365 Days

Chapter 1 (Part 4)

My mother always said that a woman should al-

ways be beautiful even if she is hurting. And if my

face couldn’t be as attractive as it was on a good

day, I had to take everyone’s attention off it. So for

the trip I selected light denim shorts, a loose white

shirt, and despite the scorching heat outside, a

light, gray mélange cotton cardigan. Planes were

too cold for me, and even if it meant I’d boil outside first, at least I’d feel comfortable on board.

Well, as far as I could, anyway—I was terrified of

flying. I slipped my feet into my Isabel Marant

wedge-heel gray-white sneakers and I was ready.

I went to the living room, which was connected

to the kitchen annex. The apartment had modern

decor—cold and minimalist.

The walls were covered with black glass, the bar was illuminated with LEDs, and instead of a table like you’d have in a normal home there was a small counter with two

leather-covered stools. An enormous gray corner

sofa sitting in the middle of the room was a testa-

ment to its owner’s size.

The bedroom was divided from the living room by a great aquarium. It was clear that a woman hadn’t designed this

apartment. It was the perfect fit for a committed

single, which the lord and commander of this par-

ticular apartment had been until recently.

Martin was sitting with his nose in his laptop as usual.

It didn’t matter what he was doing at any

given time—working, on a call, or watching a

movie—he always kept his laptop close by. It was

his best friend and an integral part of who the man

was.

I hated it with a passion, but it had always

been like that, so I really had no right to change it.

Even though I had appeared in his life more than a

year ago only owing to that little device, it would

be hypocrisy if I suddenly wanted it out of his life.

I remember it had been February, and I hadn’t

been in a relationship with anyone for more than

six months. I was growing bored, or maybe lonely,

so I decided to set up a profile on a dating site. It

turned out to be fun, not to mention that it ended

up boosting my already high self-esteem. During

one of those sleepless nights, browsing through

hundreds of men, I finally stumbled on Martin. He

was looking for a loyal woman to fill his world all

at once. Anyway, we clicked and thus a petite girl

tamed the tattooed monster. Our relationship

wasn’t your run-of-the-mill affair. We were both

the strong, dominant types and were prone to

explosive outbursts. We were also both intelligent

and had significant knowledge of our respective

professions. It pulled us both to each other, in-

triguing and impressing us. The only thing our

relationship was lacking was the animal magnetism, the unbridled attraction and passion

that had simply never been there. As Martin had

once said, he’d already had his share of f*****g. I,

on the other hand, was a volcano of s****l energy

threatening to explode at any time. I had to search

for release by m**********g on a daily basis. But

still, I felt good at Martin’s side. Safe and calm. It

was more important than s*x. Or at least that’s

what I thought.

“I’m ready, honey. I just have to zip up my trav-

el bag, which is not going to be easy, and we can

go.”

With a laugh, Martin pushed himself up,

stuffed the laptop into its bag, and headed toward

my luggage.

“I think I’ll manage, baby doll,” he said, squeez-

ing my gigantic suitcase. “It’s the same thing all

over again, eh? Excess baggage, thirty pairs of

shoes and half the closet flying with us while

you’re not going to wear more than, like, ten per-

cent of all that.”

I frowned and crossed my arms.

“At least I’ll have choices!” I retorted, putting

on my sunglasses.

I always felt apprehensive and anxious in air-

ports, afraid even. I had claustrophobia and hated

flying. Besides, I had inherited my mother’s pessimism. It was always doom and gloom for

me, so I tended to overthink things that at least

theoretically might end up in some kind of trau-

ma. So a flying can with a pair of engines strapped

to the sides wasn’t something I’d likely trust with-

out a shadow of a doubt.

We were traveling with Martin’s friends, who

were already waiting for us in the brightly lit depar-

tures hall. Karolina and Michał had been together

for years and had chosen our destination. They

were thinking of getting married, but at least for

now, thinking about it was enough. He was your

typical womanizer. With short blond hair, a deep

tan, and blue eyes he was also pretty good-

looking. All he was ever interested in was boobs,

though. He didn’t even try denying that. She, on

the other hand, was a tall, long-legged blonde with

a delicate, girlish face. Nothing special at first

glance, but when you came to know her, she be-

came remarkably interesting. Karolina all but ig-

nored Michał’s bothersome inclinations. I wasn’t

sure how she managed it. With my posses-

siveness, I wouldn’t be able to stay with a man

whose head turned every time he glimpsed an-

other woman. I swallowed two antianxiety pills to

be sure I wouldn’t have a full-blown panic attack

on the plane.

