Rome in Love Read online

  “Nothing.” Philip shook his head. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Philip ran quickly down the Spanish Steps and strode across the Piazza di Spagna. Suddenly the thought of leaving all this—the street vendors whistling at pretty women, the tourists taking pictures of the Vatican, the ancient churches and modern shops and cramped trattorias—made his head throb.

  He approached his apartment and saw a man standing on the sidewalk. He wore a white uniform with gold buttons. His dark hair was slicked back and his hands were jammed in his pockets.

  “Ernesto,” Philip called. “What are you doing here?”

  Ernesto nodded and reached into his pocket. “I have a delivery for you.”

  Philip took the letter and bounded up the steps. He ripped it open and scanned the page. He turned to Max and grinned.

  “Get out your white dinner jacket, we’re dining at La Pergola.”

  * * *

  Amelia stood in front of the closet and selected a floral dress with a wide belt. She slipped on white sandals and tied a yellow scarf around her head. She glanced in the mirror and added pink lip gloss and blush.

  She woke up full of energy. She spent the morning exploring the Pantheon and Capitoline Hill. She drank a frothy cappuccino in the Piazza Navona and bought a silk scarf on the Via del Corso. Now she took the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor.

  Sophie answered the door in a white cotton robe and yellow slippers. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail and her face was free of makeup. There were circles under her eyes and her cheeks were drawn.

  Amelia entered the suite and put her purse on the marble end table. The silk curtains were open and the room was bathed in sunlight. Amelia saw a silver tray with a bowl of muesli and sliced bananas and fresh scones. There was a pot of coffee and a pitcher of cream.

  “Room service brought breakfast but I’m not hungry.” Sophie shrugged, sitting cross-legged on the beige silk sofa.

  “It’s a gorgeous day,” Amelia said. “I thought we could take a picnic to the Borghese Gardens.”

  “I don’t have time to go to the Borghese Gardens.” Sophie sighed, pointing to the sketches spread out on the glass dining room table. “My lady-in-waiting sent the designs for my wedding dress; I have to choose my favorite. The wedding is in December and it takes six months to make the gown.”

  “They’re stunning.” Amelia picked up a sketch of a gown with an ivory bodice and a full satin skirt. It had a wide silk bow and a fifteen-foot lace train.

  “After the wedding it will hang in the museum next to my mother’s wedding dress.” Sophie bit her lip. “Her gown was made of sixteenth-century Belgium lace. She wore a diamond and ruby tiara and gold satin slippers.”

  “You look like you’re preparing for a funeral instead of a wedding.” Amelia gazed at Sophie’s pale cheeks and white lips.

  “Yesterday Theo and I went to the Caravaggio exhibit at the Corsini Gallery.” Sophie paced around the living room. “I had an asthma attack and by the time Theo found my inhaler I was hysterical. He found a quiet bench and told me a story.”

  “A story?” Amelia asked.

  “When I was a little girl I’d get asthma attacks in bed. It got so bad I was afraid to go to sleep,” Sophie continued. “My mother would sit at my bedside and tell me a story. Even if she had a dinner party or a ball she wouldn’t leave until I fell asleep.”

  “She sounds lovely.” Amelia smiled.

  “No one has ever told me a story since she died.” Sophie’s eyes grew wide and her lips trembled. “I listened to Theo and the strangest thing happened. Suddenly all I wanted was for him to kiss me.”

  “You were scared and Theo comforted you,” Amelia soothed. “It’s perfectly natural.”

  “There are a team of seamstresses waiting to sew my wedding dress and a kitchen staff planning the wedding breakfast and every rose grower in Lentz creating roses for my bouquet. I can’t think about kissing another man.”

  “You haven’t seen Prince Leopold since you were twelve,” Amelia mused. “Theo is kind and handsome and you have fun together. Would it be so terrible to have a summer romance?”

  “Morals aren’t something you can bend to suit your needs,” Sophie insisted. “I couldn’t stand at the altar knowing I’ve broken my vows before I recited them.”

  “What are you going to do?” Amelia asked.

  “Theo asked me to dinner tonight, I’m going to tell him I can’t see him again.” Sophie turned to Amelia. “I don’t want to be alone with him, you have to come with me.”

