“Elisabetta!” Marco strode toward her in his black uniform, so handsome that other girls looked at him as he passed by.
“Buona sera!” Elisabetta called back, and her heart gave a little thump.
“You look stunning!” Marco reached her, drawing her to him and kissing her on both cheeks, closer than usual. She caught a whiff of a spicy cologne he must have put on.
“Thank you.”
“Isn’t this great?” Marco threw open his arms, as if Piazza Navona belonged to him. “I love it here.”
“Oh, it’s very exciting. I’ve never seen so many fur stoles.”
“How many were there?”
“Fourteen.”
Marco smiled. “You really counted?”
“Yes.”
Marco chuckled. “Let me show you Palazzo Braschi, then we can go to dinner.”
Marco took her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. They walked together to the palazzo, which looked elegant, its stone fa?ade a warm amber and its tall windows aglow from within. Uniformed guards with long guns flanked the graceful arch of the entrance, vaguely incongruous in this courtly setting.
“Can you imagine living here? A noble family did, but now it’s our headquarters. You’ll be amazed when you see inside.”
“Are you sure it’s okay, at this hour?”
“Don’t worry, you’re with me.” Marco saluted the two guards. “Giuseppe, Tino, meet Elisabetta. Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Certo,” the first guard answered, saluting back, and the second one said, “You’re a lucky man.”
“That, I know.” Marco swept Elisabetta past them into an impressive hall, with a lovely glass entrance and two more uniformed guards who saluted Marco, and he returned the greeting. “Gentlemen, meet my beautiful Elisabetta. You can look, but don’t touch.”
“Buona sera, Elisabetta!” said one guard, and the other gave Marco a playful shove.
Marco shoved him back. “Out of my way, I’m taking my girl to the top floor.”
“Ma dai!” The second guard snorted. “If you’re trying to impress her, take her to dinner, not the office.”
“Are you kidding, old man?” Marco shot back. “Your last date was in ancient Rome. You took her to the Coliseum!”
They all laughed, and Marco led her to a grand marble staircase. They ascended, and he pointed out the carved statuary on each landing, the fine detail of the marble molding, and the beautiful florets in the large dome ceiling, with its inky oculus onto the dark night.
“Isn’t this such a lovely place?”
“Yes, but are we allowed to go up?”
“I told you, yes, absolutely. The bosses have left for the day.” They reached the top floor, and Marco led her to a large anteroom on the right, where Elisabetta took in gleaming floors of parquet marble, painted friezes, and vaulted ceilings, though in her view, the Fascist flags and myriad photos of Mussolini detracted from its elegance. She had never been inside such a large villa, and she couldn’t imagine that the entire place had once belonged to a single family.
“Ciao, Marco!” A guard saluted from beside an office with a graceful arch as its entrance.
“Ciao, Benedetto. Please, meet the beautiful Elisabetta! I’m showing her Buonacorso’s office.”
The guard opened the door for them with a flourish. “Go right ahead, Commendatore Terrizzi!”
“Finally, the respect I deserve!” Marco chuckled, leading Elisabetta inside a large office with a massive desk of carved mahogany, flanked by the Italian flag. Oil landscapes in gilded frames lined the plaster walls between bronze sconces, and ornate murals of the countryside covered the coffered ceiling. On the far side were portraits of King Vittorio Emanuele III and Mussolini, hung between floor-to-ceiling doors with glass panes.
Elisabetta heard the door close behind them with a solid metallic sound. They were alone together. “Did you plan this?” she asked.
“Of course, I’m not an amateur.” His expression grew serious, and Elisabetta wondered if he was about to kiss her, but in the next minute he led her to the desk.
“You have to sit in my boss’s chair.” Marco pulled out the desk chair, which had shiny red leather cushions. “Here, sit and pretend you’re Commendatore Buonacorso.”
Elisabetta sat down at the glistening desk of polished wood, which was completely clear except for two telephones, a fancy enameled pen set, and a golden clock.