Honeymoon For One (3 page)

Ava
let out a small gasp, more like stifled laughter. “You’re really serious about
this aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Someone has to look after you.”

Ava
shook her head. “You’re impossible. And impossibly silly too.”

“I love you and I want you to be safe.”

“I’m going to have a ball on this trip,” said Ava,
walking over to her bag and taking something out of her purse. “I’ll wear your
fake wedding ring if you promise me that you’ll hand deliver this to Connor.”
She held out the 1.2 carat engagement ring he had given her a year ago.

“Can’t I just wear this for a few weeks first?”
said Rona, slipping it onto her fingers and flashing her hand around, admiring
the way the light glinted off its facets and sparkled brilliantly.

“Do what you want with it,” replied Ava with a
bored tone in her voice. She picked up the baby and hugged her to her chest,
then swung around with her. Tori gurgled, enjoying the motion.

“Look after your crazy mom for me will you Tori?
And make sure she returns that ring after I’ve left. And don’t tell him I’ve
gone either.” She handed Tori back to Rona.

“I’ll give it back, once you’ve gone I promise.
But don’t you think you should at least meet once face to face?”

“We did meet once and I slapped him.”

“Ouch.” Returned Rona, with a hint of sarcasm in
her voice.

Ava
had a look of satisfaction on her face as she recalled the time Connor had
turned up at her apartment just as she was on her way out. He had started with
his apologies and possibly the next sentence was that he was worried about her.
It didn’t matter, because Ava had been unable to resist the urge to slap him. And
she had. Hard. She would never forget the look of complete astonishment on his
face before she walked away.

He
hadn’t come again after that.

When Rona left, Ava started packing her suitcase.
She would be travelling light on this trip of hers. She packed a couple of
dresses but mainly jeans and tops. She closed her small suitcase, got her hand
luggage ready and prepared for an early night. She had said her goodbyes to her
family early in the day.

Tomorrow she would be setting off on her little
adventure and leaving Denver for Rome.

Ava stared at her reflection in the starkly lit
mirror inside the crowded cubicle of a toilet. She looked a complete mess; her
large puffy eyes had dark shadows smudged underneath. She closed her eyes and
splashed cold water over her face then gasped as the plane tanked a little from
slight turbulence. Half of the water went all over her shirt; the sudden shock
of the cold made her gasp.

Patting her face dry with a small face tissue, as
much as she could without swaying from side to side, she stared in the mirror. She
couldn’t even brush her hair properly. With her throat parched, Ava coughed
roughly and swept back her long, brown hair away from her forehead.

She had been up for more than fifteen hours. The
connecting flight had been delayed in Rome for a couple of hours and all she
could think of was falling into her bed at the hotel. The thought of getting
into her comfy pajamas after taking a long, hot bath gave her something to look
forward to. The seatbelt sign dinged and lit up again and she squeezed herself
out of the toilet and made her way back to her seat.

She stared over at the handful of business suited
people on the plane. It was a much smaller aircraft than the 747 she had
boarded at Denver. She was relieved that it would be a short flight because
flying in this little dinky plane gave her an uneasy feeling. 

About an hour later, Ava found herself waiting at Verona airport for her luggage. The other passengers, all six of them, had only had carry
on bags and were all dressed in suits. It looked as though they were on a
business trip.

The absence of any other holiday makers on the
plane made her wonder whether now was such a good time to be taking a vacation
in Verona.

She looked around her disdainfully. The airport
was small and mostly empty. It was quiet. She had never known airports to be
quiet. In her entire life, travelling was a buzzing, busy, energetic activity
with a hive of people scurrying everywhere.

Obviously it wasn’t the case here. Not at Verona airport.

She had been watching the dull grey conveyor belt
circling around and around and now, as she blinked her eyes, she saw that it
was empty. She double checked the monitor.  Her flight number was no
longer showing. She glanced at her watch, it was almost seven o’clock. There
was hardly any luggage to get off the plane but it seemed as though the airline
luggage handlers had messed up with the little that they had.

With anger bubbling inside her, Ava rushed off to
find the Information Desk. She saw the brightly lit sign, high up in the air, a
few blocks down and as she charged towards that direction, her tunnel vision
bought into her focus the face of the clerk sitting innocently beneath it, unaware
of the tsunami heading his way.  As her tunnel vision led her directly
towards the object of her fury, Ava’s eyes rested on the clerk’s face and she
saw nothing else. Until she went crashing directly into the body of a tall,
dark haired man. The cardboard signs he was carrying fell to the floor with a
thud, and as they did, Ava caught sight of the hotel name on them: Casa
Adriana.

It was the name of the hotel she was staying at.

Without any hint of an apology, Ava unfolded the
itinerary she was carrying in her hands to double check the hotel name and sure
enough, it was the Casa Adriana. Manners and civility flew out of Ava’s head
and the previously reserved anger, intended for the information desk clerk, was
now directed solely towards the tall stranger in front of her.

How useless was this man if he had come to pick up
passengers for the hotel and he hadn’t even bothered to look around for her?

“Casa Adriana?” she asked haughtily, her large
Louis Vuitton bag, dangling crazily from the crook of her arm. “Where have you
been? I’ve been waiting here for hours,” she said, her eyes narrowing
accusingly.

The man had bent down and was gathering together
the cardboard hotel signs that were now scattered all over the floor. Only when
he had finished collecting them all up, did he get up off the floor and then he
stared at her coldly.

The first thing she noticed was that his eyes
blazed like dark granite stones. The second thing she noticed was that he was
impeccably dressed, in a well cut dark suit with a white shirt.

