Tony politely coughed into his hand.
“What is it?”
“Alex was here earlier.” Tony shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “But when he saw me, he just left without a word and—”
“Oh.” Joy’s shoulders drooped. “I understand.” His feelings were hurt, and that was something she had never intended. His kind, smiling face came to her mind as she walked toward the flower shop, wondering when she’d see him again.
“So what are your plans for the day?” Tony walked alongside her.
“Relaxation.” Joy smirked. “And no dancing. My feet are killing me.”
Tony laughed, then held open the door for her.
“What about you?” Joy asked.
“I think I’ll head out today.”
“To where?”
“Home. To New York.” He lowered his head.
“What? Why?”
He jerked toward her as if surprised by her reaction.
Joy set down her purse, surprised by her own reaction to his announcement.
Dina came from the back room. “Giorno, Joy.”
“Ciao, Dina.” Joy smiled, then yawned. “I’m exhausted.”
Dina laughed, then handed her a clipboard. “No clients expected today. Just deliveries. If you two have plans, feel free to . . .” She waved them out the door.
“Are you sure?” Joy flipped through the clipboard. “I feel badly for abandoning you yesterday. How did it go with the wedding customers?”
“Everything is fine. They ordered their flowers. No hassle. Go. Enjoy the beautiful day.” Dina smiled, but when she turned to Tony, her smile disappeared.
“Okay.” Joy turned to Tony. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure. Let’s head to the St. Regis.” Tony led her out the door by the small of her back.
The terrace of the hotel, bathed in the morning sun and shade of the pine trees, was filled with people deep in conversation seated at the small round tables. Waiters darted in and out of the adjacent restaurant, bringing trays of drinks and food.
“Have a seat here.” Tony held out a chair.
“Giorno,” their waiter said when he approached.
“I’ll have a glass of orange juice.” Joy nodded to him as she scooted her chair in. “What do you want, Tony?”
“Nothing for me.” Tony shook his head.
“What a view of the Grand Canal, huh?” Joy squinted in the sun. “I understand why people call this place the heart of Italy.”
The two sat in silence, admiring the view, listening to the water lap against the embankment and the occasional speedboat rush past with arriving tourists.
“So you’re leaving early, huh?” Joy sulked. “Why?”
“Why postpone the inevitable? I have to go home eventually. Find a new place to live and all that junk.” He rubbed his forehead.
“I can only imagine.” Joy studied his worried face. “I never had to deal with that. I never did thank you for giving me the house.”
“You made it a home, not me.” He chortled. “What would I do with that big house anyway?”
“You can always do that stuff later, house-hunting and all that. You’ll have time, and Jaime can help you find a place. You know that.”
“Can I get you something, sir?” the waiter asked as he set down Joy’s juice.
“Sure.” Tony ordered them croissants and berries, then faced Joy. “You’re really having fun at the flower shop, aren’t you?” A smile came to his lips.
“I am.” Joy sipped her juice. The sugar rush awakened her. “Well, when I’m there. I haven’t really worked there too much this week, but that’s okay. I think Dina and Vito felt sorry for me. You know, an older American woman in Venice alone, unsure of herself and her surroundings.”
“Do you still plan on working when you get home?”
“Great question. You know, I have always wanted to own my own flower shop in town.” A speedboat passed along the turquoise blue water, spraying a cool mist into the air. Joy rubbed her bare arms. “But it’s just a dream. Like my time in Venice . . .”
“Joy,” Tony said in a small voice, “I want to give you a gift. Don’t read anything into it. I noticed it the other day in a shop and want you to have it.”
