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Alberto took in a deep breath and looked around the great room while giving small nods of h
is head. “I’ve seen all of the inspection reports,” he said in a booming voice that could have belonged to an announcer, and Nicolo imagined him having to make himself heard over loud machinery. “I’ve walked every inch of her space and have crawled over much of her on my hands and knees. With regard to the main building and not what's beneath her, I can do this job and do it right. The rest will need a medieval specialist.”
“Do you have a price in mind?” Nicolo asked, wary of what he was about to hear. He wasn’t sure what renovations Alberto had in mind. They didn’t need everything fixed, only the basics—those items that were issues of safety.
“One point eight,” Alberto announced with his broad chest puffed out. Next to him Adeline was beaming.
Nicolo repressed a cough, then leaned in as he asked, “One point eight what?”
Alberto’s expressive brow shot up halfway to his hairline. “One point eight million euro,” his voice boomed.
Nicolo did cough. “I’m not sure that our expectations are aligned,” he said in the most congenial fashion instead of blurting, “Hell no!”
Adeline waved her hands in the air as if to halt Nicolo before he could say anything else. “He’s quoting that price for doing everything that is in that binder.”
“Everything?”
“Everything,” Adeline assured.
“Just a moment,” Nicolo said, excusing himself from Alberto. “I need to confer with Adeline.”
Alberto waved them off, the whole of his attention already absorbed in the building within which he stood.
Taking Adeline by the hand, Nicolo led them down the nearest corridor and around the corner where they would be out of sight and most likely out of earshot.
“What exactly is he offering to do?” Nicolo asked as he started with the first page of the binder and began scanning down the list. It was written in small print, and the number of items listed on each page was extensive. “This list is everything that would be needed to get the Romano del Mare completely operational again, save for the staff, stock and the catacombs,” he said in amazement. He flipped to the back of the binder and looked at the final total of estimated cost. “Three point nine million euro. He’s offering to do it for almost half! There’s no way he could do it. He’ll do a terrible job and cut corners in dangerous ways. How could you even recommend him, Adeline?” He turned sharp eyes on her and was surprised to see that her shoulders were back and her head was held high with determination in her eyes. She wasn’t backing down at all.
“He’s offering to do it at cost!” she said, jabbing her finger at the notebook. “Those numbers are based on what a builder would traditionally charge.”
“At cost?” Nicolo exclaimed, not convinced. “How would he even pay his workers?”
“It’s a family business, four generations—his father, his uncle, him, three brothers, fourteen nieces and nephews, two sons, and eight grandsons and two granddaughters. One of the granddaughters is a master electrician and he”—she motioned to where they had left Alberto—“is a master plumber. His father is a master carpenter, and one of his cousins is a journeyman roofer who is scheduled to be considered for master status in another year. They have experience with buildings this old, and they can even do landscaping.”
Nicolo wasn’t sure what to say. “That’s a lot of mouths to feed. They have to make a living. What’s in this for them?”
“Recommend me and my family for all future maintenance of this resort,” Alberto’s voice boomed from all the way in the foyer.
Adeline tried to keep a straight face but giggles overtook her, and she buried her face in Nicolo’s chest.
Nicolo chuckled as he kissed her head. Then she lifted her face to him, and he kissed her mouth. “What have you done, t’amu?”
“Everything,” Adeline whispered against his lips as her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt.
“You are everything, t’amu,” Nicolo whispered back before losing himself in another kiss. Adeline had convinced him that the Romano del Mare had a future beyond demolition. Now he needed to convince his brothers of the same.
10
Adeline
Adeline stood at the bottom of the long, curving steps that led down to the water at the Romano del Mare, a huge camera hanging around her neck. She wore a white, cotton shirt that she’d left unbuttoned with a rose colored string bikini top underneath, and her tan roll-bottom shorts were perfect for showing off her legs. Next to her sat a huge tote stuffed full of all the various items she’d packed for her adventure-promised day.
“What are we doing here?” she asked.
“You said you wanted adventure.” Nicolo laughed from where he sat in the rear seat of a two-seater kayak. “It’s time to have one.” He was dressed in charcoal grey shorts that reached halfway down his muscled thighs, and his button-up, light blue, short sleeve cotton shirt stood open to expose his tan and toned chest.
“But here? I’ve been here,” Adeline complained, not at all convinced that whatever Nicolo had planned would measure up to the fun day of new experiences that he had promised. “And where am I going to put all my stuff?”
“Exactly, bedda! Stuff… it’s just stuff.” He pulled on a string that was attached to the back of the kayak and lifted a wet-bag out of the water. It was designed to keep items dry as the bag floated along behind the kayak. “This one is for you to fill.”
