Page 23

Cherry

When I wake in the morning, my face is soaking in a puddle of drool. My nose is still so stuffed up, I must have slept with my mouth hanging open. Delightful. Glancing to my right, I sigh with relief to find the bed next to me empty.

The last thing I need is for Nicky to see me like this. It’s bad enough he had to witness all the coughing and sneezing and general phlegm-iness.

Feeling better, but still a little dizzy, I sit up and reach for the note on the pillow next to me.

I’ll be back in the morning. With breakfast.

I giggle at the menacing tone he’s conveyed in just two sentences. It’s like he’s threatening me—when in reality I’m already counting down the minutes until he returns.

With or without breakfast.

“Shower first.”

On shaky legs, I head to the bathroom and wince in fright at my reflection in the mirror. My nose is red, my eyes are glassy, my skin has a greenish tinge to it, and don’t even get me started on my hair.

“Thank goodness I have time to fix this before seeing that man again.”

I have the time, but not the energy, it seems. After washing away the remnants of a night spent drooling and sweating, I can only muster the strength to pull my hair back into a single plait down my back and swipe on some tinted moisturiser.

Feeling breathless from this small amount of effort, I slip on my most comfy black leggings and an oversized team Vortex Motors sweatshirt.

I’ve just pulled up my fuzzy socks (the ones that remind me of being sick and at home on my parent’s couch) when Nicky knocks on my door. I know it’s him by the way he raps on the timber; like he’s impatient and willing to break the door down to get inside. To get to me.

“Hey.” I open the door with a strained smile. The last thirty minutes have wiped me out.

Maybe I do need to see a doctor?

He steps into the room, his hand immediately on my forehead. “You’re still warm,” he frowns. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit better?”

“Is that a question?”

I giggle. “Maybe? It ebbs and flows. I woke up feeling okay, and now…” I make a so-so gesture with my hands and sink back onto the bed.

He follows me, sitting beside me, and I lean into him for both warmth and comfort. I just can’t get my temperature right.

“Here, take these.” He pulls out a packet of pills from the front pocket of his black hoodie and hands it to me. Frowning, I look at the label. It’s written in Italian .

“I went to the pharmacy this morning, and they recommended these. And if these don’t help, you need to see a doctor.”

Sounds fair to me. I swallow two tablets with the water bottle he’s also handed me and look up at a knock on the door.

“I told you I’d be coming with breakfast.”

He opens the door and another table of food is wheeled into the room. This one is more packed than the one he ordered last night.

“I didn’t know what you’d feel like eating,” he explains as I stare at the table in silence.

“So you ordered one of everything?”

He shrugs and I look at the food again. I’d been kidding when I said that, but now, looking at the eggs, toast, pancakes, pastries and fresh fruit piled high in front of me, I think this is exactly what he did.

“Nicky!” I protest. “It’s too much.”

“We’ll share.”

“With the entire floor?”

He chuckles and gently pushes me into a chair at the small round table tucked into the corner of my room. “What do you feel like?”

I don’t have to think too hard for my answer. “You know what I really feel like?”

His eyebrows rise, alert like he’s ready to find whatever it is for me.

“Vegemite. I’m craving white bread toast with vegemite.”

Growing up in Australia, this was my staple food. Whether I was sick or hungover or just needed a little snack, there was nothing better than vegemite on toast. Since I’ve been travelling with Nicky’s team, I’ve kept a small tube in my suitcase and, as luck would have it, I ran out just last week .

As bad luck would have it; it seems.

“Give me a minute.”

Nicky pulls out his phone and paces around the room, his fingers flying over the screen as he types message after message.

“It’ll be here in ten minutes. Along with some more toasted white bread.”

My jaw is on the floor. “How? What? How?”

His grin is a little smug. “As you keep pointing out to me, Cherry, I’m a global superstar. And this has its perks sometimes.”

I try to imagine the poor person on the other end of those messages, frantically running around this small town of Imola, looking for vegemite.

“They’re going to think you’re a diva.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “There’s a first time for everything.”

My stomach does a full gymnastics routine, watching his face light up with laughter. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He pours me a cup of coffee and sits across from me. “Do you feel up to going for a walk after you eat?”

I really don’t think I have the energy for it. So…I lie. “Yes, I think some fresh air will be nice. If we’re careful to not be seen too close together, it should be fine. Right?”

