A Twist in My Story

“Non posso credere che la lasci scappare. Lei è una ragazza per carità.” (I can’t believe you let her escape. She’s a girl for heaven’s sake.)

Fabrizio and Vincenzo, who had been standing with their heads bent as their boss chastised them, glanced slightly at each other. “Ci dispiace, ma era veloce.” Fabrizio defended him and his brother. (Sorry, but she was fast.)

The older man in front of them sighed as he stood up and walked back around his giant mahogany desk. He sat down in his expensive leather swivel chair, leaning back as he propped his elbow on the arm rest, propping his head on his fist as he stared them down. Everyone in the room looked on anxiously, waiting to see what their boss would say to the two men that let Luciana get away from them. “Avete qualche idea di dove sia andata?” he asked in a steady tone. (Do you have any idea where she went?)

Fab and Vinny shook their heads in shame. He sighed once more. “Va bene, controlleremo tutti i paesi vicini alla Spagna. Giovanni e Antonio si va in Francia, voi due,” he looked pointedly at Fabrizio and Vincenzo, “vanno in Portogallo. Luka, si va in Germania. (Alright, we’ll check all the countries close to Spain. Giovanni and Antonio you go to France, you two, go to Portugal. Luka, you go to Germany.) All the men nodded in affirmation, knowing what their assignments were.

“Scusi, ma c’é un’altra cosa,” Vinny spoke up, glancing momentarily at his brother. (Sorry, but there’s something else.) Giuseppe raised his eyebrows, waiting to hear what else they had to say. “Lei non sta sola. Lei é in viaggio con un Americano...un raggazzo Americano.” (She’s not alone. She’s traveling with an American...an American boy.)

Giuseppe’s fist visibly clenched at the news, his ears turning red; a sure sign that he was not pleased with the news. “Cosa vuol dire lei è in viaggio con un ragazzo americano?! Chi è? Che cosa sta facendo con lui? Che aspetto ha?” his voice boomed. (What do you mean she’s traveling with an American boy?! Who is he? What is she doing with him? What does he look like?)

“Non lo sappiamo. Tutto che sappiamo é che essi vanno ovunque insieme,” Fab responded in place of his younger brother. (We don’t know. All we know is that they go everywhere together.)

“Lui é alto, marrone chiaro, ha i capelli corti e scuri, e occhi marroni. Abbiamo una foto,” Vinny continued, pulling out his phone to show him the picture. (He’s tall, tan, has short dark hair, and brown eyes. We have a picture.)

Giuseppe snatched up the phone and glared hard at the picture Vinny had taken of the American boy Luciana was traveling with. He didn’t like this, not one bit. They had to find her and fast. “Trovarla e portarla a me. E questa volta, non lasciarla scappare.” (Find her and bring her to me. And this time, don’t let her get away.) With that final statement, Giuseppe threw the phone on his desk and turned his back to the five men. Looking at one another, they silently exited his office (Vinny taking his phone) and started making travel arrangements, each one of them silently wondering who would find her.

*~*

Joe walked out of the bathroom of the hostel they had found in Paris and down the hall to the room he and Luciana shared. He found her sitting on the bed she had commandeered with the sketchpad he had given her. Her eyebrows were knit together in concentration as her pencil scraped delicately on the page. She looked up when he closed the door behind him. They had been in France for a week. After they escaped those guys that had been chasing her, they had ditched Spain and gone to France. Luciana had wanted to lie low, so they went to random small villages in southern France. Joe could tell she was shaken up by that chase. Even though she wouldn’t tell him more about who those men were or why they were chasing her, he knew that it was constantly on her mind. She had gone back to her habits of looking over her shoulders and constantly taking in her surroundings, except the habits were much more heightened now than before; even Joe couldn’t help but take in their surroundings too, just in case he saw men running towards them. But the thing that bothered him the most wasn’t that she had gone back to always checking her surroundings, but that she had gone back to being reserved. In the whole week they had been in France she had barely said more than a few words, presumably because her mind was stuck on how those men had found her. The most she had talked to him was when he asked if they could travel to Paris—she had been extremely hesitant and had let it slip that “they would be expecting her to go there”, but he didn’t back down. He was determined to visit Paris and had eventually won the heated argument, promising her they wouldn’t be there for more than a day. They had rolled in the previous night, taken lodge at a hostel (much to Luciana’s displeasure but she wasn’t going to take her chances at a luxury hotel) and would be leaving some time tonight.

“Hey,” Joe murmured as he walked over to his duffel bag and put his toiletries away.

“Hello,” Luciana mumbled, going back to her sketching, though she didn’t seem as focused as before now that he was back in the room. It killed him that she was turning in on herself—he had been starting to get used to her care-free side…and he missed it.

