Black Death And White Roses (1) Mafia Romance

6. Italian coffee

Roxana

"You did what!?" asks Kary astonished.

"I might have said yes to flying to Sicily... tomorrow," I say, raising my hands defensively.

Kary bursts out laughing.

"Oh boy. I don't even know where to start."

"I know. It's a really bad idea but I could not help it. Christian was there and so sad. I just wanted to help him and... here I am."

"Well, I think it's not such a bad thing after all. You might like it. It's warmer down there and it seems like a good project to put on your CV. But, Jesus, girl, it was the ideal opportunity to ask for a raise."

"I could barely bring a few words out. My brain was on overdrive. The only thing I could think of was how close he is."

"Oh yeah. I think this would have been really entertaining to watch. And now?"

"Now I have to pack. My flight is tomorrow. At least Damian was happy about it and he said the food in Sicily is great."

"Oh yes, it is. Also the sun, the sea, and girls. I remember, when I have been there with my family, I put on three kilos in two weeks. I will come to visit you. Hot Italian chicks, I am coming!"

I was playing brave in front of Kary but the truth is I am paralyzed with fear and performance anxiety. What if I am not good enough? What if I will fail? What if they fire me? Then I am screwed but there is no way back. So, land of pizza and espresso, here I come. I hope you will be kind to me.

The morrow caught me on the way to the airport. Christian was gallant enough to buy me a plane ticket. The Polish boys had to drive down there. They also had to carry heavy machinery and they didn't actually mind, but I get anxious when driving long distances. Obviously, because I got my driver's license and didn't practice ever since. That was with eighteen, meaning six years ago; almost a lifetime.

The coffee does not taste particularly good at the airport in Bern, but I gulp it down like water hoping it will make my exhaustion and nauseousness go away. Guess what, it does not help with either. If something, it makes the anxiety worse.

Once there, Damian will pick me up at the airport in Catania and we will drive together to the ominous villa of that guy. My eyes barely stay open while I try to read into the project concept on the plane. Since Peter was supposed to do it and I was banned from even getting close to it, I know nothing about the project, not even the location.

Somebody i supposed to pick us up in the center of Taormina and bring us to the place. How gallant, but a google location would have sufficed too.

"Rox! Hey! Hierher!/ Over here! " I hear Damian's deep voice.

Damian is really tall, probably close to one meter ninety-five, and looks Scandinavian with his blond hair and ice-blue eyes even if he is Polish. My own colors are similar; I have silver-blond hair and light-colored eyes. People often think we are siblings because of this even if he is big and muscular and I am quite small.

He gives me a fist bump when we finally find each other. 

It is windy outside. The air is warmer than in Bern, but still cold, probably around five degrees. It feels like spring in Italy even if it's the first February week.

We drive to Taormina and park the minivan, then walk to the meeting point in front of the fountain in the city square where we find the other Polish guys. They are twenty altogether, the core team.

We will need to hire some local contractors, but I will see to that later after I read something about it online because I never had to do this part before. It was always Peter, Christian, or somebody else, but now I feel the cold water I jumped into getting icy around me.