I woke the next morning to the sound of knocking at my bedroom door.

Opening my eyes, I saw Arabella peek her head inside.

"Breakfast is ready."

Rolling over, I looked at the clock and noticed how late in the morning it was. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes before grabbing a sweatshirt and following her downstairs.

The smell of coffee filled my nose and my mouth began to water at the sweet aroma.

As we entered the kitchen, I saw my aunt sitting at the counter reading a newspaper. She looked up and smiled at us.

"Buongiorno!"

I laughed.

"Good morning."

She stood up from her seat and made Arabella and I cappuccinos while we stood in the kitchen talking.

I thanked her as she handed me the warm cup of coffee.

It didn't take long for me to wake up fully as we sat down and talked over a breakfast of fruit, bread and coffee.

"Your father has already gone to work for the day, but he said you didn't have to come in," Aunt Sheliana informed Arabella. "You should show Amelia around."

Arabella leaned back in her seat to stare out the window.

"The weather is much prettier today," she noted, seeing the sunshine. "Want to finish eating and head out?"

I nodded. "Sounds good to me."

We finished our food and coffee before we went upstairs to change. I put on a loose-fitting, thin-strapped silk tank top and a pair of linen pants that were cropped at the ankles. On my feet were brown, slide-on sandals that I wasn't sure were fitting to walk around in all day, but I wore them anyway.

I grabbed my bag which held my sunglasses, cell phone, camera, and wallet as I walked out the bedroom door to meet Arabella in the hallway.

"Ready?" she asked.

I nodded excitedly.

Saying goodbye to her mother, we walked outside to her red convertible.

The warm sunshine shone upon us and a cool breeze blew my hair in my face as we drove. The vineyards and farmland drifted by us and were soon replaced by the bustling city of Rome.

Arabella parked in an alleyway amongst a host of other cars and she filled the meter up for a few hours.

"We should be able to do a lot on foot from here," she informed me. "Most everything worth seeing is all clumped together."

As we stepped out onto the busy street, my eyes were immediately drawn to the enormous Colosseum.

"Let's start there," I suggested.

We walked across the street and into the crowds of people taking pictures in front of the ancient landmark.

I snapped away with my camera as Arabella chatted with a few of her old school friends that we ran into.

After we finished there, we walked to the Temple of Venus and Rome and then to the Roman Forum.

Because we toured around all day, we had only stopped to snack a few times and my stomach was growling as the sun began to set.

Arabella decided to show me to a nice restaurant that her family always visited for dinner.

Walking up to it, it didn't look like much from the outside. With its caramel-colored stone walls that were semi-coated in ivy and the black iron chairs and tables that sat outside, it looked as one would imagine an Italian restaurant to look.

We booked our seats and were shown to a table outside because the inside dining area was already full.

Since I knew little to no Italian, I let Arabella order my food for me.

The waiter asked her a question and she turned to me.

"Wine?" She asked.

I shook my head.

"No, thanks. I'm good with water."

She shrugged and turned back to the waiter and resumed speaking in Italian.

He nodded and jotted her orders down on his notepad before turning to walk back inside the restaurant.

"Is there a bathroom in there?" I asked her.

Arabella nodded.

"Inside, to the right."

I nodded and stood up to walk inside.

The inside of the restaurant was a stark contrast to the outside. Ivory tables covered by crisp white tablecloths littered about the room, accompanied by chairs that had velvet seats. Adding to the luxurious look, large crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings.

It was no wonder they were so busy, it was the nicest restaurant in town.

Following Arabella's instructions, I found the bathroom easily.

As I walked back out into the seating area, a flash caught my eye.

I turned to investigate and realized it was a camera flash, but not just one, there were multiple.

Whoever it was that the paparazzi were following walked into the restaurant with two Goliath-like men in tow.

One of the bodyguards parted ways with his companion to walk up to the reservation booth. As he did so, I caught a glimpse of who he was with.

I made eye contact with Alex Vincenzo as soon as I realized it was him.

"Ms. Scott," he said upon seeing me. "I do hope you weren't going outside."

We both turned our attention to the flashing lights that were still visible through the large glass window.

I nodded slowly and he sighed.

"Well, Mordecai would be happy to escort you out," he said, gesturing to the other bodyguard who was with him.