“Are you hungry?” Joe asked, hoping to get something out of her. Luciana merely shrugged. He released a sigh. “Well I’m hungry. Why don’t we go to brunch? My treat?” he suggested.

“Okay,” Luciana responded with another shrug, setting the pad and pencil aside and sliding off the bed. Joe stared at her for a second. He had honestly been expecting her to put up a fight, to refuse to have him pay for her, or to refuse to leave their bedroom, so he was shocked into silence when she easily agreed. “Are we going?” she questioned with a quirk of her eyebrows.

“Yea, yea, let me grab my things,” he responded, grabbing his wallet, their room key, and a folded map of the city. Stepping out into the comfortable late summer afternoon, Joe took a deep breath as Luciana did her customary checking of her surroundings. With a place already in mind, Joe set down the sidewalk. Luciana followed close at his side, giving him only one word responses to his questions about what she was in the mood for or what she wanted to do. He stopped trying to get her to open up and they walked in silence. After a while, they came upon a café on the Champs Élysées.

“Bonjour, bienvenue à L’avenue. Que voulez-vous prendre?” the waiter asked them after having been sitting for a minute or so. (Hello, welcome to L’avenue. What would you like to order?)

Joe smiled up at him and after realizing Luciana was lost in her own world, decided to order for them. “Oui, bonjour. Nous voudrais deux tasses de thé, deux croissants avec confiture de fraise sur le côté et deux ordres de crêpes au caramel, s’il vous plaît.” (Yes, hi. We would like two cups of tea, two croissants with strawberry jam on the side and two orders of caramel crepes, please.)

“Bien sûr monsieur,” the waiter responded, jotting down their order and taking their menus from them. (Of course sir).

After handing him the menus, Joe looked up to see Luciana looking at him with raised eyebrows, clearly shocked by the transaction. “What?” Joe asked.

“You speak fluent French?” she asked.

Joe nodded. Granted he had let her do all the ordering at eateries in France so far, but he had mentioned to her all the languages he spoke. “Yea. You shouldn’t be so surprised though, I already told you I did,” he reminded her with a gentle smile.

Luciana looked down as if embarrassed at having forgotten. “Right,” she murmured. “Thank you for ordering for me. How did you know I would want all those things?” she asked.

Joe gave her his infamous crooked grin. “We’ve been traveling together for a few weeks now. I’ve noticed tea is your drink of choice, you always have bread and jam for breakfast, and we’re in Paris, so crêpes are a must,” he responded with a wink.

Luciana tried to fight back her own smile, grateful that the waiter returned with their cups of tea at that instant. Reaching to the center of the table, she grabbed a packet of sugar and added it to her drink, blowing air across the top to cool the drink down some before taking a sip. Joe watched her silently, a part of him dying inside. It was killing him seeing her like this. He really couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take her silence or the faraway look that was glossing over her deep honey brown eyes. So when she went to reach for another packet of sugar, he reached out and took a hold of her hand, cradling it in both of his as he rubbed his thumbs over the back of her hand.

“Luciana, you are killing me here. I have to know who those guys in Spain were. Why were they chasing you? Are you in some sort of trouble? Whatever it is, just, please tell me. I’m really starting to get worried about you,” he stated gently, hoping she could see he was truly concerned about her.

Luciana was stunned by his close gesture, but more so by the genuine concern in his tone. Closing her eyes she took a deep calming breath and released it in a slow sigh. She really did not feel like getting into the gritty details of her past at the moment, but she also knew that it was unfair of her to continue keeping him in the dark the way she had. After all, he was traveling with her, meaning she had put his life in danger as well. She couldn’t very well continue to ignore his inquiries. Resigned, she opened her eyes and locked them with Joe’s warm, almost hazel eyes.

“They…they were just men of my past. Men I hoped to never see again,” she answered vaguely, staring off into space over Joe’s shoulder. Joe sat in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t say anything else, Joe nodded to himself before retreating in his seat, knowing he wouldn’t be getting anything else out of her. Luciana felt her face fall at the loss of contact, an inexplicable sadness overcoming her at his withdrawal. Luckily for her the waiter returned with their food, so she quickly covered up her disappointment. Like much of the previous week, Luciana and Joe ate in silence. Luciana’s mind was preoccupied with many things, and Joe’s was preoccupied by her. They took their time eating, neither one in a rush to move on to the next silence-filled activity. Joe finished eating before Luciana did, so he took the opportunity to people watch and take pictures of the Champs Élysées, enjoying his first time in Paris. When Luciana was finished, Joe paid their bill and they were off into the city.

“Uhm, I kind of wanted to visit the Louvre. Do you want to come?” Joe asked, not knowing if she was up for being out in the open and exploring the city.

