll put on another one to start a new cycle. It should be fine because the hormones stay in my body for a while.”

He handed her the coffee. “How’s the patch different from pills?”

“Not much. Both release certain hormones for three weeks and not for one week—to simulate a woman’s normal cycle. Some programs use blank pills for the fourth week. Makes it easier to take one every day rather than remember to stop and start again. With the patch, you wear it three weeks and leave it off one week.”

“That makes sense.” He looked at his watch. “Can you be ready in ten minutes?”

“Fifteen?” she asked.

* * *

When Giulia saw the tall, blond man lift his bag from the moving carousel, she flinched. She remembered him from the last escort service she’d worked for. In fact, he’d requested her on his second visit. Both times he’d been a total gentleman and made no sexual overtures.

The two big men embraced and pounded each other on the back. “Hey weather man, what’s comin’ at us this year?” Chuck quipped.

Here it comes for me, she thought. No more luxury to debate with myself. He’d know it all today. She straightened her spine and inhaled deeply.

Chuck reached over and pulled her under his arm. “Tom, I want you to meet the most important person in my life, Giulia Cavinato.”

Tom turned to her smiling and stuck out his hand to shake hers then leaned in to look into her eyes. “Don’t I know you?” he said.

She nodded. “You knew me as Juliette back in Eugene. When I was your escort, I had two brown eyes.”

“Ohhh yes. Have to say, I like ’em better this way. I requested you when I went back to hear Dr. Goswami, the ‘guru’ physicist. You live here now?”

Chuck’s mouth was hanging open. “Escort?”

“Yes.” Giulia looked straight at Chuck but couldn’t quite stop tears from welling in her eyes. “I worked for an Escort Service that catered mostly to visiting scholars. After all, the University was the main industry in Eugene.”

“I see,” Chuck said.

Obviously he didn’t. Most people assume an escort service is a cover for prostitutes. Mostly they’re right. Who’d believe a company that did not condone sexual encounters? One look at Chuck’s face and she knew it was over.

“Well,” Chuck said, and swallowed as if his throat was closing on him. Then he seemed to recover and hustled them to their waiting taxi. They climbed in and sped across the lagoon. The two men chatted but Giulia couldn’t hear them. The roar of the boat’s engine and slap of the waves covered their conversation. She was sitting across from them and could barely see them because the sun glared off the water behind them and directly into her eyes. She needed to distance herself anyway. She sighed. Strange how life works. The action she’d taken to get here, was now the reason for her despair.

When they dropped Tom at the side of the Hotel Gritti Palace on the Grand Canal, he said, “Soon as I’m settled in, I’ll call. We can take that long walk you mentioned.”

While the taxi backed again into the Grand Canal, Giulia said, “You can drop me at Ca’ Rezzonico, I’ll walk from there.”

Chuck moved forward to give the pilot instructions. But soon it was clear, they weren’t stopping at Rezzonico. Giulia started to go forward, Chuck held her back. “You’re not escaping so easily, Micina.”

“From the look on your face at the airport, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had dumped me straight into the lagoon.”

“You think? As I remember, we didn’t finish our talk last night about apartments.” He sighed. “Now we have more to wade through.”

She assumed he meant wading through more of her shit but was too much of a gentleman to voice it. After passing Rezzonico, the water taxi continued following the curve of the backward S up the Grand Canal, aiming toward the Rialto. Just before reaching the bridge, the boat slowed and dipped left into Rio della Madonnetta, slid under a low bridge coming from Campo San Polo, turned right onto Rio di San Cassiano and swerved to stop in front of Chuck’s place. For the pilot, it’d be a quick trip onto the last of the S where, in no time, he’d be in front of the train station waiting for the next fare.

Chuck’s having a hard time. Although I was only arm candy, I had sold myself.
Tom might defend her, but Chuck would assume he was saying what he thought Chuck wanted to hear. No doubt, Chuck’s pride had been crushed to think she had fucked Tom, not to mention countless others.

He took her arm and tugged her—gently as always—into the building and up to his apartment. Neither said a word. When they entered, he led her to the living room couch where he sat beside her. “Got a couple questions.”

She couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry. She now understood when people said their mouth felt full of cotton. Should she give him a list of reasons why what happened years ago had nothing to do with today? She waited, determined not to shed a tear. There’d been enough of those lately.

