Rosalia
I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Greece. From the moment the jet starts to descend, and I can see the crystalline blue water below, I’m glued to the window, watching the iconic blue-topped white buildings in the distance and the colorful spray of flowers, the beauty of it stretching out below us as we get closer and closer to landing. I can tell that Angelo is enjoying my reaction from the smile on his face, and I nearly skip off of the plane as we go to the waiting car, eager to see where it is that we’re staying. He hasn’t given me any clues, not so much as a picture, and it’s hard to sit still as the car winds its way through the streets to the waterside hotel that Angelo has rented for us.
“I got us the best suite,bellissima,” he promises me as we get out in front of
