20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

" O nce more, you have to make sure to always send the employee monthly reviews to Signora Delvecchio in the Florence main office by the end of the month," Lowell explained with much more patience than I was probably entitled to. I'd been trying, honestly, I had, but this job was nothing but a massive slog of paperwork. Hand to the gods all I did was sit inside all day with Lowell and the Se?orina's Teresa and Maria—two young ladies who handled the phones and my appointments—pushing papers. "It's also imperative you do not let the weekly budgets lapse. Every entry must be up-to-date so that cost is computed effectively."

"Right, I have notes." I waved a hand at the sticky notes plastered to every available inch of my monitor screen. The AC was blowing down the back of my neck, giving me a slight headache. I longed to be outside where it was warm, watching the workers harvesting our olives, or perhaps sneaking a peek into the huge metal garages where Donvino would be merrily tearing apart an engine or carburetor or some other motor part thingy. He loved his new job, and I was thrilled for him. His mood and self-esteem had improved over the past month to the point where he was now saying he might invest in a new scull. I was thrilled for him. And sullen for me. I did not like being the big bee in the hive. Not one bit. "Are you sure you have to leave?"

He removed his sleek wire-rimmed glasses and nodded. The air conditioning was blowing right in his face now, rustling his white hair vigorously.

"You've had me for two months, Arlo. You're quite capable of doing this job if you would simply stop daydreaming of being with the field hands and focus on the tasks of upper management."

He sounded like my father and aunt. Both had been incredibly supportive of this massive change in my life. Of course they were. It was part of their master plan to eventually get me into my father's seat behind the big desk back in Pindes Hill in the States. That was where he ruled the business from while Ginerva kept an eye on things from Italy. But if this was what being the kingpin was like, I was not remotely interested. I wanted to work with the employees I now knew, spend time with them, help them with work-related issues, and cooperate with the union for better conditions. I wanted to make them happy and safe. But here I was stuck in this office with Antarctic air making my sinuses cringe.

"I know. You were only here through the first harvest while I was in charge, but there's so much more to do. I wish I had a PA like you to do all of this mindless drone work."

"Thank you. It's nice to know that my work is mindless. Perhaps you could hire a chimpanzee to take my place."

"Sorry," I grimaced as I rubbed my forehead. "You are way smarter than any chimpanzee. I'm just whiny. My head hurts. It's Friday, and the harvest is over. The workers are going into Valle Sicuro for a party at the Peralta home. Donvino was invited, but I wasn't because now that I'm the senior manager, I'm not allowed to mingle with the workers."

He patted my shoulder. "I'm sure they meant no harm. It's just not generally done. Perhaps you could work on the oversight details for the final harvest tallies while Donvino is with the other employees?"

"Yay, fun." Ugh.

I blew out a long sad breath, sent Lowell on his way to his little rented room in the village, and said goodnight to the two young women in the front office. They chattered and waved as they left, heads together, whispering about how sad it was that Donvino was gay. I didn't think him being queer was piteous at all. I was rather delighted that he was now out and living close at hand. He had a tiny room in the village where he spent no time because he was always at the manager's cabin, where I now lived, in my bed.

He felt it was too soon for him to live with me because of the stigma that still weighed heavily on some of the workers. I'd not seen anything outwardly homophobic, but then again, they'd not say anything to me as I signed their paychecks. Well, a computer did that, but the point remained. I thought that my man was simply not willing to push Giada too far too fast. They were getting along moderately well when we visited with my aunt and her "friend" Vittoria, who now resided at the villa due to lingering health issues. Sadly, "lingering health issues" was lung cancer. When Ginerva had told me, I wept for hours. I'd come to adore Se?orina Cappello. She was that cool great-aunt who all kids loved. We had no clue how long she had left with us but her last round of treatments a year ago—which had made her hair fall out, which explained the turbans—hadn't done as well as they had hoped so she had declined to undergo any more radiation. To be honest, if I were her age and had lived the incredible life she had, I might refuse as well. She and her dogs were happy spending their days with my aunt, and I was tickled to spend Sunday afternoons continuing my lessons. After every successful class under the pergola, she still presented me with an orange. I would always associate the scent of pipe smoke with her.

So yes, Donvino was still concerned about his family. And that was fine. Truly. When he was ready, he knew there was room in the charming little house on the eastern edge of the farm.

The house had been left rather tidy. That had been a surprise. I'd been sure Piravino would have vandalized it, but no, he'd quietly moved out of the two-bedroom country home resting in a wide bend of the Tiber that cut through the farm. His new position outside of Pisa was all that I'd been made privy to. I'd not told anyone about the fracas with him. The man was justifiably upset with me coming in out of the blue and being handed his position. I would have been mad as well. I wouldn't have rushed someone with the intent to harm them, but I wasn't an aggressive personality.