"That's not necessary," I said.

Nevertheless, Alex nodded at Mordecai, who approached me and began to gesture for me to follow him.

I turned to thank Alex, but he had already diverted his attention to the waiter who was leading him to the back of the dining area.

Mordecai led me through the restaurant, into the kitchen and out into an alleyway. We walked out onto the street and I spotted my table where Arabella sat, occupied by her phone.

"Grazie," I said, turning to Mordecai.

He nodded and turned to go back down the alleyway and back into the restaurant through the side entrance.

I wondered briefly why Alex hadn't gone into the restaurant that way. It certainly would have generated less attention. But, maybe that was the point.

Arabella looked up at me as I took my seat.

"You are never going to believe who I just saw," she said, enthusiasm lacing her tone.

"Let me guess, Alex Vincenzo?"

Her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah... How did you know that?"

I nodded inside.

"I saw him inside when I was walking out of the bathroom. His bodyguard escorted me out the back because of all of the cameramen."

She wiggled her eyebows.

"Oo, Amelia. Maybe he believes you're something worth protecting," she suggested.

I laughed and she joined in.

"Seriously," she said as the waiter brought our drinks out. "What would you do if you found yourself a sexy Italian man on this trip?"

I scowled as I took a sip of my water.

"A man in my life is the last thing I need."

"But you've got a whole year before you go to law school. Why not have some fun until then?"

"I plan on it," I said nodding. "But, I plan on traveling to places I've never been and reading all the books that have been collecting dust on my shelves. I've also always wanted to learn another language and learn how to bake..."

Arabella sighed and I stopped talking.

"What?" I asked her.

She smiled.

"A man in your life would not prohibit any of those things."

"A man would be a distraction," I said pointedly.

She turned her head and began to laugh.

"And learning how to put frosting on a cake requires so much focus?"

I shook my head as I took another sip of my water.

"I don't need a man to get through the next few years of my life," I sighed.

Arabella just smiled.

"No, women don't need men for anything," she agreed. "But they're like dessert. They can make life so much sweeter if you let them. I don't know why you wouldn't want one."

I laughed at her simile.

"Didn't Cher say that?"

She nodded while looking at me seriously.

"May she be patronized as a saint."

As we laughed, the waiter brought our food out.

"This looks great," I commented.

I had a plate of homemade spinach ravioli and Arabella had pasta with Alfredo sauce and penne noodles.

Because neither one of us had four hours to spend eating dinner, we had decided to skip the traditional five courses that Italy's dining structure normally suggested and just ordered a primo meal with plans for gelato afterwards.

About halfway through our meal, I saw Mordecai exit the restaurant out of the corner of my eye.

Looking up, he caught my eye and began to walk over.

"Mr. Vincenzo would like a word with you," he said in broken English.

Arabella and I looked at each other before I looked back to Mordecai.

"Me?" I asked, pointing at myself incredulously.

He nodded.

I looked back to Arabella who had furrowed eyebrows, her confused expression mirroring my own.

"I guess I'll be back in a minute," I told her, standing from my chair.

She watched me walk away with Mordecai, taking a slow sip of her wine as she did so.

I rolled my eyes as she wiggled her eyebrows.

Following Mordecai back inside, I shivered at the stark contrast between the humid evening air outside and the cool, air conditioned dining space inside the restaurant.

Mordecai led me through the area, weaving between tables of men and women who looked like they pulled salaries that would compete with that of a Kardashian.

We walked towards the back of the restaurant where the tables became few and far between.

Mordecai led me up a short flight of stairs to a private area where Alex Vincenzo occupied the sole table in the room.

A waiter stood off to the side, patiently waiting for his next assignment.

Alex sat at the table, facing Mordecai and myself with his back against double doors that were open to reveal the sun setting on the city of Rome.

Mordecai gave the door a quick knock, pulling Alex's attention from the newspaper he held in his hands.

"Ms. Scott," he said, folding the newspaper and placing it to the side.

He stood to his feet as I walked into the room, Mordecai turning to leave as he did so.

Alex pulled out the chair opposite of his and I walked over to sit down. His piercing blue eyes watched me like a hawk as I did so.

He walked around the table to take a seat in his chair.

"Enjoying Rome?" He asked.