“Did you fuck Tom?”

“No!”

“That’s what he said. Why do I want to believe you?”

“Because it’s true.”

“Was that creep in Corte Sconta a visiting professor?” he asked with the beginnings of a sneer on his lips.

“No.” Then Giulia collapsed back into herself, thinking, what’s the use?

But then Chuck’s voice softened as if he were trying to pull back from his inquisitorial stance. Maybe he was trying to believe her.

“Talk to me, Giulia. Tell me your story.”

“May I get a glass of water first?”

He nodded and watched her move as she went toward the kitchen. She was wearing that same swirly skirt she’d worn when they’d gone to Sconta with Marc and Marlowe. No boots today, but pale, sexy leather sandals. And with that turquoise top showing a hint of her breasts… God help me, he thought.

She came back with two glasses of cool water. They both drank deeply.
Anxiety was thirsty work.

“Okay,” she said. “You know about the dream I’ve had since I was seven.”

He nodded.

She told of working as a waitress before and during undergrad school. It was stressful and didn’t pay much. She received small stipends for graduate work and tutored in Italian but needed more work. Needed the kind of work that wouldn’t take so much energy. For a few hours here and there in the evenings, when her brain was used up anyway, escort work paid much more than waiting tables.

She stopped.

He said nothing but listened in that focused way that left no room for subterfuge. She wasn’t trying to prevaricate anyway. Like lancing that boil on her heel once when she couldn’t afford to go to a doctor, she just wanted to get it all out—pain and all.

“And?” he said.

Giulia described the first service she’d joined with its two levels of pay. He seemed fascinated. She sat up straighter—feeling hopeful—and continued to explain how it worked, wanting him to sympathize.

“Some men signed agreements for Level A—no sex—but a few always thought the rules didn’t apply to them. I had trouble with a couple. One was that horrible man at the restaurant. He was the only time I’d forgotten to wear my brown lens. Soon after him, I quit. Later I heard of a different service that offered only companionship and strictly stated no sex.”

“An escort service offering no sex?”

“Yes. It was called Unique Escort Service. They catered to visitors coming to university conferences who wanted arm candy. It was like the A Level I mentioned. And it paid much more than waitressing.”

“No doubt even visiting dignitaries tried to break the rules, huh?”

“A few. But by then, I was pretty well tuned to recognize them quickly.”

“I just bet you were,” he said.

She heard a snarl in his voice. Her hopes had been high for a few moments, but when she heard that tone, she knew it was over. She couldn’t continue without his trust.

“I sense there’s nothing more I can say.” She started to get up to leave.

The phone rang. Chuck took her hand and tugged her back down.

“Good,” he said into the receiver. “My place is difficult to find. We’ll come to you. What room? Four ten? See you soon.”

“Chuck?”

“Yeah,” he said as he closed his phone.

“You don’t want me along. I’ll bow out rather than go through a charade for Tom’s sake. He’ll understand. He’s a good man.”

“He is that.”

“I’ll pick up a couple things and be out of your. . . life.”

“Giulia?”

She turned back to face him. His eyes were drawn together and a crease of what looked like pain formed between his brows. “Do you want out?”

She took a deep breath and stood as tall as she could. “If you can’t trust me?” She exhaled and felt her body deflate. “Yes.”

He ran his hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “It’s your
past,
I know. But it’s a lot to process. I wish,” his voice sounded hoarse, “Lord, I wish you’d told me sooner.”

She nodded crumpling and sat on an ottoman across from the couch. “It’s been weighing on me—”

“I often wondered. From the first, I’ve known a barrier hid part of you. Kept hoping it would come down.”

“Well, it came with a crash today,” she said in a thready voice.

“Thanks to Tom. Were you ever going to tell me?”

“I tried. But one thing or another kept… No. That’s not true. It was me who kept waiting for the perfect time. I didn’t want to lose—”

“I don’t want to lose what we had either,” Chuck said leaning toward her.

“I should go to my place. Give you time to—maybe after Tom leaves—”

“No need for a charade. While Tom’s here, I want you with me.”

“I see,” she said. Her eyes were dull. Her shoulders sagged.

“No, you don’t. What I mean is, I want you with me while he’s here.”

“How is that different?”

