Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

The Truth Will Set You Free (Chapter 19)

It was a perfect night for a walk. A cloudless sky allowed the stars to shine in all their brilliance. Leading Piero along the pathways, laughter and teasing filled the air as they headed towards the pier.

"What are Gianluca and Ignazio up to tonight?" Marlow asked.

"They were going out with some of the recording crew," Piero replied.

"And you didn't want to join them?"

Piero smiled coyly, raising an eyebrow. "I wanted to find out what you were up to first. I've seen enough of those two. You are far more beautiful to look at than their ugly faces."

Marlow blushed. "Why, thank you. Do you think I should have invited them to come along too?"

"No," he answered a little too quickly, making her chuckle. Then added, "It has been an interesting day, hasn't it?"

"It has. Other than a few hours, we've spent the entire day together." Marlow scolded, shaking her finger playfully. "If you hadn't been so insistent that I study, we would have had time to go to Whistler and still make it back for your meeting."

"So, you're blaming me for our shortened afternoon?"

"Yes! It's one hundred percent your fault. I warned you that making me study would mess with our perfect day."

"That you did." Piero agreed. "Next time, I'll try harder to dissuade you from studying."

"Deal. Let's skip the math lessons altogether."

"Hopefully, thanks to me," Piero said, puffing up his chest, "you will never have to retake another math course."

"Fingers crossed. Let's hope."

Piero grinned. "Just remember, scribble out what you don't need, highlight the stuff you do and..."

His grin widened when Marlow repeated with him, "Just BREATH."

Listening as Piero spoke, Marlow watched for the little quirks she'd come to know—the quiet giggles that turned into belly laughs, the way he pursed his lips and stroked his beard when deep in thought, adjusting his glasses between two fingers before sharing his words of wisdom. Compared to Ignazio and Gianluca, he grew serious quicker—perhaps because he was the oldest of the three, or maybe he just wanted to know and not merely follow along.

Sitting on a vacant bench on the pier, Marlow let it slip that she was glad she hadn't turned down this work assignment.

"You weren't going to take it?" Piero asked, resting his arm across the back of the bench and around her shoulders.

"No. But I'm glad it worked out. Both our schedules lined up perfectly. Also, I'm certain Michele and Barbara were a little skeptical about me being your replacement driver. Hopefully, I've proven myself by now."

"I had no clue they didn't like you," Piero said.

"I don't think it was a matter of not liking me," Marlow explained. "I just didn't look old enough to be trusted with driving clients."

"True," Piero agreed. "I was surprised when you said you were twenty-four. You look like you're seventeen."

"I know. I get told that all the time. See, you're lucky," she teased. "With that scruff on your face, I think you look at least thirty."

"What?" Piero feigned offence, shaking his head.

Bursting into laughter, Marlow asked, "You probably have a baby face under the beard, huh?"

"Not so much anymore. Back when we first became successful, Barbara suggested we grow facial hair so we would be taken more seriously. Being Italian—" Piero deepened his voice— "twenty-four hours later, we were grown men."