Page 97 of The Roman Holiday Rule

“She texted Mariella, thanking her for her friendship this week. Said to pass along her thanks to you and me too. You didn’t even get in a text sentence by yourself. Harsh. What happened?”

I’m silent for so long Luca asks if I’m still there. Listing my failures in front of everyone in the room is not my idea of a good day at work. “She was always going to leave, and I never should have let it go so far. I know you told me so.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy it ended the way it did, this time or last time.”

Pinching my nose, I pace up and down the short hall. Surely I made the right decision. “We’ll talk about this later.” Unless I can avoid it. “I have to go.”

I hang up, and Nonno appears at my side, his expression tight. “Let’s take a ride in the elevator.”

The elevator. That would have come in handy five minutes ago if I’d had the wits to think of it. My head isnotin a good place.

We step in and the doors close. It smells like men’s cologne inhere. I loosen my tie, then remember Lexington straightening it at the gallery.Pop.

Nonno punches all the floors and the elevator shudders down to the next level, just like in a movie. “Your grandmother wants me to find out what the deal is with Lexi. Isn’t she leaving today? What’s next?”

“Et tu, Brute?”

He chuckles, but I clench my teeth. I’m not joking. Can a guy not have five minutes to convince himself he did the right thing even though his throat feels thick and he wants to throw a baseball against a wall so hard something breaks? To figure out why it feels like I got everything backward?

“I’m not pushing, but you can talk to me.” He holds up his hands. “For once, I promise not to pass on anything you say. This is your one chance for immunity. Take it or leave it.”

I have to get some of this off my chest or I’ll implode, and better that it’s Nonno than one of the women. I run my hand through my hair. “Love terrifies me. It’s led to nothing but heartache. I could maybe take a risk, in a normal situation, but Lexington put me in exactly the same position as Zoe. She’s getting on a plane and going home.”

The words taste wrong in my mouth.

Lexington isnotZoe. Lexington fit with my family, spoke Romanesque, slid into our culture without losing a beat, and seemed made for Italy.

Nonno ponders what I said for a moment, and I appreciate that he doesn’t act like I’m crazy or overcomplicating a simple situation. The elevator opens on the ground floor, and Nonno presses the button for the eighth floor.

“At your birthday party, Lexi and I talked about your father and how much I miss him. She made a remark I’ve been pondering over ever since. Something that might change everything.”

I’m not sure what this has to do with Lexington and me, but Nonno always has a point. “What did she say?”

“She said maybe my son is waiting for me to come get him. That if she had any family left, she would chase them down to the ends of the earth.”

We stare at each other until the doors open to the Gallos’ reception area. Mr. Gallo is standing in front of the semicircle of applicants, delivering the news.

“...proud to announce the job goes to Russo Family Construction, Restoration, and Interior Design.”

I just got exactly what I wanted. Or not.

Fifty-Five

Lexi

Ibucklemy airline seat belt, and it sounds so final I have to clench my fingers to stop them from shaking.

Next to me, Julie asks the flight attendant for an extra blanket, then shakes it out, tucking it over my shoulders. “Get cozy. Try to sleep.”

She’s coddling me, treating me like glass.

Which is ridiculous. I was in Rome and have known Mark for ten days. This is just like camp the summer I was fourteen, when I convinced myself I’d fallen in love with one of the other campers and then pined for weeks after we left for home. It’s good to know I’ve matured so much since then.

Well, at least I’ll recover within the month. I don’t even remember that camp kid’s name.

“Besides,” I say, like we were in the middle of a conversation. Julie nods. She knows how to jump in and out of my mental gymnastics. This is not her first Lexi Emotional Shutdown Rodeo. “Italy was about opening my mom’s letters. Finding the temple. Honoring her at the gallery and unveiling her painting, donating it to the city. Pulling off the festival.”

“And you accomplishedallof that.” Julie squeezes my arm over the blanket. “You should be proud. The festival was a raving success.”