“God, I don’t know. Let’s go.” He took her hand and pulled her up. “Maybe I’ll work it out.”

Giulia had never been inside the famous Gritti Palazzo, former home of Andrea Gritti, one of the strongest
doges
, rulers, of old Venice. The silken lobby walls of the hotel shimmered with reflected light from the Grand Canal flowing outside the open door. On the back wall was an excellent copy of a portrait by Titian of Doge Gritti. It was mounted in an ornate gilt frame. From her only trip to the National Gallery in Washington, D. C., she recognized the doge’s proud, fierce face that oozed power.

A large bouquet sat on an ornate table beneath the portrait and hid the lower section of the painting. Would Titian hate having that display of flowers hide any part of his painting? From what Giulia had read about him, he wouldn’t care as long as he’d been paid. He was known for demanding and getting high sums for his portraits of important figures.

Ordinarily, this would have been a thrilling moment for her, but today was not ordinary. Her nerves were frayed. When Chuck and Giulia arrived at Tom’s door, he greeted them with hair damp from the shower. But its bright gold color was barely darkened, and his butterscotch-chocolate brown eyes shown with mischief. For a moment, Giulia was back to being twelve years old at summer camp when the first male she’d ever fantasized over was in charge of the waterfront. Bill Fear—a name engraved in her memory—was gloriously blond with the same teasing brown eyes. But he was seventeen and absolutely unattainable.

With a grandiose sweep of his arm, Tom welcomed them inside his sitting room which also had silken walls, a glittering chandelier suspended from a high ceiling and large, ornate chairs with bronze, velvet-covered cushions. He snagged Giulia’s hand and swept her to the open window that looked across to
Santa Maria della Salute,
Saint Mary of Health. The church, together with the former
dogana,
customs house, overlooked the most picturesque part of the basin and was probably the most photographed of all churches in Venice. To her, it was the most beautiful. Chuck came behind her and said, “What a view.”

Tom looked at Chuck and said, “Yes, she is.” Not one to dance around an issue, he said, “In my usual suave manner, guess I blundered into something, didn’t I? Sorry. Hope it won’t plague the two of you like Pandora’s box.”

“I do too,” Giulia and Chuck said almost simultaneously.

“That sounds hopeful,” Tom said, and his warm brown eyes almost twinkled. “You do know, don’t you, that when she let all the evils into the world, one thing was left lying in a dark corner of that box.”

Chuck and Giulia both seemed too stunned to respond.

“Hope. It was hope!” Silence prevailed. No one spoke. “Listen. You two aren’t obligated to cart me around. You need to be alone to sort things out. I’m a big boy. I can poke around Venice myself.”

“You can, but you won’t. We’ve talked some, and for my part, I could use a break to focus on something else. And you, ol’ buddy are it.” Turning to Giulia, Chuck said, “How about you, love?”

She nodded, speechless. Still shaken by the last two days’ events. Giulia felt as if she’d stepped off a wobbly roller coaster. Dashed to the bottom when Chuck hadn’t answered her calls. Carried to the highest peak by their passionate reunion last night. Then at the airport, the coaster had collapsed.

“I’ve never been to Torcello or to Cipriani’s famous restaurant on that island,” Tom said. “I tried to get a room at that little inn, but it was full. I’m on a generous expense account as you can see from these digs. God, I have to pinch myself. Me, a kid from Poland Street in Detroit in this palazzo on the Grand Canal,” and he spread his arms wide to the view again.

“I think we can swing a bite at Cipriani’s,” Chuck said. “Wanna go tonight?”

“Anything works, friend. I’ve missed you. If we can get in, we can catch up and eat good grub at the same time. I promise to use the proper fork.”

“Maybe it’d be best for you two to go without me,” Giulia offered. “I’m sure you have tons to talk about.”

“Oh no you don’t. Without
your
class, they wouldn’t let us past the front door, reservations or not,” Tom said.

Giulia laughed for the first time in awhile. “You
are
a charmer.”

“Naw, just quick to observe the obvious.”

Giulia had to admit she could use a light touch, too.

* * *

They took a vaporetto to Torcello Island and strolled past the two grand churches near the restaurant until time for their reservations. Both were closed. The small area around the churches was well maintained and dedicated to what was left of the first settlement of Venice. Tom found a primitive stone seat under the shade of a tree and plopped onto it.