I'd fallen in love with the cottage that had been built way back in the early 1900s for one of the first managers of the new mill 20. It was pale yellow stucco with a terrace, a large single bath, dark beams, and terracotta floors. The garden needed work and the artesian well was not bringing up much water due to the lingering drought, but otherwise, it was a quaint home for a starter family or a young man who was trying to lure his shy lover into taking the next step. I would be patient, though. He was worth the wait. It was only the beginning of fall now, mid-October, and we had nothing but time.

I made my way home, mind on a thousand things, and parked my Bianchina in front of the yellow-gold house. A stray dog, who I had named Earnest, roused from a nap on my front step and trotted down the weedy front walk to greet me. I had no clue who the little terrier mix belonged to. He had no collar or tattoos in his ears, nothing to show ownership. I prayed he hadn't belonged to Piravino. If that man had left his dog behind, I would climb that leaning tower to scope him out and go kick him in the balls.

"Hey, Ernie, how are you today, buddy?" I squatted down to ruffle his ears. He was the friendliest dog I had ever known. He loved everyone who arrived at the house even the postal delivery man. Everyone who visited got lots of kisses and tail wags from the tri-colored little guy. He flopped to his back, tongue lolling, and got a few pats to the tummy before we went inside. He'd come inside the second night I'd been here because I couldn't sleep while he was sitting outside the front door whining. Donvino and I had bathed him, fed him, and made up a bed in the corner of the living room next to the fireplace. We made posters and plastered them all over Valle Sicuro, but no one ever claimed him so by virtue of how these things worked, I now owned a dog. Another first, for I'd never entertained the idea of being a pet owner.

Donvino arrived about fifteen minutes after I had changed and showered. He gave Earnest some love and a tiny dog treat and then looked me over.

"What?" I asked as I padded about in my sleep shorts and nothing else. The house had no air conditioning, and I was roasting.

"Why are you in pajamas?" he asked as he peeled off a grease-stained tee. My eyes roamed over that hairy chest. Mm-mm-mm.

"Because I'm going to spend the night in front of the fan, reading over sales figures and then collating numbers into more numbers and then putting those numbers in columns." I longed to wrap myself around him but he was dirty—mechanic work was horribly filthy—and stank of sweaty man.

"Oh, why aren't you doing that tomorrow when we have off? Do you not want to go to the party?" He unzipped his jeans, peeled off them and his briefs, and my eyes could not help but dart down to his beautiful cock. Soft and thick, lying there against his thigh. When my brain shook off the cock lust, my sight flew to his grimy face.

"Party? I wasn't invited to the party. That's for workers only." Earnest gave up on begging for another treat and went to the doorway to lie in the cross breeze. "You may want to move from the open front door."

He took a few steps to the right. Good thing the mail came at noon. "Who says you aren't invited? You are to come with me."

"Wait, who said that?" I placed the folder filled with printouts on the coffee table in front of our new used sofa. We'd managed to outfit the whole house, just about, on what I'd found in Ginerva's attic. I'd even brought all the steamer trunks along with me, for one day I would find time to return to dream number one.

"Arturo," he replied, moving up the stairs, dirty clothes in hand, his fine ass on display.

"Arturo said I was to come?" I asked, chasing after him and trailing behind, enjoying the view immensely as he made his way into the only bathroom in the house. His clothes were dropped into the blue hamper, a bin just for his work clothes, which sat next to a green hamper for all other dirty items. "But the office girls said that management never goes to the worker parties." He tossed me a look and then cranked on the water. The old pipes clattered loudly before a jet of hot water exploded out of the showerhead. "Sorry, the women in the office said—"

"They were wrong," he stated, pulled the soft blue curtain back, and stepped into the narrow shower stall.

"But Lowell said so too," I argued, then wondered why I was arguing. "

"Lowell is wrong." He closed the curtain in my face.

"Lowell is never wrong. Just ask him," I replied and got a hearty chuckle from the other side of the curtain. "So I can really go?"

"Yes, Arlo, you can really go. Now get dressing."

He was so bossy. But to be fair, he knew me rather well. I darted off to scour my wardrobe. An hour later, I was finally ready to depart. Donvino was sitting on the sofa listening to M?neskin as he read a rowing magazine. He was now searching for a new scull.

"So, how do I look?" I asked as I pirouetted around the room, getting a bark of appreciation from Earnest, who was always honest, ergo his name. I'd pulled on a formfitting vest of darkest sienna shot through with silver threads, a short-sleeved pimento green shirt, yellow shorts, and a pair of leather sandals. My hair was gelled, my scruff trimmed, and my eyebrows neat and evenly plucked.

"You look beautiful," he replied, also quite earnestly, and rose, tossing his magazine aside to pull me into his arms and kiss me under my left ear. My dick liked that a lot. "Maybe we skip the party?"

