CHIARA
I cleared my throat. "Is this the part where you're going to take me to your secret restaurant just to brag about it?" I asked, walking side by side with him.
He chuckled, his hands sinking deeper in his pockets. His usual posture, I noticed. "As lovely as that would've been, no. I don't own any restaurant in Varenna. But now that I think about it, it will be a good investment." He replied, taking a corner, and I followed.
Thankfully, it wasn't a vacation period, or these beautiful and colorful streets would've been flocked with tourists, buzzing around. No offense, but I couldn't stand people going here and there like bees jumping from one flower to another. Or you could just say I hated people in general if you still couldn't tell yet.
We climbed up a number of stone steps. The streets were busy with people's noises over lunch and their clicking glasses with wine. Some were even singing in the local language. Beautiful melodies that covered you like a warm blanket. Unlike the traumatizing karaoke duets from the cruise ship.
"This way," he ushered me by holding my back lightly. The touch was almost feather-like. I tried to ignore the tingle it sent down my spine, but it was hard. His touch was like a command that leaves you with no choice but to obey its impact. Not in the wrong way. It felt… protective? I must be losing my mind.
I silently followed his lead as he took us to this open space, with tables arranged cordially and a view of the lake across from it. The shadows of the mountains that were covered with smoke were like some giant creatures standing tall, and some lying down.
A man came out of the restaurant, which was a few seconds away from us. A big smile was plastered on his tanned face.
"Buongiorno! Welcome to our restaurant. How can I help you?" (Good day!)
"Buongiorno anche a lei. I need a table for two." (Good day to you, too.) Carmelo replied to him while I silently watched past them with narrowed eyes. I think I saw someone peeking at us. Or maybe I was just hallucinating.
"Va bene! I'll check right away if we have a table available for you." (Alright! )
"D'accordo." (Okay.)
The man went through the papers on his clipboard before raising his head. "Aren't you one lucky couple? We have a table available just for you. Please, follow me."
Couple? The air reeked of contamination. We followed him to our assigned table and settled down.
"Ecco il nostro menu'. Can I bring you some water while you're still deciding?" (Here is our menu.)
"Si', per favore." (Yes, please.) I replied. The little trek from the shore made my throat dry. The two of us told him our order before he went back to the restaurant.
We sat in an awkward silence. I was glad when I saw the man returning with a tray and two glasses of water. He placed it down and handed one to me while Carmelo reached for it on his own. Another server came with our order. She laid down the dishes before walking back inside the restaurant, leaving the man behind.
"Signore, la sua donna e' davvero bellissima." (Sir, your woman is truly beautiful.)
He said to Carmelo, making the water in my mouth go down the wrong pipe. I placed the glass down, coughing.
Carmelo smiled widely at him. "Grazie! Lo so, sono molto fortunato." (Thank you! I know, I'm very lucky.)
Asshole. I sneered.
I spared him a glance before setting it on the server man who spoke nonsense. His eyes widened. He quickly picked up his clipboard and held it close to his chest. "Please enjoy your lunch! If you need anything, I'm here for you." He then dashed away without waiting for a response.
Carmelo laughed as he looked at me, shaking his head. "You scared him away." I glared at him. "Are you not scared?" I asked, leaning forward on the table.
"Of whom, you? That'll be a third." He smiled lightly. The smile that ended up with him licking his lower lip slowly, thoughtlessly. All the while, my shameless eyes followed his actions. "Let's eat. The food's getting cold, Chiara." He started to eat. A small, amused smile was plastered on his lips.
We ate quietly. He paid for the food afterwards, before we strolled down the streets again. I rubbed my tummy, feeling like it was inflated. There was a reason why I hated walking right after eating. Now even my breaths came out weirdly.
I had this sick feeling of being watched since we were at that restaurant, but I chose to keep it to myself just so I could pull whoever the hell it was further to us.
Walking closely with him in the narrow streets that had palette houses, cafés, and mini restaurants. Our hands grazed with each of our silent, steady steps, but none of us dared to address it.
My heart began to drum. The sick feeling got even heavier, and that's when I let my gut take action. I grabbed his hand and pushed him around the corner. His body was against the wall while I was pressed against his front.
"What's wrong? What is it?" His widened eyes strike me along with two deep lines on his forehead. His hands wrapped around my waist, pressing me further to him in protectiveness. Blood rushed to my face at our closeness.
I swallowed. "Someone is on our tail. He's been on us since we left the restaurant." I said, looking back to see if the man would rush over so I could nab him and ask who sent him.
I could think of someone. But with the number of enemies I had for the past few years, I couldn't be too sure.