The gossip sites have gotten nothing from us this weekend, purely because I’ve been too busy dying in my room to cause any trouble.

His head tilts and I know he’s checking out my blushing cheeks. “It should be fine. But are you sure you’re feeling up for it?”

I’m saved from lying again by another knock on the door. “My vegemite! ”

He answers the door and I watch him tip whoever is on the other side, before turning back to deliver me the jar and toast with a small bow.

“You’re my hero.” I applaud this display of gallantry.

“I aim to please.”

My whole body flushes, and I force myself to focus on the task at hand. Spread the vegemite on the toast, eat the toast, and try not to launch yourself at the man seated across from you.

Each one of these tasks seems insurmountable.

“No more, Nicky,” I groan after he tries to force-feed me another slice of toast. I’ve already eaten two; I can’t eat another bite.

“Fine,” he relents. “We’ll save the fruit for later.”

I finish my last sip of coffee and sit back to assess how I’m feeling. Pretty good.

Huh. Vegemite really does cure all.

“Let’s go out.”

His forehead wrinkles and even though he’d suggested we go for a walk, now he looks hesitant.

“Are you sure it won’t be too much?”

I ignore him, standing to put my sneakers on. “Nicky, this is my first time in Italy and all I’ve seen is the racetrack and the inside of this room. I want to go out.”

He looks torn, so I deploy my weapon. I smile at him, dimple and all. “Please?”

His eyes narrow as he stares at my cheeks. “I know what you’re doing.”

I go in for the kill and flutter my eyelashes at him. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” he grumbles.

I laugh and smother a cough. If he hears that, I’ll be room-bound for the rest of the day .

“Let’s go.”

He pulls a cap out of his backpack and jams it on his head.

“Is that your disguise?” I’ve noticed him do this when we’ve been out in public together. It’s like his Superman/Clark Kent disguise.

“Yes. After Miami, we need to be careful.” He completes the look by putting on his sunglasses, then he guides me into the lift to take us down to the lobby.

“Though, usually it’s not too bad here. The people are used to us taking over their town for one week every year.

And they’re always respectful of giving us our space.

Nevertheless, it’s easier to wear these things and keep away from the crowds. ”

I look over my shoulder as we make our way out of the hotel and see a few people pointing in our direction. My stomach clenches. They don’t appear to be taking our photo, but I hurry my steps to get away from them. “I get that.”

He glances around and takes my hand to guide me away from the hotel, pointing out landmarks as we walk along the uneven surface of the sidewalks.

“That’s the Imola Cathedral,” he says as we stop in front of an impressive-looking building.

It stands tall and majestic in the historic centre of the town and with the sun hitting it like it is now, the structure glows a deep burnt orange colour.

I can’t believe I didn’t bring my camera with me; my photographer’s eye is yearning to capture this light.

Staring up at it, I swallow a lump in my throat, a swell of emotion taking over me. Just five months ago I was moping on my couch, lamenting the end of my toxic relationship and now I’m here, getting to experience seeing things like this.

“Are you alright?” Nicky’s voice is deeper with concern .

I nod, squeezing his hand before dropping it. As much as I love his hand in mine, we need to be careful. “It’s just magnificent.”

“It is.” I feel the heat of his gaze on me and I don’t look over at him. Too scared if I do, I’ll get lost in the moment.

“It’s all so grand. So majestic.” I gesture to the towering clock tower in front of us. “And the people here just walk right by it, getting on with their days.”

He shrugs. “They must be accustomed to living next to it. They get used to its beauty.”

Huh. I wonder what that would be like? I peek up at him and wonder if I’ll get accustomed to his beauty.

Doesn’t seem likely.

“Do you want to walk down to the river?”

My legs are a bit wobbly and my chest is a little tight, but I don’t want to say no. I want to see as much of this gorgeous town as I can with him.

“Yes.”

The walk to the edge of the Santerno River leaves me breathless, and I sink onto the wooden bench next to Nicky with a grateful sigh.

“This has been too much for you, hasn’t it?” he asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

I shake my head. “It’s been just right.”

We sit in silence, staring at the river flowing in front of us, and after several minutes I shift closer to the warm man next to me. It’s either the cooler climate or my endless fever that’s chilling my skin and I’m eager to soak in some of his heat.

At least that’s the excuse I’m telling myself.