Finding You Read online

  I’ll wait for you at the bar.

  It’s only 6 a.m. but I find him at the counter drinking coffee.

  “Good morning, Seba.” I say touching his shoulder. He turns and I notice impressive bags under his eyes. I don’t think my face looks much better than his!

  “So, did you enjoy the place?” he asks with an innocent smile. “Sweetie, an espresso for my friend, thanks!” The girl at the counter smiles at him before dedicating herself to the espresso machine. Sebastian can’t take his eyes off her ass. We both look as if we just got out of a dryer! Wrinkled clothes, unbuttoned shirts and ties in pockets.

  I drive Sebastian home and head toward Varese. When I come to the border, the official stops me and asks for the car’s documentation and my ID. I immediately find the car’s documents, but I left my passport at home. Damn it! I explain the problem to the policeman, but he doesn’t seem understanding. He won’t let me through without my passport. I turn back and call Sebastian.

  “James, there is nothing I can do. Is there someone who can bring your ID to you?”

  “Who? It’s easier to try to pass through a different border.”

  “It’s Sunday morning, James. You drive a Porsche Cayenne, have an American accent and if you add that this morning you look like someone who just snorted cocaine, it’s unrealistic that they wouldn’t stop you! Listen, you can spend Sunday night at my place. Perhaps on Monday morning with all the commuters driving through the border, it will be easier.”

  “Fuck!” I kick my car wheel. Who could bring me the documents? Of course… Harry!

  “Seba, I will let you know. Maybe there is someone who can help me. Thanks!”

  I look for her cell phone number and I dial it. After a few seconds she answers.

  “Hello?” Her voice is still fuzzy from sleep.

  “Good morning, Valentina. Did I wake you up?”

  “James? Are you ok?”

  That are you ok baffles me. It’s not the words, but her warm, worried tone. I feel a pang in my stomach. I don’t understand either her tone or my reaction. I don’t know what to answer.

  “I’ve never been better! I screwed a knock-out brunette all night long—” these words slip out of my mouth.

  “James!” She practically screams. She’s right. What the fuck was I thinking? Why did I hurt her this way? Wait! To hurt her? Why should she feel hurt? Now I understand. I am tired and not thinking straight.

  “Harrison, don’t make a big fuss about this! I have a terrible headache and need your help.” I add the magical word, “Please.”

  “Spencer, are you in trouble? Did the brunette’s boyfriend teach you a lesson?” She makes me laugh.

  “I’m sorry, Harrison, but I can’t give you that satisfaction! I am a ten minutes’ drive from Ponte Tresa’s border. I forgot my passport and I am trapped in the land of chocolate and clocks. I need some help.”

  “Give me one reason to help you.” She replies.

  “Because I am your boss!” I begin to feel impatient.

  “First, today is Sunday and we are not at the office. Second, I don’t think getting you out of trouble is part of my job description.”

  She isn’t wrong, but I try again more calmly. “You are right. It’s not your job, but I really don’t have anyone else to ask.”

  “Ok, James, I will help. Find a way to get the passport to your concierge. It will take some time before I can get there. I am not at home.” She was clearly sleeping, but she’s not at home. For Christ’s sake! Where can she be at this hour? I am an idiot. Why should I care about where my assistant spends her nights? “When I am twenty minutes away from the border, I will call you.” She adds before ending the conversation.

  I call Maria with instructions for my passport. While I am driving back to Sebastian, I keep wondering where Valentina could have spent the night.

  Chapter 11

  Valentina

  “But did you tell him that today is Sunday and you are with your family?” My sister is yelling, while I try to drink a cup of steaming coffee.

  “Marta, he’s my boss. I already had several arguments with him this week. What could I do?”

  “Tell him to go to hell.” She answers, drinking her fresh orange juice. Her copper hair contrasts with her lilac nightgown. Her eyes glisten when Simon enters the kitchen.

  “Love, give her a break!” My brother-in-law says, kissing her.

