All I Believe (Firsts and Forever, #10)(30)

When Luca stepped out of the hotel, I was up on the float dancing (kind of) with Rafi. I wasn’t much of a dancer, so all I was doing was swaying a bit to the music while my new friend busted some serious moves around me. I remembered Nana saying something about Rafael bringing his dance troupe, so I didn’t feel bad about being the least-coordinated person on the float.

I was also the most conservatively dressed by far in my khaki Bermuda shorts, sandals and white, loose-fitting camp shirt, but Rafael soon corrected that by grabbing the hem of my shirt and yanking it off over my head. His friends whooped as he threw the shirt aside, and two of them joined us, pretty much using me as a stripper pole as they gyrated around me.

I laughed embarrassedly and looked for Luca in the crowd. He was smiling and clapping his hands. I gestured at him to join me, and both he and the two little tween girls in front of him climbed up onto the float and started dancing. “Look at you,” he said, sliding his hands down my bare biceps as he moved to the music.

“Look at you,” I countered, running my gaze down the flawless dark charcoal suit he was wearing, along with a black shirt that was open at the collar. He was beyond sexy.

“I’m entirely overdressed.”

I nodded and yelled over the music, “You make overdressed look good.”

Nana shimmied off the float, plucked a little old man in a baseball cap from the audience, and brought him back with her. The ever-expanding crowd cheered and applauded as the two of them started dancing enthusiastically. Rafi and his friends followed suit. Each of the gorgeous, sparkling men in heels and makeup jumped off the float and pulled people from the audience. I spotted the lesbian couple from Croatia who we’d met the other night at the bar, and I jumped to the ground, grabbed their hands, and brought them back with me. They looked delighted.

At least twenty people danced on the float as it began to do a very slow lap around the town square. The dancers had grabbed all kinds of people including a middle-aged pair of tourists, a guy who looked like a banker, a woman in her sixties wearing a babushka and an apron, and a young mom with a toddler. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Luca pulled me into his arms as we swayed to the music. I was so happy to be sharing that moment with him. Someone tugged on his sleeve, and we turned to look at the two young girls who’d climbed up with him. One yelled, “Dance with us,” in Italian, and the four of us joined hands and rocked out. I stopped caring that I couldn’t dance and just had fun, and the girls beamed at us, their smiles a sea of braces.


When we completed our lap and pulled up in front of the hotel, Jessie and Nana jumped off and started handing out pink flyers advertising the singles party. The dance troupe joined in, and so did Luca and I (after I retrieved my shirt). Soon all the flyers were distributed, and Nana came up to us and exclaimed, “That went real good! Now I don’t know about you, but I could use some refreshments!”

We joined her and Jessie and the six dancers, all of whom were statuesque in high heels and radiant in their makeup and sparkly outfits. Their short, fairly conservative haircuts were a great contrast to the rest of their look. Our group paraded proudly into the lobby of the hotel, turning every head on our way to the bar.

As we settled in around three tables that we pushed together, Luca pulled a chair close to mine, kissed my cheek, and said, “Hi.” I was so happy to see the sparkle had returned to his eyes.

I kissed his lips and said, “Hi yourself.”

“I have to say, I had no idea I’d be riding a pride float around the town square when I woke up this morning,” he told me.

“That’s my grandmother’s special brand of magic. I’ve found if you just go with it, you can end up in some pretty remarkable situations.”

For the next couple hours, alcohol flowed, Nana ordered enough food to feed forty people (which the dancers scarfed down enthusiastically), and the conversation was upbeat and lively. When Nana asked Rafael about his troupe, he told her in Italian, “We were inspired by the American Chippendales, but we wanted to put a glam twist on it. Normally we strip down to glow-in-the-dark jockstraps during our numbers, but we decided to keep it family-friendly on the float.” Good call.

“We’re new to this and haven’t gotten many gigs,” a dancer named Danny said, “so we were excited that you asked us to be a part of your event. We’re also thrilled that a gay and straight singles mixer is coming to Viladembursa. Even though I live in Catania now, this is my hometown, and believe me when I say, nothing ever happens here.”

“It’s my hometown, too,” Nana told him. “My family moved to the states when I was a girl, but I guess not much has changed. It’s probably quadrupled in size, but it still feels like a sleepy village.”

“My family goes way back,” Danny said. “My last name is Grasso, what’s yours?”

“My maiden name is Russo,” she said. “But my married name is Dombruso.”

“Merda, you don’t mean the Dombrusos, do you?” Danny asked.

“Yeah. My husband’s family had quite the reputation around here, I know. My mama was both a mother and father to me since she was a widow, and she went ballistic when I told her I was marrying a Dombruso,” she said. “Nothing was gonna stop me, though. I was young and reckless, and the fact that my family forbade it just made it that much more exciting. We were married for a lot of years, and even though he proved to be a schmuck, I had three beautiful sons and a whole mess of wonderful grandkids and great-grandkids, which made it all worthwhile. But my mother never did forgive me.”