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Diana’s heart darkened with sorrow. She realized that the correspondent was banking on bad news for the sake of more news. She hated that.
But as she and Ryan walked back to his apartment that afternoon, Ryan buzzed with adrenaline. Just as the correspondent had suggested, they stopped to call Ryan’s family back home, who assured him they’d record the six o’clock news and watch out for him. Ryan handed the pay phone over to Diana next, but she put the phone back in its cradle and shook her head.
“I don’t want to worry my family,” Diana said.
Ryan tilted his head with surprise. For a moment, Diana thought she’d done the wrong thing. Maybe Ryan didn’t respect her anymore.
But then he said, “It’s sweet of you to think about your family like that.” And he kissed her.
The following few weeks were a confusing blur. With Arturo in hiding—or worse—the restaurant now belonged to other, more sinister-looking people, none of whom Diana trusted. What could she do? Walk up to them and say, “Actually, my internship was supposed to go another six weeks?”
Ryan told her to enjoy the weeks she had left in Italy. Diana wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. She hadn’t had days off in years.
It took her a few days to loosen into her new schedule—or lack of one. She woke up when Ryan did and went to the market, helping him to purchase cheese, meat, and vegetables. Her Italian felt sharper every day, and she took pleasure in it. Ryan’s was getting marginally better, too.
“I can’t tell you how jealous I am of you,” Ryan said as they walked away from the market. “You’re brilliant with languages.”
Diana had never thought about it like that. “I’m just obsessive about things,” she said. “I don’t know if that’s the same thing.”
Diana spent most of her days exploring. She wandered through Rome with enormous, hungry eyes, taking stock of everything. Trying to memorize the historical details in each alleyway and monument, she wanted to make sense of a world that was so ancient and so modern at once. Although she had very little money, she spent as much as she could on snacks and meals, stuffing herself full, then walking until she got hungry again.
Every night, Diana helped Ryan clean up Sergio’s kitchen before grabbing a few glasses of wine and catching up. Diana shared little stories from her day while Ryan talked about the frantic nature of the restaurant. Diana sometimes burned with jealousy. She’d come to Rome to work in a kitchen—and now, she wasted her days in the sun.
Ryan told her not to think about it that way. But Diana was worried she was losing her edge.
On the first day of August, Diana found Ryan grinning madly in Sergio’s kitchen. He’d poured two glasses of wine for them, and they glinted beautifully in the kitchen light. When he kissed her, he seemed ravenous, like he was apt to gobble her up.
“What’s gotten into you?” Diana asked.
Ryan promised he’d explain as soon as they left Sergio’s kitchen. Diana thought she was going to die of expectation.
When they reached their favorite piazza that night, Ryan burst with the news. “I heard from that news broadcast channel,” he explained. “They loved our interview.”
Diana had forced the memory of that commercial from her mind. “Oh?”
Ryan beamed. “They like the way we look on-screen together.”
“That’s nice.” Diana furrowed her brow.
“I mean, they want to do more screen tests with us,” Ryan gushed. “They know we’re a couple, and they’re interested in filming us.”
“Doing what?”
Ryan sputtered with laughter. “Cooking, Diana. We’d be a cooking couple. We’d travel the world, from kitchen to kitchen, and show the entire world how skilled we are.”
Diana’s heart dropped into her stomach. She was speechless. It didn’t feel real.
“And you know what?” Ryan pointed out. “These people have cash. And they’re willing to spend it on us.”
“You’re lying,” Diana said, her hands spread across the table.
“Hand on my heart, it’s the truth,” Ryan said.
Diana couldn’t stop herself. She jumped forward and flung herself across Ryan, covering him with kisses. He laughed outrageously. All the Italian couples in the piazza turned and glared at the American couple—the one that had previously been so kind and considerate until now. What had gotten into them?
“We’ll travel the world?” Diana whispered as tears filled her eyes.
“Anywhere we want to go,” Ryan said. “But they want us to return to the city as soon as possible to talk about the next steps. I’m going to tell Sergio tomorrow. We’re done with Rome. But the rest of the world—and fame—awaits.”