“That’s called Attila’s Chair,” Giulia said smiling, “because legend blames Attila the Hun for driving mainland people out here.”

“When
did
the first people come?” Tom asked.

“Exact dates are lost, but experts think those brave souls first ventured out here in the middle of the sixth century. Each time the huns swooped in from the North and East, people fled into the lagoon to hide. Finally some stayed and lived mostly on fish and sold their extra catch back on the mainland. They must have roamed all over the Lagoon because they also sold salt mined in the southernmost part, all the way to Chioggia. To answer your question, all I
know
is shown on the small plaque in the duomo that claims it was built in 639 A.D.

“Those first people must have been a lot like American pioneers trying to find a better life by moving into the wilderness,” Tom said.

“Tough people for sure,” Chuck added.

“Was history your major?” Tom asked her as they walked past an ancient palazzo that housed a small museum—also closed for the night.

“No,” she laughed softly. “I teach English but have been crazy about all things Venetian since I was a kid.” She looked up at Chuck who was staring at her with what seemed to be adoration or… was it disgust?
Maybe thinking how that damned dream brought me here at any cost.

She turned back to Tom. “Too bad we can’t get in the duomo,” she said. “The mosaics are magnificent especially the one of the Teotoca Madonna.”

“Tayo what?” Tom asked.

“Teotoca,” and she spelled it out for him. “In ancient Greek it means God Bearer. She stands tall and elegant in the apse, which is entirely covered with golden mosaics. A lot of other interesting art in there too. She oversees it all. She holds her child triumphantly, but if you look closely, you can see one tear falling on her cheek—an amazing mosaic tear.”

“Wish I could see her, Giulia. Obviously, she made a huge impression on you,” he said.

She nodded. Chuck put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Anyone hungry?” he said. “We can go in now.”

* * *

Giulia was excited to see the inside, but wished it were a happier moment for her first time. She’d been to Torcello often, but never felt she could afford Cipriani’s. From the outside, the little inn was not nearly as imposing as The Gritti. Bright red geraniums in huge terra-cotta pots stood in front of the entrance and added color to the dull beige stucco of the plain building.

The maître d’ led them past the main dining room with walls of rich, burgundy-red bricks. Pale pink cloths draped to the floor covered round tables. Each table boasted scarlet napkins and a bouquet of scarlet roses. Giulia looked longingly toward those colors and the elegance. In a few moments, though, she was thrilled to see the majordomo pulling out a chair for her at a table decorated in the same rich hues. It, too, held a bouquet of crimson roses. Their table was nestled in a secluded alcove formed by small ficus trees.

Flutes of Prosecco were poured for each of them and menus lay beside their places. While Giulia excused herself to the restroom, the two men looked at each other. “What’s going on in that thick skull of yours?” Tom asked.

“Brain’s churning for sure.”

“She’s a gem, you know.”

“I do. It’s a lot to digest. Last night—” Chuck stopped. He’d almost blurted to Tom about the incredible head she’d given him saying she wasn’t an expert but would figure it out. Man did she ever. But he couldn’t do that to her.

Tom looked and waited.

“Making love with her has been beyond fantastic. From the first, she’s been right there with me. Then this morning, when you dropped that bomb, all at once I began wondering if it had all been technique? And how many others? Even you.”

“Whoa!” Tom leapt up from the table. “Thought on the taxi this morning you got it that nothing happened. If you can’t trust me, I’m outta here.”

Chuck was up and around the table in a split second, grabbing Tom by the shoulders, “Sorry, man. I’m an idiot.”

“I’ll shake on that,” Tom said. Both men sat down facing each other again, touched glasses and took a swallow, never breaking eye contact.

“Are you able to listen for a minute without jumping to conclusions?”

Chuck sighed and nodded his head.

“Here’s what I think. You’re mixing apples and oranges.”

“How so?”

“Step back—if you can—from this latest news. How do you feel about her? Not her past. With Teri, I learned too late that the here and now is what it’s about. Has to be. If you dwell on what happened before… ” Tom threw his arm back in an arc, and stared down at his hand for a long moment. His voice came out deep and gravelly. “That shit’ll drag you into the pits.” He looked straight into Chuck’s eyes. “You’ll never crawl out.”

