everywhere?’
‘Yup. Caligula brought it to Rome, and it was moved here from Nero’s circus by the order of Pope Sixtus V,’ Rico told her. ‘Apparently, it took four months to move it across Rome, and the men who moved it had to do it in silence, on pain of death.’
‘Wow. That’s a bit harsh. I assume that’s another medieval thing, like the Mouth of Truth biting off the hands of liars?’
‘Roman history’s not
totally
gory,’ Rico said, laughing.
‘Gladiators, Nero, Caligula … I rest my case.’ She spread her hands, laughing back.
They walked back into the city, stopping every so often to look at the gorgeous cakes in the windows of the
pasticcieri
. There were lilacs and orange trees everywhere, and Ella loved every second of it.
As they crossed the Tiber Ella asked, ‘Can I take you to dinner tonight?’
She wanted to take him to dinner? That was a first. Normally, Rico did the asking. And normally, Rico did the paying. The only time someone else offered to treat him, there was usually an ulterior motive—an obvious one at that. Not being able to see a motive made him feel out of his depth, to the point where he was lost for words.
‘Sorry. Of course you’re probably busy. I assumed too much,’ she said when he was silent.
‘No, I’m not busy. And, yes, I’d like to have dinner with you.’
‘And it’s my bill,’ Ella said firmly.
That was what he didn’t get. He couldn’t help asking, ‘Why?’
‘You cooked for me, that first night. Obviously I can’t return the favour because I don’t have access to a kitchen here, so the best I can offer is buying you a meal in a restaurant.’ She smiled. ‘I would say let’s go to the swishest restaurant in Rome, but I’d guess you have to make a reservation months in advance, and anyway I don’t really have anything suitable to wear.’
‘Plus it would be incredibly expensive. Michelin stars and what have you don’t come cheap,’ he warned.
She shrugged. ‘The money doesn’t matter. Remember, I won all that money, and I’m under budget here anyway. I can afford it.’
Rico hid a smile. Ella might be planning a new career as a baker, but she still talked like an accountant.
‘And anyway, it’d be a treat for me as well,’ she added, as if trying to persuade him.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘I have a few connections.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Let’s have a coffee and I’ll make some phone calls.’
He gulped his lukewarm espresso down, as usual, and made a few calls. Luckily Ella’s Italian was nowhere near good enough to follow what he was saying. There was one particular restaurant he had in mind; the food was stunning, and there was always a huge waiting list to get a table. But it also happened to be owned by a very good friend of his, and if there was a chance he could call in a favour …
He was in luck. The
maître d’
also agreed to let him settle most of the bill beforehand and give Ella a much smaller bill at the end of the night, to Rico’s relief. No way was he letting her pay for a meal
that
costly, lottery win or no lottery win. And sorting this out beforehand meant that he was still in control. No surprises.
‘The good news is, I have a reservation for us at eight tonight,’ he said when he’d finished the call. ‘The bad news … Do you have a little black dress with you?’
She grimaced. ‘No.’
‘It might be an idea to buy one.’ Normally, he’d just go to the Via Condotti with his current girlfriend and let her loose in the designer shops with his credit card. But he had a feeling that Ella would refuse to let him buy her a dress and shoes. And if he explained that he could afford it—and could more than afford to take her out to one of the fanciest restaurants in Rome every night of the week—he had a feeling that she’d react badly. She’d told him at the park that she didn’t like lying or game-playing. Thoughhe wasn’t playing games—merely taking
‘Yup. Caligula brought it to Rome, and it was moved here from Nero’s circus by the order of Pope Sixtus V,’ Rico told her. ‘Apparently, it took four months to move it across Rome, and the men who moved it had to do it in silence, on pain of death.’
‘Wow. That’s a bit harsh. I assume that’s another medieval thing, like the Mouth of Truth biting off the hands of liars?’
‘Roman history’s not
totally
gory,’ Rico said, laughing.
‘Gladiators, Nero, Caligula … I rest my case.’ She spread her hands, laughing back.
They walked back into the city, stopping every so often to look at the gorgeous cakes in the windows of the
pasticcieri
. There were lilacs and orange trees everywhere, and Ella loved every second of it.
As they crossed the Tiber Ella asked, ‘Can I take you to dinner tonight?’
She wanted to take him to dinner? That was a first. Normally, Rico did the asking. And normally, Rico did the paying. The only time someone else offered to treat him, there was usually an ulterior motive—an obvious one at that. Not being able to see a motive made him feel out of his depth, to the point where he was lost for words.
‘Sorry. Of course you’re probably busy. I assumed too much,’ she said when he was silent.
‘No, I’m not busy. And, yes, I’d like to have dinner with you.’
‘And it’s my bill,’ Ella said firmly.
That was what he didn’t get. He couldn’t help asking, ‘Why?’
‘You cooked for me, that first night. Obviously I can’t return the favour because I don’t have access to a kitchen here, so the best I can offer is buying you a meal in a restaurant.’ She smiled. ‘I would say let’s go to the swishest restaurant in Rome, but I’d guess you have to make a reservation months in advance, and anyway I don’t really have anything suitable to wear.’
‘Plus it would be incredibly expensive. Michelin stars and what have you don’t come cheap,’ he warned.
She shrugged. ‘The money doesn’t matter. Remember, I won all that money, and I’m under budget here anyway. I can afford it.’
Rico hid a smile. Ella might be planning a new career as a baker, but she still talked like an accountant.
‘And anyway, it’d be a treat for me as well,’ she added, as if trying to persuade him.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘I have a few connections.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Let’s have a coffee and I’ll make some phone calls.’
He gulped his lukewarm espresso down, as usual, and made a few calls. Luckily Ella’s Italian was nowhere near good enough to follow what he was saying. There was one particular restaurant he had in mind; the food was stunning, and there was always a huge waiting list to get a table. But it also happened to be owned by a very good friend of his, and if there was a chance he could call in a favour …
He was in luck. The
maître d’
also agreed to let him settle most of the bill beforehand and give Ella a much smaller bill at the end of the night, to Rico’s relief. No way was he letting her pay for a meal
that
costly, lottery win or no lottery win. And sorting this out beforehand meant that he was still in control. No surprises.
‘The good news is, I have a reservation for us at eight tonight,’ he said when he’d finished the call. ‘The bad news … Do you have a little black dress with you?’
She grimaced. ‘No.’
‘It might be an idea to buy one.’ Normally, he’d just go to the Via Condotti with his current girlfriend and let her loose in the designer shops with his credit card. But he had a feeling that Ella would refuse to let him buy her a dress and shoes. And if he explained that he could afford it—and could more than afford to take her out to one of the fanciest restaurants in Rome every night of the week—he had a feeling that she’d react badly. She’d told him at the park that she didn’t like lying or game-playing. Thoughhe wasn’t playing games—merely taking
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