One Italian Summer(42)

Adam sticks his hands on his hips and leans backward, blowing some air out of his lips. “Whew,” he says. “That’s a workout.”

I hold out my bottle of water to him, and he takes a long drink.

“Thanks.”

I nod.

“And no, I wasn’t following you,” he says, handing it back to me. “I told you I like to hike. When you mentioned the stairs, it stuck with me.”

“How was Naples?” I ask him.

“Good,” he says. “It’s a weird place, but I love it.”

“Do you want to walk the path a little? I’ve never been any farther than this.”

He picks up his T-shirt and wipes his forehead. I see the slice of skin of his abdomen. The taut muscle underneath. “Yeah,” he says. “Let’s do it.”

We enter the path and continue on upward. The views are spectacular. After another ten minutes, I wonder if we’re close to La Tagliata; we seem to be in the clouds at this point. We pause at an overlook. I hold on to a wooden rail, worn down to a smooth, satiny patina from all the travelers that have come and gone. Adam moves to stand beside me.

“I read that the path is where the gods used to come down to meet Poseidon at the sea,” Adam tells me.

“It was Ulysses,” I say.

“Right, Ulysses. I like that,” he says. “I could see why they’d choose it here. To mingle with the earthlings. You’d want somewhere that felt like heaven on earth.”

“I used to love Greek mythology. Roman? I can never remember.”

“Roman,” he says. “But I think they are quite similar. What about it did you love?”

“I think I liked that there was someone in charge of everything. A god for water, a god for wine, a goddess for spring, and a goddess for love. Everything had a ruler.”

“That’s interesting,” Adam says. “They were still greedy, though. They still wanted what the other one had. And they got all tangled in with the mortals. It wasn’t a very orderly situation. Very human, actually.”

I glance at Adam, who is looking out over the ocean. There is a breeze now, and the wind picks up the sticky hair on the back of my neck.

“Why do you want to buy the hotel?” I ask him. “Really. I know it’s a good investment and all that.”

“How is that not enough of a reason, especially for a company looking to grow?”

I shake my head. “You love Marco and Nika; you come here every year; you said yourself that this place is special to you. I just don’t buy that someone sent you on this mission, and you want to take over a place you already think is perfect.”

Adam doesn’t immediately answer. He inhales, his eyes still on the ocean. “You know I didn’t want to work in real estate? I love it now, but a long time ago I wanted to be a lawyer.”

“Really?”

Adam nods. “My mother is one, and my father is, too. They met in law school. It felt like the thing to do. My parents are both so passionate about the law and they love their jobs. I figured I’d love it, too.”

“So what happened?”

“I failed the bar,” he says. “And then I failed it again. After the second time, I had to do some soul-searching.”

“You discovered you didn’t really want to be a lawyer?”

“It wasn’t that. It was that I couldn’t really grasp the law. I wasn’t good at it. Even after all that time in law school, it felt like I was reading a foreign language.” He pauses, wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “In the end, I just didn’t care enough. And I think it’s hard to be good at something that you don’t love.” He clears his throat. “I know this hotel,” he continues. “I love this hotel.”

“I get it,” I say. “I mean, I can see why. I love it, too.”

“I’m not trying to change it,” he says to me. His tone carries a charge. He really wants me to know. “I want to help; I want to make it even better. I want the Poseidon to be the best version of itself so it will be around for a very long time.”

“Okay,” I say.

“I’m an opportunist, but I’m not a bad person. They’re stuck,” he says. “They need help moving forward.”

“And you?”

Adam puts both hands on the railing. I take another survey of the sea. “Am I stuck?”

I don’t answer him.

“I think I’m really good at travel and less good at what happens when you stand still,” he says. “I like to be a visitor. In places, in hotels, sometimes in other people’s lives.” He glances at me, and our eyes meet briefly. “I guess I’m not really sure where or if I’m meant to land yet, and the hotel feels like a good opportunity to dig in, where usually I’d just—”

“Keep renting?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

We look out over the water for another moment. And then he taps me twice on the arm. It’s sporty, maybe even friendly, but I feel it down in my stomach. “I’m impressed with your speed,” he says.

“I’d say let’s keep going, but I don’t want us to die of dehydration.”

“We can turn around,” Adam says. “And we’ll hit this lemonade stand on the way down. No water, but I do have cash.”