“I’m crazy for her. Fell like a ton of bricks the first time we met. And, man, the way she responds to me, but then—”

“For God’s sake. Every time you think she’s responding to
you
, are you going to wonder if it’s the sweet apples you had before I upset the cart, or all bitter lemons?”

Chuck was silent. “Oranges.”

“What?” Tom asked, frowning.

“Bitter oranges.”

“Oh… yeah.”

Chuck looked more miserable than Tom had ever seen him, even during their worst scrapes together.

“You’re letting your dick rule. If she means
anything
to you—and the way you look at her says she does—watch out. If you keep this up, you’re gonna lose her.”

Chuck nodded, remembering Giulia admitting she wanted out if he didn’t trust her.

“She’s one fine lady. Great conversationalist. Quick mind. Great listener. That’s why I requested her when I went back to Eugene. I wasn’t looking for a lay either time. Too damned twisted and torn over Teri. I opened up about that with Giulia. She tuned in but didn’t offer a shitload of advice like many do.”

“Still, wish she’d told me.”

“Sure… I can imagine why she didn’t though.”

“Said she wanted to. Waiting for the right time. I’ve known something’s been bothering her. Said she was afraid of losing me.”

“Somewhere above your dick-brain, do you believe her?”

“Think so. Want to.”

“What about your own past? You want her to know everything you’ve done and been through?”

Chuck stared into his drink, his mind falling backward in time. Finally he took a sip of Prosecco and looked back at Tom with bleak shadows in his eyes.

* * *

Giulia sat in a stall wondering how she could possibly eat a bite. She was sure the men were talking about her—almost hoped so. But it was foolish, to hope Tom could convince Chuck to believe her. Trust. Faith. Strange how they worked or didn’t. She stood up, flushed and went to the sink hardly daring to look in the mirror. Her eyes were hollow, her skin sallow. She pinched her cheeks. Took a deep breath and knew she had to leave it all to the universe. At least she’d fulfilled her dream. But that apartment could be a palazzo along the Grand Canal, and if Chuck didn’t believe her, it would feel like a hovel.

* * *

“Here she comes.” Tom said and began to tell a story of how they’d made fools of themselves letting off steam in a crappy dive after bad breaks during Desert Storm. As she arrived at the table, Tom summarized his story for her saying, “Pure junior high stuff.” They all laughed as she sat down.

“We better order, I’m hungry. Don’t look at the prices. Remember my expense account.”

The moment Giulia sat down, a waiter came to remove her untouched flute of Prosecco and place a fresh one before her, then topped up the men’s drinks. “My goodness. The service here’s amazing,” she said lifting her glass.

“Wait, wait,” Tom said. “A toast to all of us together in Venice.”

They touched each other’s glasses and drank. “And Tom,” Giulia said, holding out her glass again, “another to your next visit.”

“It might be sooner than you think. I’ll be settling in Brussels soon. It’ll make it a whole lot easier to drop down to
La Serenissima.
Ah yes. The most serene of all. Let’s toast the city.” They took another sip.

“What’s in Brussels?” Chuck asked.

“Belgian Institute for Space Aeronomy and Weather-Modeling Physics. I’m looking forward to it. Need a change work-wise and… for sure life-wise.”

“Sounds good. You’ve been wanting to do more atmospheric modeling for a long time, right?”

He nodded. “Maybe a bit of solar work, too. But right now, my stomach wants those antipasti heading our way.”

A young waiter staggered toward them with a huge platter of raw veggies, various sea critters fried and pickled, an array of salamis, cheese and olives. Another, brought hot puff pastries in various shapes and fillings.

“We won’t need to order anything else,” Giulia said reaching for one of the delicate breads. Maybe she
could
eat a bite or two.

The size of the platter was deceiving because each small item was nested into an artful arrangement of delicate greens. The men managed to devour every morsel with a little help from her.

For their
primi,
Chuck ordered
gnocchetti di patate con pomodorini,
little gnocchi made with potato flour and tomato sauce. Giulia ordered
ravioli formaggio di capra con melanzane e timo,
ravioli stuffed with goat cheese, eggplant and thyme, and Tom ordered the most exotic item,
strettine al ragù di seppie e fiori di zucca al profumo di limone,
linguine made with stinging nettles and a sauce of cuttlefish and squash flowers flavored with essence of lemon.