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Nicolo was speechless as he pulled out an old black and white photograph of their grandfather as a young man standing next to their grandmother. Their grandfather was in a suit, their grandmother was in a wedding dress, and they were standing in front of the Romano del Mare.
“That little vixen,” Nicolo said, pulling out the photograph and holding it up so that Leonardo could see. “She’s going right for the jugular.”
Leonardo leaned closer to the camera, causing his face to grow large and up close in Nicolo’s iPad screen. “Is that Nanno and Nanna?”
“Yeah,” Nicolo answered, but his attention had already shifted to the next picture. It was again a picture of Nanno and Nanna, but this time they were playing in the water in front of the resort and they had a young child with them. “Look at this one,” he said, holding it up for the camera.
Leonardo gave a low whistle. “Where did she get these?”
“No idea.” He pulled out another photo. In this one their grandfather was slightly older and so was their son. The son, Nicolo and Leonardo’s father, was dressed in his University gown. It looked as though he had just graduated.
There were more pictures after that. Some of them were of Nicolo’s family, but other pictures were of the resort and the many celebrations that had been held there. Nicolo studied a picture of a wedding and noted the generational families present. He was sure he saw children, parents, grandparents and even great grandparents, not to mention the countless cousins, uncles and aunts. People would have travelled far and wide to attend the event, bringing an influx of cash and opportunity to the locals. Now the Romano del Mare was gone, and in its absence was a void that had not been filled. Even with the resort he was staying at, he’d had to drive almost an hour to reach it. There was nothing to match the grand fineness of the Romano del Mare anywhere near the city. It had been an iconic resort for the region for decades before mismana
gement had taken it away.
“This place has been important to a lot of people,” he said to himself more than to Leonardo. He wondered at how many people had lost their jobs when the resort had closed its doors. He wondered at the economic hardship to the nearest towns that must have followed. On an island—any island—the chance to build a better life could be hard to find. For decades, the Romano del Mare had offered that chance, and it was a failing of the Romano family that the opportunities provided by the resort had been taken away. It was a knowledge that did not sit well with Nicolo.
“What are you going to do?” Leonardo asked.
“I’m going to think about the unthinkable,” he said before taking a deep breath. “And I’m going to stay… for a week, at least.”
4
Adeline
Adeline glanced at her watch. She had long ago made it a rule to never allow a prospective buyer to arrive at a site before her. And even though she had no desire to see this particular property sell, she still made a point of being on location before anyone else, as she hoped to derail Nicolo’s plans to destroy a building nearly a thousand years old.
Looming behind Adeline and to one side, the Romano del Mare resort was imposing even in its broken down condition. It was two stories high and swept the coastline of the small inlet bay that was shaped like a crescent moon. The building itself formed an enormous square and had a huge inner courtyard. Beneath the main building and the courtyard were an endless collection of nooks, storage rooms, and miles of catacombs that boasted an age even older than the above-ground building.
While the resort itself was practically a natural wonder, the resort’s dock was Adeline’s favorite place in the whole area. It was a wall made of rocks the size of a large man’s fist, held together with pale cement that matched the light color of the rocks. The wall rose ten feet above the water line, but as the land curved around, the man-made wall meshed into the natural landscape. From there, stairs cut into the stone of the earth followed the shape of the inlet down to the water’s edge.
It was the same on both sides of the long dock, and it allowed boats to load and unload passengers right at the resort’s hearth. In addition to that, a natural stone ledge extending out from one of the boat landings—bleached white by the sun and beaten smooth by the sea—was a perfect spot for sunbathing or swimming. As for the water, it was as blue and sparkled as brilliantly as a priceless sapphire. The water was crystal clear, and the loveliness of it all could mesmerize even the coldest of hearts.
The Romano del Mare complemented the land on which it stood. It didn’t try to compete with the natural beauty surrounding it, rather it did its best not to get in the way.
Putting her back to the sea, Adeline took in the large, now-empty resort. The client that Nicolo had arranged to meet with today had a reputation for bulldozing and rebuilding. She flinched at the thought of the Romano del Mare razed to the ground only to have a garish monstrosity built in its place. She’d seen pictures of Nicolo’s client’s other constructions. They were more about flash than substance. They didn’t understand the Sicilian culture, and anyone who stayed at any resort that they built here would miss out on all that being in Sicily was really about.
“I can’t stay to watch that,” Adeline said to herself. But then, she had no intentions of that. She had a plan. The buyer she had set up to view the resort owed her a favor. With his help, Adeline was going to convince Nicolo that he had a buyer willing to commit if some improvements to the property were made. In truth, though, her fake buyer was just that—fake. The sale would never happen. It was underhanded of her, but she knew that in the end Nicolo's investment in the property would pay off for him. He would come out financially ahead, and the Romano del Mare would live to see another century. It was a win-win.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Turning her back to the resort once more, she pulled it out of her pocket to check the incoming email she had just received. It was from Andalucia Real Estate, the Spanish real estate agency to which she had applied. Her application had been accepted and they were returning with an offer of a job. A salary bid was included. It was lower than anticipated, but that was to be expected. She would counter bid, aiming high, and then an agreement would be met somewhere in the middle.
She sighed heavily as she accepted that her future was to be in Spain. It was bittersweet, but the thought of new adventures brought a smile to her lips despite her sadness.
Typing in some search words, Adeline’s phone loaded with images of Spain. It wasn’t Sicily, she knew, but it was very charming. On top of that, she would be exposed to new foods, places, and people in addition to new excitement to satiate her need to do and see more than the everyday life she’d been living.
“Parasailing in Spain?” a warm tenor spoke next to Adeline’s ear, causing her to jump and send her cell phone tumbling. Nicolo’s quick hand snatched it out of mid-air before it could fall to the ground, then he handed it back to her. Turning, she found him smiling lazily back at her with the gaze of an early morning lover in his dreamy eyes.
“I didn’t hear you. You scared me.” Adeline said, her voice and body at first stiff with embarrassment at being caught so completely by surprise. Then, her shoulders relaxed and she allowed herself to smile, too, with her head titled slightly back so that she could look up into Nicolo’s face. He was standing close to her, as Sicilians often did, and she had to resist the urge to rest her palm on his solid and steady, muscular chest. She imagined the feel of his strength beneath her hand, and forced herself to focus instead on the fact that he wanted to tear down a building that had stood for nearly a thousand years.
“I am sorry,” Nicolo said, leaning in to kiss her right cheek and then her left. “I saw you standing here, looking as lovely as any day I’ve seen, and I could not resist the chance to look upon you before… how do you say? Before your guard was up.”
“Before my guard was up?” Adeline parroted him, her brows lifted in surprise and her smile growing.
“It is not your fault, bedda. You’re Americano. It’s your way.”
Adeline gasped, and her cheeks colored as her eyes sparked with ire. “I am not Americano!” she exclaimed in response to the implication that she was a Sicilian who had lost her roots.
“Bedda! Forgive me!” Nicolo bent low to kiss her hand. “I only meant that you are from America. I can hear it in your voice, no?”