  I envy them. I envy their relationship. Marta is a strong character. She is bossy, but with him she becomes another person. They love each other deeply. I see the tenderness in her eyes. When he is around I can see her body relax. When she looks at him, her neck leans slightly forward like a graceful swan. And I see a lot of love in Simon’s eyes when he looks at her. I don’t envy her Simon. I only want someone who looks at me in the same way. Someone who loves me. When I observe them like I do now, I feel a great loneliness. I almost have to thank my boss and his sexual adventures in Switzerland. This gives me a good excuse to leave.

  “I made the tiramisu` for her.” She says to her husband, like a resentful child who didn’t get the toy she wanted. Discouraged she opens the fridge. “I want to give you some things to take home. At least you don’t have to cook tonight.”

  When she turns, Simon winks at me. I smile. I am lucky. Simon is like an older brother to me.

  After saying goodbye to Marta with a kiss, my brother-in-law and I leave.

  “I am so sorry to use you as a taxi driver. Thank you for driving me there. I am so distracted at the moment. I completely forgot about the yearly car inspection—”

  “No problem. But remember to do it next week.”

  “Marta is right. Maybe I should leave everything and go to mom or dad.” I shake my head. “It seems I don’t do anything right!”

  “Nonsense! You are an intelligent and independent woman. Marta speaks like this, but if you left, she would be lost.”

  “Sure!” I say with an unhappy laugh.

  Simon looks at me seriously. “Do you know how your sister spends her weeks? From Monday to Thursday she spends her time between the sofa and the kitchen. When I come home in the evening I always see sadness in her eyes. But on Friday she changes mood. You are coming! She starts to clean the house, goes shopping and spends a lot of time cooking special meals. Tina, the truth is your sister loves having you around. Her life lights up when you arrive.”

  I am without words. I don’t think he’s lying, but what he says is far from what I feel under my skin. “Excuse my frankness, Simon, but it’s hard to believe. She always criticizes me. About everything. She criticizes all my decisions, even the way I dress. I feel that my presence almost bothers her.”

  “You are more similar than you both know. Marta is convinced that sooner or later you will leave, like your parents left. She felt abandoned and you are what remains of her family. When you love someone, you want to see that person happy. When she tries to persuade you to leave, it’s because she hopes you may find the family she wasn’t able to give you. I am not saying this to make you feel bad, I only want you both to stop these misunderstandings and start talking again like sisters. Like a family. The family you both miss.”

  “I never looked at things from that perspective. I always thought that Marta’s family was you and I was just the hopeless sister she had to bear.”

  “Tina, your sister needs you deeply, especially at the moment.”

  I turn toward Simon. “In which sense?” My voice trembles.

  “For four years we have been trying to have a baby. Marta went through all possible fertility tests, hormones cycles, monitoring… Physically everything seems fine, but no positive results. Every month she goes through a crisis. At the beginning she was only disappointed, still hopeful. Now she cries for days. We are getting information on adoption.”

  “Why didn’t she talk to me about it?” My voice now is a whisper.

  “For the same reason you didn’t tell her right away when your relationship with Carlo en
ded. You love each other more than you want to admit. I think each of you doesn’t want her personal problems to be a burden upon the other.

  Now from this perspective, I begin to remember details that I thought unimportant. I see things in a new light. I lean back in my seat with a deep sigh.

  *

  I have just recovered James’s passport, but I continue to think of Marta. While we are driving away from the centre of Varese, I recognize a store and ask Simon to stop. I have an idea. Maybe it’s a stupid thing, but why not? After a few minutes I come out of the store smiling. I get back in the car. Simon is looking at me with curiosity.

  “This is for your wife! When we came to Varese with mom, we always stopped at this bakery to buy Capricci3. It’s their speciality. They are made with hazelnuts. Mom always used to make a joke about the name of the cookies and our tantrums.

  “I think it’s a beautiful idea.” Simon says.

  I think so too. I wrote a note to her that I put in the wrapper, ‘What do they remind you of, big sister?’

  At this point I take my cell and text James.