I nodded slowly, still trying to understand why I was sitting in front of him.

"Why are you here?" He asked me before taking a sip of his wine.

"I'm visiting family," I told him.

"No, I mean why are you here?"

My eyebrows furrowed.

"To eat... dinner?"

I knew I sounded like a complete fool, but I was more confused in that moment than a chameleon in a bag of Skittles.

"Are you sure you're not here because I am?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"I can assure you that's not the case. I was already inside whenever you arrived, remember?"

Alex nodded slowly, like he still didn't believe me.

"Is that all you needed?" I asked. "To make sure that I wasn't stalking you? If so, I have someone waiting for me and my food is getting cold..."

His gaze was scrutinizing.

"Who?"

"My cousin," I told him. "Arabella? The girl whose father you had dinner with last night..."

He hummed.

"Very well, you're dismissed."

Dismissed?

"Excuse me?" I asked, somewhat shocked.

"You can leave," he clarified, leaning forward.

Before I could say something equally as rude, a loud crash echoed throughout the room, coming from outside.

Alex turned to look out the doors behind him and stood up to walk over to see the commotion.

I followed him.

We went out on the balcony to see two vehicles that had collided with one another in the street, their drivers angrily yelling at each other in Italian.

Alex turned from the accident to see me standing there.

"You're still here?" He asked, feigning surprise.

I rolled my eyes and turned on my heel to leave.

"Ms. Scott," he said, stopping me.

I turned to look at him.

"Answer me one question before you go."

I raised an eyebrow.

"How old are you?" He asked.

Looking at him incredulously, I wondered whether a question so odd deserved an answer.

"Intrusive, I know," he said. "But I would like you to tell me."

"Twenty-two."

Upon hearing my answer, he wordlessly picked up his glass of wine from the table and turned to walk back out onto the balcony.

I shook my head in disbelief as I turned to leave the room.

Walking back out to Arabella, I told her what happened. I felt somewhat vindicated when she was as confused by the encounter as I was.

Finishing our meal, we called for the bill but the waiter informed us it had already been paid for.

"I wonder who it was," Arabella said, smiling.

I turned to look back up at the balcony, but Alex was nowhere to be seen.

"I think he might like you," Arabella offered, seeing where I had turned my attention.

I looked back to her.

"Why would you say that? Maybe he was just trying to be make up for being rude..."

She shrugged.

"Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to talk to you and that's why he asked you up to the room in the first place."

I shook my head.

"He's not my type."

"Excuses," she muttered.

We stood up to leave and I turned to look up at the balcony one last time, still torn about what I thought of Alex Vincenzo.

-

Waking up the next morning, I followed the aroma of coffee to the kitchen where Arabella and her parents were gathered around a small TV that sat on the countertop.

"Good morning," I said, pouring a cup of coffee.

I was shushed as they listened to the TV intently.

Raising my eyebrows, I walked over to see what they were so enamored by.

"What are you watching?"

Arabella turned and gasped when she saw me.

"Oh, it's you!" She exclaimed. "Look, you're on TV!"

My eyes widened as she pulled me into their huddle so that my face was only a foot away from the television screen.

Sure enough, a picture of Alex and I was being shown by a reporter.

Although I spoke no Italian myself, her suggestive tone and raised eyebrows meant something that was universally understood.

"Oh God," I said. "Are they actually suggesting that I went on a date with him?"

"Not just a date," Arabella said. "You're his flavor of the month."

My jaw dropped at the thought.

"How degrading..."

I inspected the picture closer and determined it was probably taken when Alex and I had stood on the balcony looking out at the accident.

"How did they manage to get a picture of that?" I asked incredulously. "We were both out there for a grand total of one minute."

"Paparazzi take their job seriously," Aunt Sheliana laughed. "There's no telling how much this news station probably paid for those pictures."

In that moment the phone rang and my uncle turned his attention from the TV to answer it.

"Pronto," he answered.

What he heard on the other line made his eyes widen. His attention turned to me as he placed the phone against his chest to mute his words.

"It's for you," he said.

I walked over to the phone, expecting it to be my mother.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Scott, I believe we have something to discuss."

I took a deep breath and turned to back to see the TV still running the story.

"Yes, Mr. Vincenzo. I believe we do."

- - -