I went to stand beside her, propping my forearms on the railing beside hers. “It took me about a year after moving in to believe I would be waking up to it every morning.”
She paused for a moment, facing forward again. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother? A twin, no less?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone see him outside of work,” I said. “Both of us have a lot more to us than being part of a pair of twins. Somehow, though, whenever people find out that delightful little detail, it’s like it’s all that matters. Sure, it has helped shaped us into who we are, but we’re also more than that.”
“Kind of like being an orphan,” she replied quietly, then cleared her throat. “Let’s just say I understand where you’re coming from.” Pushing away from the railing, she pasted a bright smile on her lips and motioned to the house. “We should probably get on with the tour, huh?”
I wanted to ask about the orphan thing, but I could see it wasn’t the time. Instead of prying, I nodded and led her back inside.
Once I’d shown her the third floor and the rooftop entertainment area, I took her to one of the en-suite guestrooms. “You can freshen up in here if you’d like. I’ll just be a moment.”
She shrugged, held up her purse, and placed a hand on the door. “Sure, I guess I can touch up my lip gloss. See you in a minute.”
Only a few minutes later, we were back in my car and heading to the restaurant. It was a small cafe in my neighborhood that Aldo and I frequented. Despite not wanting the label as co-dependent twins, it just so happened that he lived on the same block as me.
We weren’t codependent, but we didn’t enjoy being separated by too much space. Besides, since we spent most of our free time together, it made sense to live close to one another. I just hoped he wouldn’t bring it up to Addy.
Aldo smiled when we walked up to the table. He’d snagged us a spot in the garden near a glowing orange ball of light hanging from the reeds that made up the gazebo the square table was in.
“I hope you’re okay sitting outside. I figured it was warm enough.” He pulled out a chair. “Here, have a seat.”
“Why, thank you.” I put my hand to my heart and darted into the chair he’d offered Addy. “You’re such a gentleman.”
He snorted, then pulled out the chair opposite me for Addy. It put him between us, but I was okay with it since it meant I would be able to look at her all night without trying to sneak glances.
Addy chuckled, took her seat, and grinned at him. “You might be a gentleman, but clearly, your brother isn’t.”
“Hey,” I protested. “You said I was chivalrous just a few hours ago.”
“I was wrong,” she dead-panned.
Aldo glanced from her to me as he sat back in his chair and grinned like the smug bastard he was. “Look at you two bickering like an old married couple. I like it.”
“You don’t know any old married couples, do you?” she asked, laughter shining in her eyes. “I don’t know many, but the ones I do know definitely wouldn’t count that as bickering.”
“True.” He lifted his shoulders as he placed his cloth napkin in his lap. “But it’s been a while since I’ve heard Marco so comfortable with a woman. Tell me about yourself, Adaline.”
I shot him a glare, which he promptly ignored. On the other hand, I couldn’t be too annoyed with him. He wasn’t lying. It also hadn’t been necessary for him to tell her that, but so be it.
Addy swallowed but held his gaze. “What would you like to know?”
“You’re an American,” he said.
“Well spotted,” I teased. “What else have your keen senses picked up on?”
He flipped me off, then turned his attention back to Addy. “How did you end up in our beloved Firenze?”
Addy told him her story, then asked a bit about his. They got to know the basics about one another before I finally re-entered the conversation.
Wine flowed throughout dinner, and we sampled almost the entire selection of antipasto while we talked and ordered our mains before it felt like any time had passed at all. Aldo laughed at something Addy said, then shook his head.
“No, no, no. You’re crazy.” He slammed his palm onto the table for effect. “Capital cities never give you an idea of the culture of the place you’re visiting. Countries are like women. The most beautiful parts are small and hidden.”
Her lips curved into a smile and she choked back a laugh. “Are you serious? How did you just say that with a straight face?”
“Magic.” He raised his hands out to his sides and wiggled his fingers, grinning like a madman.
“Also,” I chimed in, “he has no sense of shame, but he does have a point. In my experience, capital cities usually have a lot of the culture washed out of them.”
“Okay then, jetsetters.” She rolled a bite of linguine around her fork and paused with it halfway to her mouth. “If you’re so against me visiting Athens, Sofia, or Bucharest next, what do you suggest?”
“The question is how far away from Italy do you want to travel,” Aldo said thoughtfully. “Are you talking about taking a vacation or moving away?”
My heart sank. When she’d brought up traveling earlier, I hadn’t thought it was because she planned on moving.
She didn’t deny the possibility of leaving Italy for good, though. “Eventually, I’d like to live in a few more places before I settle down. For now, let’s just say for taking a vacation.”
“Depending on how much time you have and your hobbies, I would recommend Naxos in Greece. It’s the older, less discovered sister of Mykonos. Much less commercialized but still a pretty good party destination.”
My stomach rolled at the
