“You’ve been here before?” Derio asks as we stand outside of the building.
“You haven’t?” He gives me a look that says I should know he does most of his drinking at home.
Inside the bar, it’s delightfully cool and dark and a bit busier than the last time I was here. The tourists—particularly the day-trippers from the mainland—are flocking in droves to Capri each day. Shay is behind the bar pouring wine for a pair of fleshy, pale women with sun visors and nylon vests but it doesn’t take her long to spot me. She waves enthusiastically, indicating that she’ll be over in a minute.
“Do you know her?” he asks me as we sit down in a booth by the door.
“Yeah, her name’s Shay. She’s from New York. She and her boyfriend are like the only Americans on this island.”
He nods, perhaps considering for the first time that I might have a life outside of his villa. Although the term life is kind of stretching it.
Shay comes by, beaming at us. “Nice to see you here, Amber.” She looks at Derio and flashes her supermodel grin at him. “And you must be her boss.”
I groan inwardly, hoping she would avoid the B-word. Derio doesn’t seem to be too bothered by it. He sticks his hand out for her to shake. “The boss. I like that very much. Makes me seem Sicilian, part of the Mafia.”
“Even better,” Shay says, shaking his hand. A little flare of jealousy rises in my stomach but I swallow it down. It doesn’t help that I’m a sweaty mess and my hair is a rat’s nest at this point while she’s all smooth-limbed and glossy-maned. If I’m a lion, she’s definitely a panther.
“So what can I get you?” she asks. “It’s on me again, by the way.”
“No, no,” Derio says. “I’m buying the lady a drink.”
I snicker. “Thank you, but since when am I a lady?”
He looks me up and down with a discerning raise of his brow. “Even ladies can get messy once in a while.”
Shay has an impish look in her eyes as she looks back and forth between us. “So, what can I get you?”
“I’ll have a beer,” he says. He nods at me. “The messy lady can choose what she wants.”
“Better than tomato face,” I say under my breath. I give her a smile. “Glass of white wine please, whatever is coldest.”
“You got it,” she says.
“She seems very nice,” he says as he watches her go. I’m studying his face closely to see if he likes what he sees. It’s so hard to tell with him.
“She is very nice,” I say. “I’ve been meaning to hang out with her more but, you know, life duties and all.”
He licks his lips and it makes me want to do the same. “That would be my fault.”
“It’s not your fault Felisa left,” I tell him.
He doesn’t look convinced. He knows all the reasons, and most do involve him.
Luckily, Shay is fast and comes back with our drinks before we get too depressed over the circumstances. “What are you doing tonight?” she asks us, though I’m pretty sure she just means me. It’s not like Derio and I ever do anything together—well, other than today. And the little swimming trip to the lighthouse.
“Taking care of the kids,” I tell her.
“No,” Derio says. “You’re not. Have a night off; you deserve it. I’ll take care of them.”
I’m surprised at this. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “Yes. Please, you are young, you need to have fun.”
“You’re not too old yourself,” Shay says to him with swagger.
“That’s what I keep telling him,” I say.
Derio eyes me and then looks patiently at Shay. “Please, Amber would love to come with you and do whatever it is that you wish to do.”
“We’re just having a little party tonight, live band and everything,” she explains. She fishes a flyer out of her apron and puts it on the table. “It starts at eight. Anyway, see you there. Ciao!” She turns and runs back to the bar where a line has formed.
“I really don’t have to go to this,” I tell him.
“You are free to do what you want,” he says. “I can take care of Alfonso and Annabella. I probably should do that more anyway.”
“Do you think you’ll be more involved with them when you hire the new nanny?”
He looks at me sharply, like I’ve said the wrong thing. Maybe I have. “I am already as involved as I can be. I am their guardian.” There is an edge to his words.
That’s not what I meant, I think, but I nod anyway and gulp my wine. It’s so tempting to just finish it off and have another. All the white wines I’ve had in southern Italy so far have been so refreshing, it’s like drinking juice.
Derio sips his beer and sits back in his chair, his attention now on the bar. He taps his fingers on the table, seemingly agitated. Funny how fast he can switch between moods.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I tell him, hoping to coax an easygoing smile and some banter out of him. “I mean, on the motorbike ride. It was fun.”
His shoulders relax a bit. “You’re welcome. Anytime you want to go for a ride, you just tell me and I’ll take you.”
Of course, it has to be at a time when the twins are in school. God, it’s almost like dating a single dad. Except he’s not a dad. And I’m not dating him. So maybe it’s not like that at all.