Little did he know the Louvre was one of Luciana’s favorite places in all of Europe. She smiled timidly and nodded her head. “I would, in fact,” she responded. Joe tried not to show his surprise, but smiled at her, tucking her under his arms and turning them in the direction of the famous art museum. To her surprise (and pleasure) he kept her tucked at his side as they walked. When they got to the museum they walked side by side, enjoying the various pieces of artwork around them. Their love for all things artistic was one of the things they had in common and as they progressed through the various wings of the museum, Joe found that Luciana was talking more, sharing her honest opinions on the pieces. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, seeing how open she was once more.

They didn’t realize how long they had been at the museum, but when they finally departed, it was getting late. “So, where shall we eat dinner?” Luciana asked as they stood in the soft glow of the late sun.

“Actually, I was thinking of going to church. It’s been a while since I went to mass and I kind of wanted to see what a service is like here. I know they have evening masses,” Joe responded as he looked up from his watch. “I mean, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, obviously,” he quickly added, not wanting to seem as if he expected her to go everywhere he did.

“No, that would be nice actually. It’s Sunday, so it’s good for me to go. Mama wouldn’t like it if I missed mass too much,” she joked. Joe smiled at her quirk and at the thickness of her Italian accent when she said the word ‘mama’.

“Alright then, I’m sure we can find a church around here somewhere,” he stated, pulling out his map of the city. Finding the closest church, he folded it back up and pointed them in the right direction. The cathedral was magnificent. Joe marveled at it, snapping a quick picture before entering the building after Luciana. She swiftly made her way to an empty pew, removing the denim jacket she had been wearing all day before kneeling, blessing herself and starting in on her prayer. Joe slid into the pew next to her, but he was a little slow to begin his prayers—he was too distracted by the woman beside him. The thin spaghetti straps of her olive- green dress exposed numerous inches of her tan, olive-toned skin, something he hadn’t taken the time to notice until now. He also noticed how her dark hair hung in loose curls, creating a semi-curtain, blocking her face.

That is, until she looked up at him, having felt his eyes on her. She quirked her eyebrows at him, a silent question of what he was looking at. Shaking his thoughts back into place, he forced himself to stop ogling her and focus on praying.

The entire mass was in French, but it was still magnificent nonetheless. Both Joe and Luciana were glad they took the opportunity to attend. As they exited their pews at the end of the mass, Joe helped Luciana back into her denim jacket, his hands resting on her shoulders for a moment longer than they should have. “Ils sont un couple tré adorable,” they heard an old lady whisper to her husband as the older couple walked by them on their own way out of the church. (They are such an adorable couple).

Both Luciana and Joe blushed at the lady’s comment, Joe removing his hands from her shoulders. “Alright, well, I definitely think it’s time for dinner,” Joe mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact with Luciana.

“Definitely,” she agreed, allowing Joe to lead them out of the church.

“So, where shall we go?” he asked, turning to face Luciana, who was standing on the last step of the cathedral. She lifted her hand to her forehead, blocking the descending sun from her eyes so she could see Joe better. As she did so, she caught sight of a familiar figure standing just across the street. To any other person it would appear as if he was taking in all their wonderful surroundings, but she knew better—he was looking for her. And at that moment, they made eye contact. Her heart leapt in her throat when he took that first step towards them. She quickly grabbed Joe’s hand and tugged on it.

Joe had been paying careful attention to her face, so when he saw her eyes widen and her skin lose some color, he knew that she must have seen something, or someone, she wasn’t expecting. He didn’t even have time to look over his shoulder before her hand was already latched to his and tugging him in a different direction. But he was expecting it this time; he could sense she was going to run, so he held firmly to his spot. Luciana looked back at him, panic in her eyes as they silently pleaded with him. Her eyes quickly flashed behind him and he turned to see what she was looking at and saw another guy, bigger than the two from Spain, dodging traffic to get to them. Quickly turning back around he saw the pure terror in Luciana’s eyes, so he gave in and allowed her to pull him away.

She took off faster than the last time. Joe squeezed her hand tighter and ran just as fast as her, dodging angry French people and other tourists as Luciana led them somewhere she knew Tony would not find them. By the time they reached the Eiffel tower, both were panting for air. There were many people at the base, eager to see the city of lights from atop one of its tallest structures. Luciana and Joe both got in line, blending in with the rest of the crowd. Neither one of them said anything—Joe was still trying to catch his breath while Luciana leaned up on her tip toes, looking over Joe’s and the other people’s heads for the familiar face that had been chasing them. Not seeing him, she breathed a sigh of relief and allowed her heart-rate to return to normal.

