Page 17 of I Think Olive You

The memory leaves me hot and aching, and I picture the strands of her ponytail wrapped around my hand as I pull?—

“It is what it is. We had no idea and it’s unfortunate. But if this is going to work, we need to keep it professional.” She is still talking. Fuck. Get it together. “No one can know what happened. Not. A. Soul.”

The words lash against me—almost desperate in their ardor—and I’m confused. I know why it’s a problem for me. This entanglement complicates my situation. But what’s causing an issue for her? Besides the fact that I was an asshole and skipped out on her. Is it to salvage her pride?

Giuliana must read the question on my face and she launches into an explanation—one I grip onto with both hands.

“I need this volunteer program to work. This season with you has to be a success, and that cannot happen if...” She trails off, looking at me—really looking—until she shakes her head as if to clear it of all traces of last night and starts pacing again. “It is unprofessional. If word comes out I was involved with one of the volunteers the program will be in the ground before it even starts.”

“The program?” I ask, unsure what she’s talking about.

“Training a volunteer and having them work the summer in exchange for room and board. We’re starting small until this can grow into volunteers, plural, helping with the harvest and learning the trade. It means nothing to you, I’m sure. But I’m trying to clean up the mess”— her voice cracks a little and she clears it before she continues, wiping away her tears before they can fall—“left behind after my father died earlier this year. The volunteer program is step one of my business plan. I understand if you don’t feel like you can carry on with this anymore, but I implore you. Don’t let this venture fail because we made a drunken mistake.” Her feet still again, this time she stares out at the grove, her hands gripping the top of her chair.

The words careen around my mind like rogue bullets until they find a target. “Drunken mistake” turns out to be it. The word echoes within—settling into the marrow of my bones and covering me like a cloak.

Yeah, that about fucking sums it up. Drunken Mistake. Heck of a title but you live up to it, don’t you?

In my hurt I can’t formulate anything to say, not when I’m in turmoil inside. Giuliana thinks I’m here as part of a pilot program to draw interest in the farm and drum up business? She’s under the misapprehension I’m here to be her savior. The irony sits on my throat, choking me.

The universe has handed me the opportunity to get exactly what I want.

Guilt stings what little conscience I have, because she’s still grieving and I’m about to rip the rug right out from under her. According to the bit I glimpsed of the contract, for me to get control of the farm she will have to fail. I have to prove her efforts futile and lacking.

In doing so I lose whatever chance I might have had with her as well. There’s no way to have both. Not unless she opens herself up to me now and gives me a reason to believe it could be possible. The truth has to come out, now. Her dismissal in the face of what we shared hurts and that aching side of me wants to raze the place down around us. The part yearning for more of her hangs suspended, testing.

“Drunken mistake?” I whisper, my brain unable to conjure up anything useful.

She turns to look at me, the regret on her face plain. I feel my hope curdle.

“Matteo, please. Be reasonable. I’ve taken out loans and put everything on the line to see this through. The farm is lost to me if I fail. This place is my whole life.” She gestures around her, unknowingly holding the grove in the palm of her hand from this vantage point.

“I cannot be distracted by casual sex. Will you still help me? I know it’s unfair to ask but it would mean a lot to me if you stayed and finished what you came here for.” Her eyes plead and I feel the nerves in my stomach—the ones that sprang to life at seeing her—hardening into a stone.

She inadvertently makes the choice between her and my mission for me. Handing me the keys to my success, she tells me in the same breath last night was nothing but a meaningless distraction.

Fucking brutal when the shoe is on the other foot, no?

My inner voice stokes the anger roiling within. Fine. I’ll finish what I came here for and I’ll give her what she wants. Distance. My father’s voice rings in my mind, a reminder this is business. Not pleasure.

And like that, I choose the coward’s path again, swallowing the truth that tastes like bile on my tongue. My plan forms. Under the guise of being her volunteer I’ll get to see firsthand how the business works and what kind of rough shape it’s in. When the time comes, I’ll take what’s mine.

“Fine. I’ll do as you ask.” The anger in my voice is palpable and her face shutters. The open woman from last night—so sure of her place—tucks her emotions away again as she nods at me. Is she pleased to have gotten what she wanted?

“I’ll show you the ropes tomorrow, and we can go over what the season will look like. Since you arrived earlier than expected, I haven’t carved out the time to do so today. For now, I’ll take you to your room.” There’s no waiting as she walks ahead of me—not looking back to see if I follow. I rush forward, climbing the steps scant feet from her body. If I reach out, I can touch her. If I touch her, I can pull her against my chest and prove last night was more than a mere distraction.

Rounding the corner, she opens a door. Giuliana’s careful not to enter, taking a step back when I come forward. Her hand grips the doorway as tightly as she clutched my back last night. I look down at her, at the smooth expression she has trained there. Her lips thin—the only sign of emotion, and she nods.

The luggage I’d strapped to the back of the Vespa has already been carried inside and placed beside a desk. A double bed is centered in the room and the covers are an inviting shade of blue. Light fills the room from the window and it lends a cheerful air—perfect for a volunteer to live and learn in.

Perfect for me to orchestrate her ruin, and my own truth be told.

I know what has to be done, but whether I can go through with it is a different story.

Hardening my resolve, I clamp down the hope that surged in my chest for the split second when I saw her again, and turn back to her.

Giuliana shuts the door, closing the channel between us and cuts off the part of me that wants more of her. The part of me that might have wanted to help and had some grand delusion of being a better man fizzles out into nothing.

No, she’s made it clear what’s most important to her, and for a moment… for one minute of insanity I almost forgot what I came for in the first place. If I fail at this the business and this grove will be lost to me. I can’t believe I nearly lost sight of what is most important. Abundantia will be mine. I’ll be sure of it.