  Hi, I will be there in twenty minutes. Thank you in advance for the ride you will give me back home!

  I don’t want to ask Simon to drive me home. He would leave Marta alone for too long.

  After twenty minutes, beyond the Swiss border, I see him. He’s leaning against a black SUV. Of course! What other car should I have expected? Before getting out of the car I embrace and kiss my brother-in-law, thanking him for everything he told me. I promise him to do my best to improve things between my sister and me.

  And here he is, James Spencer, surrounded by a breathtaking landscape. The mountains plunge into the green water of Lake Lugano. Unfortunately for me the best view is still him. A shadow of a beard, messy blonde hair, unbuttoned white shirt. Charming as always. Familiar chills return. I don’t have the strength to stop them. Maybe I don’t want to. Even if I know these sensations won’t take me anywhere, at least they make me feel alive. On the contrary he doesn’t seem happy to see me. Not a smile, his gaze is very serious. He looks almost upset.

  “You are free to leave Switzerland!” I say, handing him his passport. Simon honks to say goodbye. I turn to wave at him. When I look at James again, his jaws are tightened. He doesn’t say a word and gets back in that black tank, his car. It will be a long journey.

  We have just passed the Swiss border and now we are in a traffic jam at the Italian boundary. Finally he decides to speak. “Damn it! If you had arrived earlier, we would have avoided this fucking traffic.”

  I am astonished at his rude and bitter tone. But this is the real Spencer. His grey eyes become the colour of lead. I feel the heaviness of his gaze. I don’t answer. I feel deflated and low. I hate to feel this way. I hate him for making me feel like a useless human being with that tone in his voice. No, this is not the truth. I can’t really hate him. I would like to hate him. But I only despise myself because I allow him to de-stabilize me so easily. All my self-confidence suddenly collapses.

  Finally our turn comes. At the check point they ask for our documents, then he screeches the wheels as he drives off.

  Something breaks inside me. I feel nausea. My heart races. I begin to sweat. I grab the door handle and look out of the window, trying to think of something else. Nothing. I feel it’s coming anyway. I recognize the signals, even after many years. It’s a panic attack. Why right now? Inside this car with this man at the wheel? My heart keeps racing, while I feel breathless. The only thing I want is to open this stupid door and get out. I squint my eyes in the effort, before screaming with the little oxygen remaining in my lungs: “Stop!”

  He speaks, but I don’t hear him. I understand he stopped the car. The motor is still running, but I jump out. I need to go, immediately. I must leave. I know this place. I know I have to leave the parking lot passing the entrance to the restaurant to reach the lake’s shore. Walking helps. I start to breathe normally, looking at the familiar landscape. But this calm doesn’t last. I hear James yelling, “Valentina!”

  I start to walk towards the lake faster. I am again breathless in the effort to put as much distance as possible between us. He keeps calling me. I don’t turn. I want to go far away from this man. Why? You know the answer, Tina. I stop, almost against my will. His strong hands are now grabbing my arms. My sight is blurry. Am I crying? Tears run down my cheeks. I try to dry them with my palms, but can’t stop crying. James forces me to turn. I stare at his lips. He’s speaking but I don’t catch his words. Only after looking at his expression, can I recover some control.

  “Tina, what’s going on?” His eyes aren’t the colour of lead any more. They are silver again. I hardly swallow. I take a deep breath. I stop crying. I’m regaining control of myself.

  “Sorry, James. I had…a panic attack. Forgive me. It has been a long time since I have experienced this again.”

  Without a word he frees my arms. I move towards a nearby bench and let myself collapse onto it.

  “In those moments I don’t know what happens to me. My mind goes blank and I lose control. My heart beat races, I can’t breathe and I feel like a mad woman.” I try to justify myself.

  He looks at me with some perplexity. “Do you know why it happened now?”

  “I have no idea. It happens. Just that.” Liar! You know perfectly well why it happened this time. I look down.

  “I thought maybe that guy had something to do with it—” Is he worrying about me? I look up. Now he avoids my eyes.

