“Ooh, that sounds good.” I widen my eyes with a smile. “Yes, please.”
My phone buzzes in my bag and I take it out, the name Marcel lights up the screen.
“Hi.”
“How did it go?”
“Great, my God. I’m so excited. This is a dream job.”
“Good to hear, listen, why are your guards still parked out the front of your place?”
I wince.
“I just went over to your apartment to pick up my spare computer keyboard because mine broke and all your guards are in their cars.”
I scrunch up my face, knowing full well how petulant this sounds. “I kind of snuck out.”
“What?”
“I’m sick and tired of all this security, Marcel. I wanted to come to Rome unaccompanied.”
“Why would you do that?” he scolds me. “How did you sneak out?”
“Easily, I told them I was working from home for a few days and then I left wearing a blond wig and hat.”
“Francesca,” he gasps.
“Oh please,” I huff. “I’m going to terminate my security when I get home. I’m sick to death of being followed everywhere.”
“Well, if they think you need it, it’s obviously for a reason.”
“I get as to why when I was young, but now it’s just ridiculous. If something goes wrong, I call the damn police like the rest of the adult population.”
“Francesca,” he sighs.
I roll my eyes, annoyed that he’s raining on my good mood parade. “I’ll call you later.”
“Why do you have to go, what are you doing?”
“Right now, I’m about to eat a chocolate gelato and then I’m going shopping and buying shoes and then tonight, I’m going to Bellocchi’s for dinner.”
“With who?”
“Alone,” I snap back. “I’m going, my ice cream is ready.
“But….”
“Goodbye, Marcel.” I cut him off and hang up the phone. Damn that man and his sensible advice, I don’t need it.
“Here you are.” The cashier smiles as she hands me over the hugest ice cream I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you.” I give her a wave and walk out into the street; I lick my ice cream as a goofy smile returns to my face. I don’t care what anyone says, being left alone is fun.
*
Bellocchi’s is everything its reputation states and more. The most renowned restaurant in Rome. Thankfully I called just at the right time and someone had just canceled their booking, I’ve heard there’s a huge waiting list so it’s lucky for me the person who answered my phone call was too lazy to look it up.
I’ve had lobster, I’ve had the most incredible salad and now, I’m just about to drink my fourth margarita. I’m on a high, buzzing with excitement and it’s not just about the meeting I had today, it’s everything. The sneaking away from the guards, being alone in a city that I know my father and brother Enrico loved so dearly, finally coming to the realization that Giuliano and I would never have worked even if we had the chance.
Somewhere today between my gelato and the black Chanel stilettos I bought, I came to a decision, I’m going to change my life when I get back to France. No more doing what people expect. No more toeing the line.
I am a grown woman and I want to make my own choices and it’s more than that, I want to make my own mistakes. I’m so wrapped in cotton wool that how can I even call this living? All through university I had bodyguards, all through my teens it was monitored who I mixed with.
I smile goofily into my margarita glass and dial Anna’s number.
“Hey,” she answers.
“Hi.” I beam. “You’ll never guess where I am.”
“Where?”
“In Rome.”
“Oh, I thought you were at Marcel’s?”
“Nope.” I smirk, I really need to stop drinking, I’m feeling tipsy. “I snuck away from my guards and flew to Rome, by myself.”
“Really?” Anna laughs. “Bravo.”
“And now I’m in a restaurant all alone, drinking margaritas.”
“Impressive. What did Marcel say?”
“Don’t care.”
“Haha, I love it. Oh God, he would hate you not having your guards with you.”
I smile, although that sounded like it had an alternative meaning. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on, Chesk, he loves you being babysat by them, that way he can play the good guy.”
“You think he controls me?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Oh.” I frown. “Why haven’t you said this before?”
“Because you like being controlled.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, you’re twenty-seven and this is the first time you’ve ever snuck away.”
That’s true…. Hmm.
The waiter arrives at the table with another margarita, “Thank you,” I mouth.
“Well, I’m tired of living the way I do,” I announce, changing the subject. “Guess where I have to go next week for work?”
“Where?”
“Ibiza.”
“Ibiza?”
“Uh-huh the artist I am using for the hotel we are working on lives in Ibiza.”
“Convenient.”
“Yes, and my meeting with him is on Friday afternoon and then again Monday morning. So…I’m going to have to stay there all weekend.”
“Now, that is very convenient.”
I laugh. “Are you coming, or what?”
“Hell yes. I’m so off Frank it isn’t funny.”
“Why?” My face falls.
“My gut is telling me he’s cheating on me.”
“Since when?”
“I don’t know, but I’m suddenly insecure and I know that if your gut is telling you something, it’s usually for a reason.”
“Hmm…. I guess.”
My gut is telling me that Marcel isn’t the man I want to marry, but I’ll never admit it.
Obviously, my gut knows zero about what’s good for me.
“Has there been any signs or anything?” I ask.
“He’s been watching porn all the time, and different kind of porn, the girls are all blond, opposite of me. He’s working late a lot. Suddenly going away on boys’ weekends.”
“Hmm.” I twist my lips as I go over the evidence.
“Started trimming his pubic hair.”
Good God, that’s not good. “Well….” I shrug. “I mean….” I cut myself off before I say the wrong thing.
“Do you think I’m crazy?” she asks.
“Not at all.”
“Anyway…a weekend in Ibiza sounds just what I need.”
“Me too.” I smile.
“Got used to the idea of marrying Marcel yet?”
“What do you mean?” I frown.
“Well, you aren’t exactly thrilled about it, are you?”
I wince. “Is it obvious?”
“To me it is.”
“God.” I lean my face onto my hand. “Tell me to snap out of it,” I whisper. “I want to want this.”
“But you don’t?”
I get a lump in my throat as guilt steals my happiness once more. “Have you ever felt like you were a car crash waiting to happen? That you can see into the future at the collision, but you can’t stop driving toward it?”
“Every day.”
I smile, grateful for her undying support. Anna would support me into hell, and she has. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I need to snap out of this, he’s such a good man and he really loves me.”
“That’s not enough to spend a lifetime with someone, Chesk.”
She’s right.
I blink through tears. “Anyway, you and me in Ibiza next weekend, baby.”