"Mm, do not tempt me. I would love to go to the party, though…"

He sighed against my throat. "Then we will go. But when we get home, we go to bed and I will fuck you just the way you like it."

Damn, now I was wavering, but I pushed the lust aside. Just for a few hours. That would make our joining that much sweeter.

"Later it is, then. Let's go!" I grabbed his wrist and tugged him to the front door. "You guard the house, Ernie," I told the terrier.

He seemed content to do that, so off we went, using my car instead of his bike so not to crush my perfect hair. I felt bubbly inside knowing that the people who I was doing my best for, the workers of mill 20, liked me. Yes, that's probably not a goal for a manager, and my father would have a conniption fit about it, but so what. If he was so worried about my being friendly with the workers, then maybe he should have come to help me through the past two months instead of sending Lowell. Was I tiffy and hurt about that? Yes, yes, I was. Should I tell him? Yes, yes, I should. But we had reached this rather nice place now where we talked about the business like equals. I hated to muck that up being petulant about not getting Daddy time.

"I love you," I whispered to Donvino as we pulled up to the small but festively decorated home of our union representative and his family.

"I love you too," he replied, stealing a shy, sweet kiss.

The sounds of revelry and bouncy Italian dance music flowed from Arturo's home into the open windows of my car.

"This is going to be one of the best nights ever," I whispered over his sensual lips.

"All the nights are best nights when we are together."

"Okay, that sweetness right there cements you getting fucked later tonight," I teased, stole another taste of his lips, and darted out of the car to release my party animal.

***

Earnest met us at the door, wagging his tail and yipping in that excited terrier way. We let him out to piddle, my hands all over Donvino as we stood in the dark front yard while Ernie sniffed ten thousand places before choosing a scraggly bush to lift his leg.

Somehow, we made it back inside, my clothes halfway off before we were even on the stairs. Donvino got antsy waiting for me to find my shirt on the floor, so he hoisted me over his shoulder in a fireman carry and carted me up the steps. I squealed in delight, my hands slapping his fine backside until I was dropped on the bed like a sack of spuds.

"Now we fuck," he growled low like a panther as he peeled me out of my shorts. I kicked at the material balled around my ankles, my blood fizzy with champagne and good times. The party had been so much fun. Everyone there had been warm and friendly. We talked very little business, but I did promise to sit down with Arturo and a few of his chosen reps to discuss things in-depth now that the harvest was completed. "God you are divine," he said as I wiggled upward to the pillows like a slinky cat, then rolled to my belly. "Spread yourself for me."

I heard him in the box of goodies we kept beside the bed. The click of the lube cap made my dick leak. No condoms now. We'd both been tested and had been monogamous since we'd met, so we'd ditched them as soon as the results had come back clear a month ago.

I lifted my hips, grabbed my cheeks, and pulled them wide. His fingers found my hole, teasing the furled edges with slippery fingers. I bit down on the coverlet when he slid two thick digits into me, stretching me open as he massaged my lower back with his left hand. He found the spot, made me yelp, and then replaced his fingers with that magnificent cock of his.

"Don't dilly dally," I huffed into the bedding, twisting my head to the side for fresh air. "Fuck me like you mean it."

"As you wish," he purred, then plunged into me. I gasped. He paused. I made a whiny sound that meant get to it buddy, a sound he knew well by now, so he ground deeper, rolling his hips when he bottomed out.

The top of my head felt as if it was about to blow off. Kind of like my dick. I let go of my cheeks to grab the brass headboard. He hoisted me higher, to my knees, and then found his rhythm. Hard, merciless, rough, and perfect. Each thrust pegged my prostate. I blew apart in no time. The only stimulation to my cock was the back and forth of the swollen head on the coverlet. My cries bounced off the walls as my balls emptied. Donvino clutched my hips, pulling me back to meet each wild surge of his hips. When he came, it was forceful and hot, wet, so wet…

Cum leaked out of me, coating my balls, dripping to the already violated coverlet of soft brown. He folded over my back, his teeth scraping along my neck as he shuddered violently. Each shiver added another pulse of spend. Eyes now closed, chest heaving, he kissed my shoulder and then eased out, huffing softly. He used his index finger to press some cum back inside me, making me moan into the bedding.

"So beautiful," he whispered and rolled off the bed. My knees splayed out to the sides. I slid downward into a puddle of warm cum with a grunt before moving to my side. "Here, my pretty rainbow dreamer." He placed a warm, wet cloth on my belly. I rolled to my back, close to where he sat on the edge of the bed and threw my arms over my head.

"I'm too exhausted to move. Can you clean me up?"

He smiled down at me. "Given how pretty you sing when I'm fucking you, I will clean you up forever."

