“Sounds good,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
The young waiter slouched over, seemingly unconcerned as to whether or not he would serve us. But when I spoke to him in Italian, he seemed to cheer up slightly, his demeanor a fraction less surly.
“And would you know of anywhere we could rent a room for a couple of nights – nothing too expensive?” I asked, with a smile.
“My uncle might,” he acknowledged, surprising me with a friendly grin. “I’ll go and ask him.”
When I glanced over at Sebastian, he was scowling at me.
“You didn’t have to flirt with him, Caro,” he spat out.
I stared at him, utterly astonished.
“Excuse me? Flirt with him? I was being friendly, that’s all.”
“Well, it didn’t look like that from here,” he said, obviously angry.
I shook my head in amazement. “Rule number three, Sebastian, of my conditions for coming on this road trip with you: no displays of adolescent jealousy. Remember?”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.
Oh, great – sulky Sebastian. I should have added that to my list.
Our waiter returned with the limoncellos, water, and an older man with jet black hair and dark olive skin.
“My nephew tells me you’re looking for a room. For how long?”
“Just a couple of nights. Somewhere in town – nothing too upscale – although somewhere with a bath would be great. We’ve been on our motorcycle all day.”
“I have just the thing,” he said, happily. “My mother-in-law’s sister’s neighbor rents rooms. Her villa overlooks the sea – very pretty rooms. Only €50 a night. I could call her for you, if you like?”
“Thanks,” said Sebastian, deciding to take charge. “We’ll take a look.”
The waiter’s uncle – Aberto – soon returned, smiling.
“You’re in luck, signore, signora. She has a room available. I’ve written the address down for you.”
“Thank you,” I said, “that’s very kind of you.”
He nodded and turned to leave.
“Aberto, can I ask you something else? My father was from Capezzano Inferiore. He left many years ago, but I was wondering, do you know anyone with the surname of ‘Venzi’?”
I held my breath as he scratched his head.
“No, I’m sorry, signora, I don’t know that name. I could look in the phone book for you?”
“Thank you. That would be so helpful.”
Sebastian held my hand while we waited for Aberto to return.
“Ah, I’m sorry, signora,” he said, “there’s no one with that surname in the town – some in the province, but none within 70km.”
I breathed out slowly, feeling everything deflate inside me. How ridiculous. I’d allowed my hopes to get blown out of proportion.
“Thank you for looking, Aberto.”
He nodded, and walked away.
“Sorry, baby,” murmured Sebastian. “I know you had gotten your hopes up.”
“I was just being stupid. I just wanted… I just hoped I’d find some family.”
He kissed my hand gently.
“Hey, I get that. I know what it’s like.”
“I never even asked you, Sebastian, but do you have grandparents? You never mentioned any.”
He shrugged. “No, not really. Mom’s parents died when I was a kid; Dad never spoke to his. Big surprise. I don’t even know where they live.”
“And you’ve never wanted to find out?”
“I thought about it once. Anyway, I’m not sure I’d want to find anyone who was related to that bastard. Besides, they never showed any interest in me… it made me wonder if the bastard was really my dad. I dunno…” he shrugged. “Ches and his kids, Mitch and Shirley – they’re my family.”
“And Amy,” I said, teasing him gently.
He groaned. “Yeah, and she’s thrilled about that.”
“Well, she’ll be much happier when we show her the new, improved Sebastian Hunter. I could tell her that I’ve tamed you.”
He gave me a knowing look. “You’re treading on dangerous ground there, Venzi.”