We were supposed to have a stopover in Rome.

An hour’s break and then another hour flying

straight to Sicily. Last time I had been to Italy I

was sixteen, and since then I didn’t have a high

opinion of Italians. They were noisy, intrusive, and

didn’t know a word of English. And English was

like a native tongue to me. After all those years

spent in various hotels, there were times I even

thought in English.

When we finally landed in Catania, the sun was

already setting. The guy at the car rental office

took his bloody time handling customers. We got

stuck in the queue for an hour. Martin was hungry

and edgy, and his foul mood was rubbing off on

me, so I decided to take a look around the place.

There wasn’t much to see, truth be told. I exited

the air-conditioned building and felt the over-

whelming heat. In the distance, I saw the smoking

summit of Mount Etna. It was a bit disturbing, re-

ally, though I had known the volcano was still ac-

tive. Walking with my head in the clouds, I didn’t

notice the end of the pavement, and before I gath-

ered my wits, an enormous Italian popped out of

nowhere and I nearly walked into him. I stopped,

dumbfounded, a couple of inches from the man’s

back, but he didn’t even flinch, failing to notice I

nearly slammed into him. A group of men wearing dark suits were walking out of the airport terminal.

The man in front of me looked like he was escort-

ing them. I didn’t wait for them to pass, instead

turning on my heel and walking back to the car

rental office, praying for the car finally to be ready.

When I was close, three black SUVs drove by. The

middle one seemed to slow down a bit for an in-

stant, but I couldn’t see anything inside through

the darkened windows.

“Laura!” I heard Martin call out, the keys to our

car clasped in his hand. “Where the hell are you

going? We’re off!”

Hilton Giardini Naxos welcomed us with an enor-

mous vase in the shape of a head, holding a bun-

dle of tall white and pink lilies. The scent of the

flowers filled the impressive entrance hall deco-

rated with golden motifs.

“Real ritzy, darling,” I said, turning to Martin

with a smile. “A bit Louis XVI. I wonder if there’s a

bathtub with lion paws upstairs.”

Everyone burst out laughing. We all had all

been thinking the same thing, it seemed. The hotel

wasn’t as luxurious as a Hilton should have been.

There were a lot of shortcomings I could discern

with my professional eye.

“The only things that matter are a good bed, a

freezer filled with vodka, and some sunny weather,” Michał said. “I don’t care about any-

thing else.”

“Right, well, I forgot this is going to be just an-

other trip of binge drinking. Now I feel bad for not

being an alcoholic like the rest of you,” I replied

with a grimace of mock irritation. “I’m hungry. I

had my last meal back in Warsaw. Can we get a

move on and eat out today? I can already taste that

pizza and wine…”

“Spoken like the absolutely-not-alcoholic affi-

cionado of large quantities of wine and cham-

pagne,” Martin said with a smirk, wrapping his

great arm around my shoulders.

All similarly hungry, we unpacked our things

quickly, and after fifteen minutes met in the cor-

ridor between our rooms.

With what little time I had, unfortunately I

didn’t have the opportunity to adequately prepare

myself for going out, but on my way to the room

earlier I’d been mentally combing through the

contents of my baggage. I wanted something that

would end up the least crumpled after the long

trip. Finally, I’d picked a long black dress with a

metal cross on the back, a pair of black flip-flops,

a black leather fringe bag, a gold watch, and large

round earrings. I’d hastily applied some eyeliner

and mascara, touching up my earlier work, which was already fading after the flight, and then pow-

dered my face lightly. I’d grabbed a tube of gold-

en-speck-led lip gloss and drew a line along my

lips without looking in the mirror.

Karolina and Michał shot me surprised glances

as I left the room. They were still in the same

clothes they had had on during the flight.

“How did you manage to change clothes al-

ready? You look like you had hours to prepare!”

Karolina muttered as we were walking to the ele-

vator.

“Well…” I shrugged. “You’ve got your talent for

excessive drinking, but I have a trick or two up my

sleeve, too. I prepare in my head, so then I can

ready myself in a couple minutes.”

“All right, quit it with the chitchat. Let’s go have

a drink!” Martin boomed.

All four of us crossed the hotel lobby to the

exit.

Giardini Naxos at night was a beautiful, pic-

turesque place. The narrow, winding streets pul-

sated with life and music. There were all kinds of

people everywhere, from young partygoers to

mothers with children. Sicily only woke up after

sundown, it seemed. The scorching heat of the

day was too much for everyone to go out earlier.

We reached the densely populated port district.

To Be Continued...