In an effort to wake himself up, David let the warm water stream down his face. He was due in the library that morning, but he was a little the worse for wear. It had actually been a lot of fun last night, people had been incredibly friendly. Thankfully, most had spoken English, but even the few who hadn’t had been nice about his Italian. Tully had stayed with him and had visibly relaxed as the evening had gone on. But they’d lost track of Marcus who’d last been seen smoking outside the gallery with the same girl who’d invited them.
Impressed that he was actually up, David wandered out into the living area of the apartment for his breakfast, which Nadia normally cooked for him. But to his surprise there were two women out here. Nadia was on her stool watching the overhead TV in the kitchen. She noticed him immediately and smiled. David walked over, ignoring the younger woman who was texting on her phone. As he passed her, David realised that it was the girl from the gallery and she was wearing the same black dress she’d worn last night.
“Good morning, David. Do you want coffee with your breakfast or tea?” Nadia asked as he reached the counter.
“Tea please, Nadia. Who’s our visitor?” he asked quietly.
The Italian matriarch smiled and whispered back, “A nice one and very polite. Speak to her, she won’t bite. ”
David glanced over, feeling shy. It was all right if he was talking to people at university about a subject he felt confident about, but talking to a pretty woman without the prop of alcohol was a different matter.
“Good morning,” he said in heavily accented Italian.
The girl looked up. “Oh, hi,” she said in a strong American accent. “You must be the English guy staying here.”
David flushed. “Is my Italian that bad then?”
She laughed. “No, but I can tell, and Marcus told me that you were staying here. Hi, I’m Naomi Jackson. Pleased to meet you.” She stood and held her hand out.
“David Lowe,” he responded, shaking it.
She grinned.” You were at the party last night. I saw you but didn’t have a chance to chat. Did you enjoy yourself?”
He nodded. “It was surprisingly good, though I’m no expert. But everyone was saying it was a success.”
“I’m just checking the reviews and people are saying nice things. So I think it went well. Do you work at the museum with Marcus?”
“No, well, yes, I’m doing my masters and earning my keep.”
“Well look, David, how do you fancy meeting up for a drink sometime?” David flushed, but the girl continued. “My dad’s American, but my mom’s from Rome, so every year I spend a few months here with my cousins. It would be great to meet up with someone who speaks English and doesn’t chatter at such a frenetic pace.”
“Well, I …” David was lost for words.
Naomi leant forward to look in her bag and her loose dark hair fell, revealing a mark on her neck like a love bite or a hickey as American teenagers called them. She’d worn her hair up last night and he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen it then. For a split second he considered telling her, but then decided that it would be wrong to draw attention to it and realised that maybe that was why her hair was loose.
She held out a card for him. “Call me, I’d love to chat. I have friends and family in the UK, so I know it quite well. Where are you from?”
“Shrewsbury,” he told her, not expecting the name to ring any bells.
“On the River Severn?” she asked. David nodded, dumbstruck. “My uncle lives close by. He’s a complete Anglophile. That’s so great, we have so much in common that we can talk about. You will call me, won’t you? It’ll be awesome to talk with a calm and sensible Englishman after these manic Italians.” She stood. “I’ve got to go. People to see and places to be, but first I have to do the walk of shame. Wish me luck.”
She picked up her bag and then her shoes, which she’d left by the sofa, and began to walk to the door of the apartment. She stopped and called over to Nadia, who smiled and gave a blessing, then the American girl let herself out of the apartment with an ease that indicated she wasn’t a stranger to the place.
David watched until the door was shut, then he wandered over to Nadia who was putting the finishing touches to his breakfast.
“You should meet her,” she said. “She’s a nice girl and she’ll introduce you to a lot of people.”
“But she’s with Marcus,” he protested.
Nadia handed him his plate. “They’re friends, nothing more.” And shuffled back to her stool to get a better view of the TV screen, which was showing the news.