She certainly wasn’t going to apologize to him.

He nodded his head as if to acknowledge her
without so much as opening his mouth and continued to stare at her.

“Well at least you’re here. I suppose I should be
grateful for that,” she spat out. His inaction was starting to grate on her
nerves but for a split second she started to think that she had mistaken him
for someone else. She cocked her head to double check the name on the cards he
was carrying. It distinctly said Casa Adriana.

Finally, he asked, “Can I help you?” His tone was
low and steady.

“I should hope so. Casa Adriana, yes? That’s where
I’m staying. Sorry I’m late but your little helicopter got delayed on take-off
and it seems the people here have lost my luggage”.

The man pursed his lips in annoyance. “I don’t
actually own a helicopter and I haven’t touched your luggage.” He looked at her
unsure of what she expected him to do about it.

Ava threw her shoulders back and placed an
authoritative hand on her hip. “What? Are you just going to stand there? Aren’t
you going to to……
do
anything?” she challenged, waiting expectantly for
him to do something. Jetlag did not sit well with her at the best of times and
she was in no mood to suffer poor service on top of the awful flight she had
just experienced.

The more she stared at him, wondering why he was
not leaping into action to fix her problems, the more he became annoyed by her
request.

“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” he finally
asked, peering at her with mild irritation.

Ava stepped back in disbelief. She was astounded
by how unhelpful he was. The service here was undoubtedly dire. She was fuming
with so much rage that the words she could not get the words out as fast as she
wanted. Any minute now, she was going to erupt with anger or cry from
exhaustion.

“
You
want
me
to find your luggage?”
The tall stranger stared at her in disbelief.

“You
are
carrying the sign for the Casa
Adriana in Verona, no? And you
are
the driver from that hotel, am I
right?” asked Ava, her nostrils flaring as she roughly laced her bag over her
shoulder. She crossed her arms against her chest and stood in front of the man
daring him to respond.

The man’s smoothly sculpted face hardened even
more. What Ava resented above all else, was that he appraised her as if all of
this was her fault.

“The level of service in your country is
appalling,” declared Ava again, standing up straight and staring at his
nostrils. She was wearing her pumps and was therefore at a slight disadvantage,
even with her tall height.

“I’ll need to speak to the manager of your hotel,
when you get me there. This is outrageous,” she complained. Then without any
warning at all, Ava’s eyes welled up and she felt her defences crumble. She had
started to cry, no sound no sobs, just a subtle breaking down of her armor. The
journey on the plane, and the actual meaning of the journey here had
overwhelmed her. She quickly took out a Kleenex and wiped her nose, refusing to
look up at the driver.

Just as suddenly, the driver’s features relaxed
and he managed a tight smile. “I’m so sorry madam. Sorry that you had such an
awful journey here and now that you’re here things are still not going well.”

Such an abrupt change of face embarrassed Ava. She
had put the man in a difficult situation and now he was going over the top
making up for his earlier rudeness. She watched as he leapt into action; he
summoned the clerk over from the Information desk and ordered him to chase up
the missing luggage.

“I’m so sorry” he said, apologizing to Ava
profusely. “Hopefully we will find your luggage soon, madam. I’m sorry, I seem
to have mislaid my customer sheet. What did you say your name was?” His attempt
at trying to be nice all of a sudden after such an icy initial meeting made her
uneasy.

“Ava Ramirez. From Denver,” she replied, looking
at the sign that he was still carrying in his hands.

“Welcome to Verona, Ms. Ramirez. My name is Nico,”
he replied, the expression in his eyes had softened, but only a little.

Ava looked around her at the clerk over by the
Information desk. He was on the phone. She turned her gaze back towards the man
and saw that he was watching her, with a distinct look of worry on his face.

She cocked her head. “You don’t need to worry
about me. I’m tired that’s all.”  Her tone was harsh. But before the
driver could reply, the clerk returned, looking uneasy.

“We’re sorry Mr.-“

“Go on,” the driver cut him off short.

“The lady’s luggage is still at Rome airport. The
flight was delayed initially and it appears that they didn’t get the luggage
onto the plane in time. It will arrive on the next flight.” He looked at Ava
apologetically.

“When would that be?” Ava asked coldly, rubbing
her forehead with the palm of her hand. She could feel a headache coming on. In
the weeks leading up to her vacation, she had never imagined it would start out
like this.

 The clerk blushed deeply and seemed even
more agitated than ever. “Not until tomorrow morning madam. I’m sorry.”

Ava looked from the clerk’s face to the driver’s
face and raised an eyebrow. She took a long, deep breath in. The driver had
dismissed the clerk and now it was just him the two of them. She stared at him
coldly. “Could this get any worse?”  She didn’t expect him to answer but
the man raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see to it that you have
everything you need. Come.” He ordered, leading the way.

Had he just ordered her to come?

Ava was too exhausted to question his
authoritative tone. She weakly followed him. First the plane and now my
luggage,” she muttered under her breath.

The driver let out a sigh and turned to look at
her, trailing after him. “Madam, please accept my sincere apologies.
Technically, as you know, the plane being delayed is not my fault. Nor is your
luggage going missing-“

Ava stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “It
seems that the customer isn’t always right over here.”

“Not if they’re wrong. No.”

She laughed at the absurdity of his remark. But
the icy look on his face told her that he didn’t think he was being absurd
about anything. He walked out the short distance to the car that was parked
just to the side of the small airport and held the backseat passenger door open
for her.