  “Simon? No— He is my sister’s husband. Actually, more than a brother-in-law, he is a brother to me.”

  He comes to sit beside me on the bench. I observe his profile. Suddenly I feel a sense of peace.

  “It’s so beautiful here! Where are we?” His words bring me back to reality.

  “We are on Lake Lugano in the province of Varese.”

  He is right. The view is splendid. I look at the lake front promenade before us.

  “Do you want to take a walk?” He is pointing toward a path lined with weeping willows. There are small wooden bridges, tiny beaches and a small church at the end.

  “Yes. I think I really need some fresh air.”

  3 Capricci: Capricci is the name of the cookies, but in Italian it means also tantrums.

  Chapter 12

  James

  Sometimes I don’t understand my own reactions. When I saw Harry kissing that guy in his car, I suddenly felt upset. Then she had that crisis! She trembled, she couldn’t breathe. She seemed so defenceless and fragile. When she jumped out of the car she dropped her glasses. She didn’t even realize. For the first time I noticed that her brown eyes have golden shades of green. Beautiful eyes. When calm and normality returned, we took a walk along the lake. We even had an idea for Burassi. After an hour I drove her home.

  Now I am in my apartment. I look around and don’t want to do anything. Perhaps jogging would be good for me. When I return, relaxed after my jog, I receive a call from Eva.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Jamie! How are you?” She moans.

  “Eva, what do you want? I thought you said you didn’t want to hear from me any more. Let me refresh your memory, you called me a bastard!”

  “Oh, stop it! You know that when I’m upset I call everybody a bastard. It doesn’t mean anything. I just wanted to know how your first weekend in Italy went. If my interest bothers you, I am sorry.” She has her sensual voice. Whoever spends tonight with her will have a great night!

  “I’m fine. Thank you! But now I have to go for a jog.” Better to be civilized with her. When I get back to New York I may want to see her again.

  “A jog? Don’t you have anything more exciting to do? Did you lose your charm? Even your assistant hasn’t fallen in your arms! You are disappointing me, honey.”

  “And how did you know?”

  “I have my sources!” She replies sharply.

  “Well. Next time my friend Matthew jumps into your panties, te
ll him to do his business, otherwise I will fire him! And just to be clear, honey, you are free to fuck whoever you want.”

  She is still cursing me, when I end that stupid conversation.

  I get out of the shower and while cleaning the vapour from the mirror, I observe my face. I see my father’s hair and my mother’s eyes. My mother. Since I am in Italy I think of her more often. I have the curious impression of being closer to her.

  The cell phone’s ring interrupts my thoughts. I hope it’s not Eva again. Thank god it’s Vic. He spoke with the owner of Redenge and roughly explained to him our situation. The good news is they are willing to hear our proposal. The bad news is that he set the meeting for Wednesday. I strongly objected to the date. We are not ready. But Vic insisted. It could be our only chance. I need to tell Harrison immediately. I have to tell her… Well, it’s Sunday evening. There is not much we can do about it. I should wait until tomorrow, but almost absentmindedly I have already pushed the call bottom on my cell phone. It’s ringing. I check the time. Thank god it’s only nine thirty.

  “Hello?” She answered with the same fuzzy voice of this morning. It seems to come from another planet.

  “Harrison, don’t tell me you were already sleeping!”

  “No, I was waiting for your call.” How can I fail to laugh at such a mischievous reply? “Did you go back to your brunette and forget your passport again?” Her tone now seems less playful, but I keep smiling and teasing her.

  “This time she’s blonde. Can you come to pick me up?”

  “Can you at least pretend to be in a different club?”

  I burst into laughter.

  “Clever girl! You understood I was joking. I am calling for another reason: business.”

  I told her about my conversation with Vic. I ask her to contact the creative team first thing in the morning. Tomorrow we need to all get together to organize our ideas and a decent media plan to present to Redenge. I wish her good night.

  “See you tomorrow. Good night, James.”