“Is it safe to assume that if I ask who that was, you won’t tell me?” Joe asked once he finally got his breathing back to normal. Luciana merely nodded, moving with the rest of the crowd. Luckily they were close to the head of the line, so it didn’t take long for them to be on their way up. They decided to take the stairs up and after a few levels finally decided on one to stop at. Luciana walked over to the edge and looked down at the city. It had gotten considerably darker since they walked out of the church—the dark city was completely illuminated. She could feel Joe’s eyes boring into the side of her face and could just imagine all the questions running through his mind. “Luciana,” Joe started, confirming her suspicions. She turned to look at him, her back pressing against the rail behind her. Hesitantly, she looked up at him and saw the curiosity burning in his eyes. A man was trying to walk behind Joe, making him step closer to her to allow him to pass. She took in a sharp breath at their closeness, but it went unnoticed by Joe. He didn’t put any distance between them even after the man had walked past them. Instead he stood directly in front of her, looking down at her with a determined look on his face. “Who was that guy, Luciana?” he asked.

Luciana glanced down at her feet and bit her lip, hoping to evade the question but Joe wasn’t backing down. He reached out and tilted her chin so that she couldn’t avoid him. She released the breath she was holding and finally gave him an answer. “He was my oldest brother, Antonio.” Joe was still holding her gaze, so she saw the surprise that crossed across his face. She didn’t want to see any other reaction, so she gently tugged her chin out of his hold.

Joe couldn’t have been more shocked at her response. He had finally gotten an answer out of her but now he was even more curious to know more about her. Why did she have brothers that looked like thugs? Why were they chasing her? Why was she running from them? All his questions would have to go unanswered, however. He knew he couldn’t push for answers—it wasn’t really his place. After all, he’d only known her for a little under a month! Releasing a breath of his own, he looked out at the city, running his hand through his hair, feeling a bit frustrated.

Luciana looked up at him at his action. As she did, she saw another familiar figure, except this time it was her middle brother, Giovanni. His back was to her, but she was positive it was him. Her father must have them all out searching for her now. She momentarily wondered how many of them were in Paris, but that thought quickly flew out of her head when she noticed Gio was about to turn around and that when he did, he would have a clear view of her. There were too many people up here for her to escape. She was trapped. He was going to recognize her. Panic gripped at her. She looked around, hoping to find an escape route. When she didn’t, she did the first thing that came to mind—what everyone else was doing. Looking one last time at her brother’s rotating form; she reached up and grabbed Joe’s neck, pulling his face down until her lips were smashed against his and her face was successfully hidden.

Joe gasped at Luciana’s action. He hadn’t been looking at her, so she had literally ambushed him with the kiss. At first, both of them were shocked that they were kissing, but that feeling wore off. Neither was sure who started moving their lips first but it wasn’t long before they were sharing a sensual kiss. Joe felt his head fog over with the overpowering scent of the woman in his arms. His arms seemed to take on a mind of their own as they wound themselves around her waist, bringing her closer to him. Luciana gasped slightly, allowing him to take her bottom lip between his own. Her arms wound tighter around his neck and he sucked on her bottom lip. By the time they pulled away from each other, her lips were tingling. She pulled away slower than she probably should have but kept her eyes closed, quickly growing worried about what expression she would find on Joe’s face. When her eyes finally fluttered open the first thing that registered was the shimmering display of lights that the tower had burst into—the first display of the night. Her eyes then landed on Joe. He looked stunned, but in a pleasant way. That notion made a new feeling form in her gut.

She looked away, a mixture of emotions coursing through her—embarrassment, shock, an inkling of pleasure, worry. But when she looked over Joe’s shoulder and saw that there were no signs of Giovanni, one feeling took over, and that was relief. She was safe…for now. “We should probably get back,” she stated, not daring to look at Joe as she side-stepped him and took charge.

Joe stared after her, still stunned speechless. He stayed this way the entire walk back to the hostel. Luciana barely noticed—she was back to looking over her shoulder. When they made it to their room, the awkwardness definitely settled. “I don’t think we’re going to have time to eat dinner. We have to catch our train,” was all she said.

“Right,” Joe mumbled, starting to come out of the daze Luciana had put him in. That kiss had sparked emotions in him that he had subconsciously been fighting the last few weeks.

Luciana went to her bag and started packing the few things she had taken out in the one day they had been in Paris. She stopped and released a breath, turning to face Joe. “Joe.” He stopped his own packing and looked up at the wall—his back was to her but she knew he was listening. “I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t mean it. I saw my brother and panicked. I did it to hide my face,” she explained. She had set one condition for him at the beginning of their journey and that was that he could not fall in love with her. She had to remind him of that.

Her words definitely reminded him. Joe didn’t respond. He merely nodded and resumed his packing.