"Sweet talker." I sighed, letting my eyes drift closed as he wiped up the mess on my stomach. I fell asleep almost instantly. The combination of lots of carbs, a few glasses of bubbly, and a great lay were the perfect way to end a long work week. I felt or heard nothing for a few hours, then in the darkest part of the night I slowly came awake to the sound of Earnest barking and scratching at the bedroom door. I groaned at the sound of those high-pitched yips as well as the twinge in my ass and swatted around in the dark behind me until my hand found something solid.

Donvino made a grumbly noise.

"Can you see why the dog is at the door?" I mumbled groggily as I slowly peeled one eye open to try to find my phone. The room seemed kind of bright for the middle of the night. I felt around on the nightstand but only found the lube. The smell of a woodfire tickled my nose. Had we lit the fireplace last night? Where was my phone? Oh right, my clothes were scattered around the house. Earnest barked more violently as he dug madly on the door. Donvino hadn't moved behind me. I sat up, inhaled to sigh, and sucked in smoke. My lungs instantly revolted, and I started hacking. Blinking fully awake now, I glanced around. The room was thick with smoke that glowed an eerie yellow-red.

"Oh shit." I coughed as the reality of what was going on finally dawned on me. The house was on fire. "Donvino! Get up! Fire!"

I gave him a mighty shake as I flew from the bed to the door. I yanked it open, and Earnest dashed in, whining and shaking. I scooped him up and slammed the door on the flames licking up the staircase. Donvino was slowly coming awake.

"Get up! Get up! We have to get out of here! The house is on fire!" I screamed at him. That shook him out of that sleepy state of half-wakefulness. "Donvino! We have to go!"

I dropped the dog on the bed, found my briefs and yanked them on as Donvino was kicking at the covers like a madman. Earnest was frantic now, leaping from the bed and dashing to the lone window in the room.

"Hurry, come, this way out," Donvino said as he yanked his jeans over his backside and grabbed the dog from the floor. We ran to the window, threw it open, and then he motioned for me to go. "Go, I will drop the dog down to you. Go!"

Something exploded downstairs, rattling the house. "You come right after. Promise me!"

"Yes, I promise. Go. Go!"

I glanced down to see that this side of the house was not engulfed. Yet. But the first floor was an inferno. My mind went blank for a moment, but Donvino gave me a nudge. So, I slung my legs over, turned to face Donvino, and lowered myself down. The fall to the dry grass was perhaps six or seven feet. My ankle twisted out. I hissed but held up my hands. Earnest fell into my arms with a solid thud. I skittered back to make room for Donvino. He sat on the sill, then leapt down, though his landing was more graceful than mine. The house heaved as if trying to draw a breath. It felt like an ominous sound, so we spun to run away to the river. I was slow, limping along, so Donvino took my arm to pull me along. It hurt badly, but I bit down on my lip and forced myself to flee. That was when we saw that the orchards were aflame. Acres and acres of fires leaping into the darkness, sparks catching on the hot winds and spreading to other trees. I gaped at the carnage, the years of careful planting and cultivating gone in a wildfire that was racing toward us.

"Go to the water. We will swim across and get off Bonetti land." He gave me a shove to get my feet moving. Earnest was panting with fear, his head tucked into the fold of my arm, his toenails digging into my bare side. We ran as fast as we could—my tender ankle slowing me—until we reached the Tiber, slugging along, a mere shadow of what it was normally. Behind us, another explosion from the manager's villa, one that shook the ground and sent a cascade of sparks skyward a good hundred feet. The gas main. Dear Blessed Virgin. A blast of heat rolled over us, searing our backs and coating us with ash and soot. Donvino took the dog from me as we slid down the bank into the water. I cried out to give the dog back, but he shook his head. Earnest was already paddling across the river.

"He's fine. Now we go." He placed a hand on my ass and gave me a gentle push. I slid into the water, shaking madly, crying for no reason that I could ascertain, and began swimming after the dog. Donvino was right beside me, strong arms slicing through the water to reach the other shore at the same time as Earnest. I came along a moment later, still weeping, and was pulled out and up to the embankment. My legs folded as we turned, soaked to the skin, to witness the area where we housed several hundred beehives go up in flames. I covered my eyes, unable to watch the carnage to our home and our lands and wept uncontrollably. The sound of sirens broke through the crackle and pops of a fire that was quickly growing out of control. Everything was tinder due to the drought.

"The village firefighters are coming," Donvino said as he dropped down beside me. He draped an arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his side. Earnest wiggled in to sit on my lap, his fur damp.

"You saved us," I whispered to the sodden dog someone had discarded like an unwanted shoe. I hugged him close, my vision filled with tears and tens of thousands of dollars of loss. If not for this stray, we would have been a part of the losses. Realizing just how close we had come to death, I started crying even harder while the night sky flamed.