Maggie introduced themselves to the chauffeur and he smiled then touched the peak of his cap. His teeth sparked like wet ivory against his natural brown skin. Maggie thought he looked gorgeous.
“Ciao, my name is Roberto. I am Signor Rossi’s driver and I'm here to take you both to your hotel.” then taking the luggage trolley, hr wheeled it out to the wanting Alfa Romeo convertible.
“Bloody Hell! I’ve got to take a picture of that to send to Jan,” said Maggie as she fished in her bag for her cell.
Roberto loaded the cases in the boot and when Maggie had finished taking her photos, he opened the rear doors for them. Once everyone was strapped in, he placed his cap on the passenger seat and accelerated out of Amerigo Vespucci Airport for the half-hour journey to the hotel.
They both felt like a couple celebrities as they reclined on the back seat suitably wearing their sunglasses. Maggie briefly glanced over to Roberto, his short black hair shimmed in the breeze and she was singularly impressed that although being 30C, this man wore a suit, a white shirt and tie. If this was England no doubt by now every man, regardless of physique, would be bearing copious amount of unsightly white flesh.
Roberto looked into his rear-view mirror and smiled at her. Maggie quickly turned away. Caught, she thought. Then looking across to Richard, who was sleeping or just sun-bathing it was hard to tell with his sunglasses on, thought mustn’t get jealous. She didn’t what to blow any future hopes with him. She reminded herself, there were only here for a week. Play it cool and keep remembering Italian men are like the crown jewels nice to look at, but you can’t take them home.
After what seemed like no time at all they pulled up outside the Hotel Albani Firenze. Roberto blasted his horn and two porters came scurrying out of the hotel entrance swarming around the rear of the car eagerly waiting for Roberto to flip the lever.
The boot slower rose and before it was fully extended the cases were out and being carried into the hotel. Roberto then got out of the car and opened the door; extending his hand for Maggie to hold.
Maggie was unsure if it was the heat or holding Roberto’s hand but she was getting moist in a most awkward place. Roberto extended the same courtesy to Richard, although he felt slightly uncomfortable that Roberto held his hand longer than he did Maggie’s.
The last task Roberto had to perform, was to hand an envelope over to Maggie. It had the name, ‘ROSSI’ blind embossed in the top-left hand corner and directly beneath in gold-leaf was the word, ‘Bibliophile’.
Her name was written in the centre of the envelope, written in the most exquisite copperplate handwriting. Maggie looked at Roberto waiting for an explanation but all he did was smile, give the slightest of nods accompanied by, “Signorina, Signor” then he jumped back in the car and drove away.
With the mystery envelope still in her hand, Maggie and Richard were left standing outside. With the luggage inside it felt appropriate that they should follow. So, taking Maggie by her free hand, Richard escorted her up the steps and into the hotel.
Henri, the French speaking manager, was there eager to meet them with an enthusiastic and very un-Italian, “Bonjours! Welcome to Hotel Albani Firenze, please follow me.”
Henri was a short man and quick on his feet. He took off like a ferret down a rabbit hole and Maggie and Richard found themselves running after him. Finally catching up with him by the lift.
It was one of those old-fashion lifts with the lattice ironwork that got pulled across in a concertina style. Richard and Maggie followed him into lift and the manager pushed the button for the third floor.
The ride to the third floor was conducted in silence. Then once the floor had been reached the door was then pulled back to allow all three of them to leave. The manager escorted Richard and Maggie to two rooms either side of each other. He opened the door to Richards room where they could all see the porter hanging up Richards clothes. He just hoped the porter wouldn't find the ring and blow the whole surprise.
The porter finished unpacking, showed Richard where he had placed his things and bade him farewell. Richard stopped him, fetching out of his wallet some euros. Both the porter and the manager said that all gratitude’s where covered by Mr Ruud van Klerk, the curator from the Uffizi Gallery.
Henri then showed Maggie into her room where she noticed the dividing door.
“Signor Rossi knew you would like to be together so he has provided you with this suite. It gives you both your privacy as well as some intimacy.” explained the manager.
Henri then walked over to the large patio doors and threw them open allowing access to a wide balcony that stretched the width of both rooms. Outside on the balcony was a dressed bistro table with two chairs. A large parasol offered them some much needed shade.
Seeing that the two of them wished to be alone, Henri clapped his hands and a whole host of kitchen staff poured into the suite carrying a late lunch which they took onto the balcony. The wine waiter followed in the wake of the kitchen staff to serve Richard and Maggie a glass of dry white wine. Then as quickly as they all came, the hotel staff disappeared to leave Richard and Maggie in private.
Maggie thought the lunch was superb, it was a green salad in a matching pesto sauce, followed by a Margherita Rustica Pizza. If they wanted ice cream they only just had to phone reception.
Richard poured some more wine before they both raised their glasses to ‘Italia’.
During lunch, Maggie remembered the envelope Roberto gave her. Upon opening it she saw it was an invitation. It read:
To Signorina Harris and Signor Maple
You are condignly invited to dine with the Rossi family at 8pm.
A car will collect you at 7.30pm
Your humble servant
Giovanni Rossi
Richard gave a whistle, “Posh do, tonight Mags. Better put our best frocks on.”
“I’m so glad I went up West last Saturday with Janet. Could you imagine the humiliation if any woman there tonight spotted by ‘George’ label?”
Maggie looked at her watch. It was only half-past three in the afternoon so plenty of time to relax before going out. Maggie went back into her room to change out of Sophia jeans and put on a pair of shorts. Then taking her wine, she lay one the sun-lounger Richard had erected for them. He was already laid down, reading a guide book on Florence.
Maggie was exhausted. It had been a busy day so far and this evening could be a late night too. She closed her eyes and began to drift off to sleep. She woke abruptly when she heard Richard reading out loud.
“RICHARD! If you don't shut up I’m going to throw that book into the Arno. Now come over here and give me a kiss.”
With her eyes shut, she felt the gently touch of his lips press against hers. Maggie threw her arms around Richard pulling him closer to her. This is what she needed more than any glass of wine to relive her tension.
With a final kiss, she released her grip on him. Richard cupped the side of her face delicately stroking her cheek with his thumb.
“I love you. We are going to have a great time here.”
“Love you too. I’m loving it already.” Then Maggie closed her eyes once more and this time she did drift off to sleep to the sound of a passing lambretta.
YOU ARE READING
Artful Dream
RomanceMaggie Harris and Richard Maple are two thirtysomething antique dealers from London, who have been forced by financial problems, to join their two businesses. That was over a year ago and things are now on the up. Maggie is in love with Richard and...