  “I’m having dinner with Philip,” Amelia blurted out. She had been too embarrassed to tell Sophie about the kiss.

  “With Philip?” Sophie raised her eyebrow.

  “Just as friends.” Amelia shrugged. “To thank him for being kind to me.”

  “That’s even better!” Sophie exclaimed. “I’ll tell Theo I got a second job and don’t have time to go to the orphanage or visit museums. We’ll have a lovely dinner and I won’t see him again.”

  Amelia gazed at the sketches of ivory wedding dresses with wide silk bows. She studied the drawings of lace veils and satin pumps. She had been worrying that having dinner with Philip was a mistake. She should have written a polite note saying she was too busy but thanking him for the invitation.

  “All right, I’ll tell Philip.” Amelia nodded.

  She pictured his dark eyes and narrow cheeks and thought she didn’t want to be alone with him either.

  chapter fifteen

  Amelia entered the restaurant and glanced around the wide space. She saw large windows and smooth wood floors. Glass tables were set with white ceramic plates and gleaming silverware.

  She realized if they ate at La Pergola someone would recognize her. She hastily sent Philip a note asking if her friends could join them and whether they could change the location. Theo was a struggling doctor and couldn’t afford a three-star Michelin restaurant.

  Philip wrote back suggesting Glass Hostaria in Trastevere and offered to pick her up. Amelia replied she would get a ride with Theo and Sophie and meet him there. Now she glanced at her floral dress and sandals and wondered if she was underdressed. She had expected a cramped trattoria but the room was all glittering glass and sleek edges.

  “Good evening, Miss Prentiss.” The maître d’ consulted his clipboard. “Your party hasn’t arrived, would you like a drink while you wait?”

  Amelia followed him to the bar and sat on a leather stool. “That sounds lovely, what would you suggest?”

  “A Kir Royal is perfect for a summer night.”

  “Thank you.” Amelia nodded. “I’ll have one of those.”

  “There you are,” Philip approached the bar. He wore a white dinner jacket and black slacks. “I’m sorry I’m late. Taxis don’t like to go to Trastevere on Friday night, they’d rather stay at the Piazza di Trevi and shuttle tourists to the Roman Forum.”

  Amelia took a sip of the sweet fizzy drink and her shoulders relaxed. She glanced at his crisp white shirt and black bow tie and giggled.

  “Aren’t you overdressed for Trastevere?” She smiled.

  “I told you I was going to show you I could be a gentleman.” Philip grinned. “Besides, I already got my dinner jacket pressed. I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

  Theo and Sophie arrived and everyone shook hands. Sophie wore a shimmering turquoise dress and silver sandals. Her hair was tied in a loose bun and secured with an ivory chopstick. She wore a delicate gold necklace and a diamond bracelet.

  “We almost couldn’t find a place to park,” she explained. “Theo is a magician, he could fit his car into a matchbox.”

  Amelia watched Sophie gaze at Theo and her heart turned over. She saw Theo pull out Sophie’s chair and offer her a baguette. She saw him consult the menu and suggest the tagliatelle with wild asparagus. She saw him fill Sophie’s wineglass and wait for her approval.

  “This place is lovely.” Amelia gazed at glass vases filled with white
tulips. She saw waiters carry platters of scallops and risotto and spring vegetables. She glanced at Philip and her heart hammered in her chest. She hadn’t dined with a man since Whit walked out of Il Gabriello.

  “I reviewed it for Gourmet magazine.” Philip ate a bite of bruschetta. “Not all restaurants in Rome have pizza ovens and checkered tablecloths.”

  “I love Italian food.” Sophie’s blue eyes sparkled. “Theo and I had lunch at Ciampini yesterday; it has the best view in Rome. I could sit for hours gazing at the Vatican and eating veal parmigiana and tiramisu.”

  “Sophie’s Italian is excellent.” Theo nodded. He wore a blue cotton shirt and pressed khakis. His blond hair was neatly brushed and his cheeks were smooth. “She can translate the whole menu.”

  “And what about you?” Philip addressed Amelia. “Does the Hassler feed you well?”

