Page 8 of Better Than Gelato (Ciao Bella #1)

Chapter Four

C armen’s text message has more smoochy face emojis than actual words.

How was the big date?! I’m dying to hear all the details!!!

It’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m painting Isa toes while she sits perched on the coffee table.

“Don’t move,” I tell Isa. “They’re still wet.” The last thing I need is blue nail polish on the gorgeous red couch.

I reply to Carmen.

Amazing. Probably the best date I’ve ever been on. I’ll tell you more in person.

I’ll make it clear to Carmen and Valentina that Paolo and I are just friends. And see if Valentina might be interested.

I switch to Isa’s other foot and my phone chimes again. This time it’s Jake. He must have gotten my number from Carmen.

Ciao Juliet, it’s Jake. I just found out that tomorrow is a holiday, and I have the day off. I was planning on visiting Castello Sforzesco. Would you like to join me?

A castle! That could be fun. I remember Jake’s smile when he line danced on Wednesday night. Hmm, this could be really fun . I text him back.

Hey Jake! I would be delighted to join you! Where should I meet you and what time?

I debate deleting the second exclamation point, but decide it looks too formal without it.

Great! Does Duomo at 10:00 a.m. work for you?

I reply and let him know that works just fine. No exclamation points.

“Who are you texting?” Isa asks. Because of course my business is her business.

“Just a friend,” I say. “We’re going to explore a castle.”

“Oooooh,” Isa says. “Is it the boy you went out with last night? I knew that was a great outfit.”

“Um, no,” I say, and I feel my neck get warm. “This is a different guy.”

“Wow. The last nanny never went on dates,” she says. She thinks a minute. “Probably because she never let me choose her clothes.”

That night, Sofia teaches me how to make chicken marsala.

“Marco is the cook in the family,” Sofia says. “But he travels so much for work, I’ve had to learn a few meals.”

Isa doesn’t offer to help in any way, but she stays in the kitchen, and she doesn’t throw anything, so that’s nice.

We sit at the tiny kitchen table and dig into mushroom-filled heaven.

Sofia’s phone rings as we’re finishing, and she takes the call in her bedroom.

I savor my last delicious bite, then make a sink of hot soapy water and load the dishes in.

Isa is rearranging magnets on the fridge, and I toss her a dish towel.

“Here, you can dry,” I say.

“What? Why?” she responds, but I pretend I don’t hear her and hand her a clean wet plate.

“Just dry it off with the towel and put it back in the cupboard. That way, your mom won’t have to do it.”

Isa has the puzzled look of someone who has never considered doing something for her mom. I keep washing the dishes and stacking the clean wet ones on the counter in front of her. Eventually, she picks up a plate and starts to dry it.

“So,” I say. “If you could fly or be invisible, which would you choose?”

She puts the plate in the cupboard and starts on a glass. “Hmm. Could I choose when I got to be invisible?”

“Yes.”

“I choose that one,” she says.

“What would you do with that power?” I ask.

“Play pranks on people.”

I nod, unsurprised. I finish the dishes and start on the pots and pans. “Okay, if you could only eat one food every day for a month, what would it be?”

“Pizza,” she answers right away.

“Solid choice.”

By the time Sofia comes into the kitchen, we’ve answered three more questions and put away all the dishes.

“ Tesoro , Daddy is on the phone and wants to talk to you. Do you want to talk to him?”

Isa pretends she doesn’t hear her mom.

“He misses you so much, Topino . I know he’d love to talk to you.”

I pretend I’m not overhearing this conversation, which is comical because the kitchen is about eight square feet. I get a washcloth and wipe the table. I don’t look at Isa, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her look over at me.

“Okay,” she says with a martyred sigh. “I’ll talk to him.”

Sofia hands Isa the phone and leads her into the living room.

I head to my room and see a text from Maggie.

Great friends?! Are you kidding me?! I had such high hopes for Paolo! Well, I suppose you know best. But sheesh! What a letdown.

* * *

I show up twenty minutes early for my date with Jake.

We’re meeting at Piazza Duomo, and I’ve been dying to take some pictures of this place.

It’s an overcast day, which makes photographing much easier.

But still, it’s hard to capture the scale of everything.

