Summer in Sorrento by Melissa Hill

that he did n’ t hear Mai a’ s footsteps as she approached.
                  “ Hello ,” she said softly, announcing her presence. She certainly did n’ t want to shock anyone when they were standing that close to the side of a small mountain.  “ I did n’ t realise this place was that easy to find ,” she said with a smile.
                  Jacob turned around, finally realising he was no longer alone.
                  “ Oh, hey, I’ m sorry, I was just walking a bit and I stumbled upon this area.  A bit off the beaten path, yes?  I hope you do n’ t mind.  If you needed some time alone, I can go ,” he offered.
                  But Maia waved a dismissive hand.  “ Please, not a problem at all.  It will be nice to have some company here.  I have n’ t in some time . ”   She took a seat on the grass.  “ Care to join me?  Best seat in the house . ”   She patted the soft ground next to her, and Jacob dutifully sat.
                  The young man next to Maia sighed deeply as he got comfortable and cast his eyes out over the Neapolitan vista. The seashore was dotted with lights and low lying buildings filled the Napoli harbor.  The sky had not fully given up the setting sun, and off into the West, the last remnants of daylight headed toward Jaco b’ s New York.
                  “ It sure looks different - from the skyline of New York that is . ”
                  “ It is quite different yes ,” agreed Maia.
                  “ Have you been?  To New York that is ?” Jacob asked to which Maia offered an affirmative nod.
                  “ Twice, but not recently.  Once as a teenager and once with my husband, Jim, right after we were married.  I t’ s a great city.  I do n’ t suppose I could live there though.  I like the quiet this place offers.  I feel like I might be a fish out of water in a place like that ,” she smiled, turning her eyes to Jacob, who was now looking back at the city beneath them. He had a strong Italian profil e— like many of the men that she saw here each day.  There was no denying he was handsome, she could see why Camilla was attracted, but he was much more refined than most of the men she met. 
                  Probably because he was a full on New Yorker and had been his whole life.  But, she knew Italian passion that still drove through his veins.  His feelings toward his father were evidence of that.
                  “ Do you remember Sorrento at all ?” she asked.  “ I know you were very young when you left . ”
                  Jacob shrugged.  “ There are snippets, I guess.  Little memories. I do n’ t know if the y’ re real or if i t’ s something I saw in one of my mothe r’ s photo albums.  Honestly, probably one of my most clear memories is of going to Pompeii, probably right before we left for the U.S.  I remember thinking it was absolutely hilarious that there were pictures of naked people, now I realise in various sex positions, on the walls of one of the buildings.  It was a brothel that serviced the city ,” he laughed.  “ But I was just a little boy who thought it was funn y— these naked people painted on the walls, all twisted around each other. I did n’ t know what the purpose of the establishment, I guess you might say, was . ”   He laughed.  “ I t’ s weird the things you remember . ”
                  Maia nodded and smiled.  “ I deal with some of the same.  Little random thing s— especially when it comes to my husband.  Like the time that we got into an argument about something while sitting at the dinner tabl e— I ca n’ t even recall wha t— but during the whole thing, he had this piece of corn stuck on his cheek.  And I was so mad at him that I just let it sit there.  It honestly made me feel better.  I t’ s hard to argue with