  Amelia was about to answer when she realized Philip thought she was a maid at the hotel. She blushed and gulped her drink. She looked at Philip and her eyes were huge. “The Hassler treats the staff very well, there is always ravioli and ice cream.”

  They talked about Theo’s years at Johns Hopkins and Philip’s time at Columbia. They discussed American football and Italian soccer. Amelia pushed green tortellini around her plate and let the waiter refresh her drink. She glanced at Philip and wished she was in the Villa Medici Suite. She wanted to be sitting on the balcony, reading her script and concentrating on Roman Holiday.

  “I think being a doctor is noble.” Philip ate smoked potatoes. “I get queasy at the sight of blood. In seventh grade, I let my lab partner dissect the frog and I wrote the report.”

  “The hardest part is getting the patient to trust you,” Theo replied. “If you don’t gain their trust, you can’t help them.”

  Amelia stood up to use the ladies’ room and her knees buckled and lights flashed before her eyes. She tried to remember how many times the waiter refilled her glass. She had barely eaten since she got sick and suddenly the lack of food and the sweet drink made her light-headed.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Philip asked. “Your cheeks are white as a plate.”

  Amelia covered her face with a menu. She turned to Philip and blushed.

  “I’m perfectly fine. All the desserts look wonderful. Should I try the passion fruit ice cream or the tapioca pudding?”

  Philip dabbed his mouth with a napkin. He looked at Amelia and his eyes were suddenly serious.

  “Trust me, the passion fruit ice cream is delicious.”

  * * *

  “It was a lovely dinner, thank you for letting us join you.” Sophie shook Philip’s hand. “We’ll give Ann a ride home.”

  “But it’s such a beautiful night, the moon is as big as a saucer,” Amelia declared. “Who wants to go for a walk?”

  They stood outside the restaurant inhaling the sweet night air. Amelia glanced up at the sky and saw stars twinkling against black velvet. She smelled pizza and garlic and felt light and happy.

  “I’ll walk with Ann, don’t worry.” Philip turned to Sophie. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

  “Are you sure?” Sophie hesitated.

  “Of course he’s sure.” Amelia waved her hand. “I can’t sit in a car on such a gorgeous night, I want to walk forever.

  “I love Trastevere,” Amelia exclaimed, skipping along the pavement.

  They strolled down the Viale di Trastevere to the Piazza de Santa Cecilia. They sat on the cobblestones and gazed at the stone basilica with its marble columns and stained glass windows.

  “I feel like I’m in the fifteenth century.” Amelia sighed. “Any minute Romeo and Juliet will appear and drink vials of poison.”

  “Your friend Sophie is very nice, they make a lovely couple,” Philip mused.

  Amelia turned to Philip and giggled. “Sophie is engaged, but she hasn’t seen her fiancé since she was twelve years old.”

  “What do you mean?” Philip frowned.

  “It’s a secret,” she whispered. “Sophie is really Princess Sophia de Grasse of Lentz.”

  “Is that so?” Philip asked, a smile flickering across his face.

  “She has ladies-in-waiting and a royal yacht in Portofino and a diamond and ruby tiara.” Amelia leaned close to Philip. “But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

  “Scout’s honor.” Philip crossed his chest. He smelled her floral perfume and asked, “Do you have any other secrets?”

  Amelia tried to think but suddenly the lights of the piazza flashed like a million fireflies.

  “Only one, I’m afraid of spiders.” She rested her head on his shoulder and fell asleep.

  chapter sixteen

  Amelia opened her eyes and groaned. She sat up and saw a tile floor covered by a red rug and a plain brown sofa. She saw a glass dining room table and wooden chairs. There was a tall bookshelf and a wooden desk littered with papers.

  She glanced at the narrow bed and pressed her hand against her head. She remembered insisting they go for a walk. She remembered the winding alleys of Trastevere and the wide dome of the Basilica de Santa Cecilia. She tried to remember how she ended up in Philip’s apartment but her mind was blank.

  The room was empty and Philip’s keys were missing. She could grab her purse and leave before he returned. She’d write a quick note apologizing for her behavior and saying she was leaving Rome.

  She walked into the bathroom and glanced at her creased floral dress. She smoothed her hair and tucked it behind her ears. She rubbed her lips and entered the living room.

