Читать книгу An American Girl in Italy: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance - Aubrie Dionne - Страница 13

Chapter Six

Vision in Red

Michelangelo pressed his finger to Carly’s velvety lips, wishing his lips were there instead. It was so sweet of her to apologize for her joke about the Coliseum. As though he was that sensitive? Bring it on, signorina. Having a name like Michelangelo warranted jokes far above and beyond a crumbly old stadium.

Carly stepped back and picked up her oboe case and her picnic basket. ‘I have to go.’

‘Of course. Wouldn’t want you to be late.’ He smiled, and an adorable blush rose in her cheeks.

Carly averted her eyes. ‘I’m already late.’ Without a backward glance, she hurried to the entrance.

Amusement brought a smile to his face as he watched her jog. Her blonde hair spread in a silken curtain behind her, glowing in the midday sun. Her skinny jeans brought out her long legs as she ran to the entrance. Everything she did was cute in a sexy way.

With a wistful sigh, he brought out his concert notes and memorized his first speech. Unfortunately, Carly wasn’t the only one that had to perform. She was the professional, whereas he was just a poser, a vineyard-worker in disguise. He’d have to rely on the charm his friends teased him about. Hopefully it was enough to get him through. Reciting the phrases in Italian, then English, he walked to the entrance.

The black-costumed orchestra contrasted with the cream stone, showing life and vitality where only ghosts roamed. Maestro Braun was a wise man to choose such a location for the start of their tour. Carly gave the tuning note, and the entire string section surged with sound. The high rafters reverberated the harmony in a gorgeous echo effect.

Already, audience members with blankets and folding chairs chose seats along the tourist walkway. They held water bottles and flipped through the program notes with interest. Hopefully no one there recognized him and wondered why the charming vineyard bachelor had suddenly changed careers.

Checking to make sure he’d tied his silver necktie straight, Michelangelo took his place at the mic. He started with Italian, then translated to English. ‘Greetings my fellow Italians. I have a special treat for you today. This wonderful orchestra visits us from Easthampton, Massachusetts. They’ve traveled a long way to play for us, and they have a wonderful program planned, starting with a well-known work by an Italian composer.’

The audience applauded, and Michelangelo did what he did best; smiled and looked good. His friends had always teased him about posing for wine commercials, but he’d only ever had eyes for working in the vineyard. Those grapevines were his home.

A home I will fight to keep.

Michelangelo introduced Ms. Maxhammer and Maestro Braun, showering them with every compliment he could think of.

The conductor walked on stage, and the orchestra stood in recognition. He clapped Michelangelo in a half-hug, and Michelangelo breathed with relief. He’d gotten through it without any real blunders. Taking a seat in the back next to the percussionists, Michelangelo searched the orchestra for Carly. If he tilted his head just right, he could see her profile as she brought her reed to her lips. As the music began, he listened for her every note.