I take shots of the main square, but you can’t tell it's the size of a football field. I do close-ups of some of the ornate stonework and statues on the cathedral itself, but I can’t manage to get the whole building.

I take a step back. Then another. Then another, and I bump into someone behind me. I shriek and jump a foot in the air.

“Hey, Juliet, it’s just me. Sorry.” Jake puts a hand on my arm and smiles.

“No, not your fault,” I say. “It’s me, I just lost track of…other people. When did you get here?”

“Few minutes ago,” he says. “I didn’t want to interrupt. It looked like you were in the zone.” He wipes his hands on his jeans, and I wonder if he gets sweaty hands too.

He holds out a white pastry bag. “I discovered this bakery by my apartment, and I can’t get enough of their croissants. I thought you might like one.”

Starting a date with a gift of food. That’s a solid move.

“Thank you,” I say, and take a bite. It’s warm and flaky and melts in my mouth. “Wow. I need the name of this bakery and their hours of operation please.”

Jake smiles at my enthusiasm and his dimples come out. I have the irrational impulse to touch one.

“That’s a serious camera you have there.” He points at the camera in my hand.

“Yeah, I’m having trouble capturing how awesome everything is. But also I can’t stop trying. It’s just so beautiful.”

“Well, if you like beautiful old buildings, you’re going to love this castle.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely. For a while, it was the largest castle in Europe. It’s more than 600 years old, but it’s in really good shape. The walls are twenty feet thick. And its turrets are almost completely intact.”

Jake’s eyes sparkle and his words come out faster.

This guy is kind of adorable.

The castle is a short walk from the Piazza Duomo, and even with Jake’s description, I'm blown away by how big it is.

It looks medieval, but so well preserved I imagine a whole royal family still living there, oblivious to the crazy city built up around them.

I leave the path and go right up to the castle wall and put my hands on the cold stone blocks.

It feels 600 years old. I can tell this is going to be one of my favorite places in Milan.

I take my camera out and adjust the settings. I take closeups of the fresh green ivy crawling up the old brown walls. I zoom out and get some shots of the turrets, with the Milan skyline barely visible in the background.

We go back to the path and stroll around the outside of the castle. There’s a silence between us, but it’s a nice one.

“Do you want to hear some great news?” Jake asks after a minute.

“Yes, I love good news.” I turn toward him, but he’s looking down at the path.

“Even if it’s a little bit braggy?” he asks.

“Especially if it's braggy,” I encourage.

“Okay. I’m heading back to the US in a few weeks to do med school interviews, and I found out last night I got an interview with Harvard.” He finally glances over to me, his smile both embarrassed and proud.

“Harvard?” I yell. “That’s amazing!” I give a smack on his shoulder.

“Thanks. I mean, it’s still a long shot. They only accept a small fraction of the people they interview.” He jams his hands in his pockets.

“Well, no reason you can’t be part of that fraction,” I say.

I try to sound casual, like a lot of my friends interview at Harvard, but they don’t. And despite Jake’s boy-next-door vibes, I can’t help but feel intimidated.

We make it to the entrance of the castle where a large sign blocks the door. Chiuso .

“It’s closed?” I say.

“Oh man,” Jake says. “Probably for the holiday. I should have thought of that. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say. “And I’m sure Harvard accepts people who make those kinds of mistakes all the time.”

Jake’s eyes go big. “Whoa. You really went there, huh?”

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” I smile. His eyes look legitimately worried, like Harvard might hear about this, and I laugh. “I’m just teasing, Jake.”

“Well, I’m sorry all the same. Can I buy you lunch to make up for it?” I hear what he’s really asking. Would you like to keep spending time together?

“Sure,” I say. “Do you mind if I take a couple more photos first?”

There’s a small pond snuggled next to the castle on one side lined by willow trees.

I can see part of the reflection in the pond, and I want to see more, but there’s a tree branch ruining the shot.

I try different angles, but I can’t quite get it.

I’m too low, and the branch blocking it is too big.

I’d have to wade out into the water to clear it, and it’s way too cold for that.

I look up at the branches above me. They look pretty sturdy.

“Hey Jake, could you do me a favor?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“It’s actually three favors. I need you to boost me up, hand me the camera, and then stand guard.”

Jake opens his mouth, pauses and closes it again. “Okay,” he finally says.