  “There you are.” Philip smiled. He held a mesh shopping bag with a carton of orange juice and a basket of strawberries. “I thought you slipped out the fire escape.”

  “What happened?” Amelia moaned. She sat on a wooden chair and put her head in her hands.

  “At least your clothes didn’t get soaked.” Philip grinned. He poured tall glasses of orange juice and handed one to Amelia. “What were you drinking last night?”

  “Kir Royal.” Amelia sipped the orange juice. “The waiter recommended it.”

  “It’s great if you like crème de cassis and champagne.” Philip sliced bananas and strawberries. He added sugar and put the bowl on the table. “It can be a lethal combination.”

  “How could it get me drunk?” Amelia sighed. “It tasted like fizzy grape juice.”

  “Don’t worry, it was Friday night.” Philip sat opposite her. “Everyone gets a little tipsy.”

  Amelia remembered sitting next to Philip on the cobblestones and her heart hammered in her chest. “Did I say anything I shouldn’t?”

  “Like what?” Philip ate a spoonful of fruit salad.

  “I’m not sure,” Amelia hesitated. “Anything unusual.”

  “There was one thing,” Philip mused. “You said you were afraid of spiders.”

  Amelia felt the air escape her lungs. She ate large bites of fruit salad and finished her glass of orange juice. She put her spoon on her plate and smiled. “I insisted my friends join us and then I embarrassed you, I’m sorry.”

  “I like it when you’re drunk.” Philip sat back in his chair. “It’s the only time I see your shoulders relax.”

  “Sometimes life is complicated,” Amelia mumbled.

  “I imagine being a maid is stressful,” Philip agreed. “All those beds to make and towels to fold and silk robes to replace.”

  Amelia glanced at Philip’s dark eyes and angular nose. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t really a maid, she was an actress starring in Roman Holiday. She wanted to apologize for lying and ask if they could start again.

  “It can be stressful, but it pays well and the management is nice.” She stood up. “I have to go, I’ll be late.”

  “I’ll walk with you.” Philip followed her to the door.

  Amelia shook her head. “I’ve taken up too much of your time.”

  “Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” Philip suggested. “We’ll eat pizza carbonara and licorice gelato and drink ice cold
lemonade.”

  “I’m leaving Rome,” Amelia replied. “I’m going to Florence and Venice.”

  “But I thought you loved Rome.” Philip frowned. “You like the food and the art and the architecture.”

  “Sometimes you have to leave behind things you like.” Amelia opened the door. “It’s important to try new places.”

  “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Philip asked. “The Hassler will be sorry to lose you.”

  Amelia hurried down the stairs. She stopped at the bottom and turned around. She saw Philip leaning against the railing and smiled.

  “I won’t forget it,” she called. “Rome has been lovely.”

  * * *

  Philip entered his apartment and glanced at the half-empty bowl of fruit and glass of orange juice. He sat on the rumpled bed and saw a tube of lipstick on the floor. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

  He walked to the desk and flipped open his computer. He typed “Princess Sophia of Lentz” into the search engine and pressed enter. He scrolled down and saw a grainy photo of a man in a royal blue and white uniform wearing a gold crown. His arms were around a young girl with white-blond hair and blue eyes. She wore a satin dress and had a diamond tiara in her hair.

  Philip drummed his fingers on the desk and shut the computer. He grabbed his wallet and hurried down the stairs.

  * * *

  “Here you are, I’ve been looking for you all over Rome.” Philip entered the shop and glanced around the small space. Glass cases were filled with dark chocolate truffles and mini éclairs. There were trays of profiteroles and fruit tarts and vanilla custards. The center of the room had a round marble table piled with silver boxes and velvet bows.

  “What do you think Lara would like?” Max looked up from a selection of mini cheesecakes and jam tarts. “A box of éclairs or some of these crostate—the hazelnut filling is delicious.”

  “Cioccolateria is the most expensive chocolate store in Rome.” Philip frowned.

  “I have one chance to make a good impression.” Max handed a box of opera cakes to the salesgirl. “I miss the countess. Her pastry chef made the finest cannoli with fresh ricotta and pistachio. We both recognized his genius.”