Prologue
The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the rolling hills of the vineyard. Emilia Giordani a spirited fifteen-year-old with a wild mane of chestnut hair, stepped out of the car, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nostalgia. The familiar scent of ripe grapes and fresh earth filled the air as she took in the landscape that had been a canvas for her childhood memories.
Beside her, her mother, Georgia, adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and smiled, her eyes twinkling with the Niccolò warmth that the late afternoon sun provided. “It’s just as beautiful as I remember,” Georgia stated, glancing toward the rows of vines stretching out like green waves.
“It really is. Mama, do you think I could stay here for a bit?” She said, looking around.
Emilia’s gaze drifting to the cottage nestled among the vines. It was a place of laughter, stories, and the comforting aroma of Nonna Cecelia's cooking. She could almost hear her grandmother's voice calling them in for dinner, filled with tales from the past.
“Ofcourse my darling, I’ll just let your nonna know. See you at the cottage.”
“See you there. I won’t be long.”
“Don’t steal too many grapes Emilia!” Her mother shouted as she left Emilia to her own devices.
As Emilia made her way down the gravel path, her thoughts wandered. She remembered the last time she had visited, the games played, and the secrets shared beneath the sprawling oak tree. She felt a surge of anticipation—this trip promised new adventures.
Suddenly, a rustling sound drew her attention. Emerging from between the rows of vines was Niccolò Lombardi, the vineyard owner's son. His dark hair glistened in the sunlight, and he wore a playful grin that sent a flutter through Emilia’s stomach. They had known each other since childhood, but in recent years, he had transformed from a scrappy boy into a young man, filled with charm and confidence.
“Lia!” he called, his voice warm and inviting. “You’re back!”
He ran to grab her and swung her around, Emilia clung to him.
“Hey, Nicco! It’s good to see you!” She smiled, a mix of shyness and excitement blooming within her.
Emilia and Niccolò stood among the vines, the air thick with the scent of ripening grapes. Niccolò leaned casually against a sturdy post, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief.
“So, bambolina,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “how does it feel to be back in the land of grapes and... well, your lovely Nonna’s cooking?”
Emilia chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through her. “It feels like coming home. You know how much I love her lasagna.”
Niccolò smirked, his playful demeanour making her heart race.
“I bet you just love it for the extra cheese. I think it’s more about the cheese than the love, isn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes, a grin pulling at her lips. “Okay, maybe a little bit. But it's also the stories she tells while we eat! You wouldn’t understand—unless you’re ready to admit you miss her cooking too.”
He laughed, a rich sound that echoed among the vines. “I’d never admit that! I’m trying to keep my reputation as the tough vineyard owner’s son intact.”
Emilia raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms with mock seriousness.
“Tough? Is that why you spend your days tending to grapes and flirting with girls in the vineyard?”
Niccolò stepped closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Flirting? Who, me? I’m just being friendly. Besides, I can’t help it if you’re standing there looking like a summer breeze.”
Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, and she looked down, pretending to inspect a cluster of grapes. “You’re such a charmer, Niccolò. What’s your secret?”
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“It’s all in the delivery. You have to make them feel special, you know. Like they’re the only person in the vineyard.”
Emilia felt a flutter in her stomach, a mix of amusement and something deeper.
“Well, you definitely have a way with words.”
Niccolò grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “So, what are your plans while you’re here? Are you going to help your Nonna with her cooking, or are you too busy daydreaming about escaping to the city?”
She laughed, shaking her head.
“I can’t escape yet! I’m here for the summer, and I plan to soak it all in—vineyards, family, and maybe even some adventure.”
His expression turned playful again. “Adventure, huh? I suppose that means you’ll need a partner in crime. I’m available, you know.”
Emilia met his gaze, her heart racing. “Oh, really? What makes you think you’re up for it?”
“Because,” he said, stepping back with a mock-seriousness, “I’m a master of the vineyard. I know all the secret paths and the best spots. Trust me; you won’t regret it.”
Niccolò leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You know, if you’re looking for some real adventure, you should come over to my house later. I’ve got some new things to show you—some secret spots in the vineyard.”
Emilia hesitated, a mix of curiosity and caution swirling within her.
“I... I should probably help Nonna with dinner,” she replied, glancing back toward the cottage, the warmth of home beckoning her.
Niccolò pouted playfully, feigning disappointment. “Come on! Just for a little while? I promise it’ll be fun.”
She shook her head, her heart racing at the thought of being alone with him, yet feeling the pull of her family traditions.
“Maybe another time. I don’t want to keep Nonna waiting.”
His expression softened, understanding flickering in his eyes.
“Alright, I’ll hold you to that. But you’re missing out on the best parts of summer.”
“It’s just begun so I’m sure I’ll see it soon.”
As they stood surrounded by the vibrant vines, Emilia felt the weight of the moment, a balance between childhood and the burgeoning feelings that stirred within her.
“Arrivederci bambolina.”
“See you Nicco.”
With a final smile, she turned and continued toward the cottage, the sun casting long shadows behind her.
