The Playboy Diary: Age of Innocence

Meeting Luca

Two Sakura trees embraced the garden with their pink falling leaves. There was a Jasmine tree too that seemed to be the only stranger in that world of plants. The grass was mowed, and the LED lights cuddled the tree branches and the walls. She could imagine her father sitting there to read; the place was calm and peaceful. She looked at it for about ten minutes and let herself

sink into some beautiful thoughts.

Yes, Sciacca was the right place for her now—not busy New York, no, a small Italian town.

That was the small garden where she would be spending her summer evenings from now on. She knew that her cousins would come to pick her up for the town’s tour, so she went back to her room to dress up. I know, I never described her before, nor did I describe her style. Well, Leila is in her late twenties, looking a few years younger than her age. She’s of medium height, not too tall for a girl, nor is she too short for a man. She has dark brown almond eyes, long curly thick hair, a small nose, full lips, and rounded medium arch eyebrows.

Thanks to her Algerian genes, no one could tell where she is from. She is attractive, not very beautiful, but attractive to the eyes. She sometimes alternates between a masculine look and a feminine one depending on her mood.

That day, she chose to wear her blue floral summer dress and white sneakers. She put on soft makeup, a light perfume, matched the sneakers with a small white bag, and wore simple jewelry, then went to the barbecue space and sat at the dining table waiting. Her cousins arrived ten minutes later; Sofia was driving her red mini cooper, and Carlo accompanied her wearing a half-angry face. His sister had been talking non-stop; he was quite the opposite; he liked enjoying a peaceful morning.

“Aren’t you excited that our cousin is here? Finally, I have a friend who is a girl!” exclaimed Sofia the moment they got off the car.

Carlo remained silent; he didn’t like engaging in such conversations, especially in the morning. He opened the cottage’s door, and upon seeing

Leila, withdrew back. “What’s wrong?” asked Sofia. “You go first,” he said.

“Oh, I get it! You’re shy, or maybe….” She said teasing. “Sofia, just get in,” said Carlo firmly.

“Ok, ok relax!” she replied.

Carlo hated his sister’s small car; he wanted to bring his motorbike, but Sofia insisted that he should come with them, claiming that it was more fun that way. They went to a small café to have breakfast, then had a small tour downtown.

They visited the tower of Charles the fifth, went to some shops, and had a good time taking pictures. After that, they went to Scala de Turchi and the Valley of Temples, the two famous places that the port is known for. It was the town’s busiest month of the year; many tourists flooded the place.

“Doesn’t she resemble her mother?” asked Carlo when Leila was away observing the Valley’s walls

“Who? Our cousin?” replied Sofia, who was checking her phone. “Yes,” answered Carlo.

“I’ve never seen her mom,” said Sofia. “Well, I have,” replied Carlo

They ended their tour early in the evening; Carlo was relieved when the girls decided to order pizza and spend the rest of the night at the cottage. He asked his sister to drop him off at the Romano’s villa, said good night, and went in to take care of some business.

The days passed quickly since her father’s funeral. According to Sofia, her father and grandma went to Rome to handle some business. Leila hadn’t seen them since the first dinner; they flew the same night. Leila and her cousin spent their time hanging out downtown, at the villa, or at the cottage. She learned many things about Sofia during the last few days.

Her cousin was an artist who loved spending hours in her studio getting a certain painting done. She never painted people; she only painted trees, mountains, objects, and places. She also loved her hometown and wasn’t thinking of going anywhere as a change. She was the daughter of the Romano family; she knew everyone, and everyone knew her. She was full of life in comparison to Leila, who was calm and absent-minded most of the time due to the recent events that plagued her life.

“Let’s go to the harbor,” suggested Sofia when they were sitting at Scala de Turchi.

“Why?” asked Leila.

“I don’t know, you’ve never been there,” answered Sofia.

Leila was cooperative, so she agreed with whatever Sofia suggested most of the time without questioning anything. The harbor was less crowded than the other places; there were a lot of boats, yachts, and some fishermen who sold fish, but definitely fewer tourists. Sofia was silent for the first time; she

didn’t try to explain the history or even point at the yachts and say who their owners were.

She seemed as if she was looking for something or someone. Leila, on the other hand, was enjoying the quiet demeanor her cousin maintained and cared less as to why they came there. They were walking for about ten minutes when Carlo jumped out of one of the yachts.

“Oh, it’s Carlo!” said Sofia, faking a surprised face, “Carlo, Carlo,” she shouted while running towards him.

“Sofia!” he murmured to himself.

“What a happy coincidence! What are you doing here?” Sofia asked when she was close enough.

“What are YOU doing here?” he replied angrily. “Hi Carlo,” said Leila, greeting.

“Hi,” he replied coldly, then gazed back at his little sister.

At that moment, a big man emerged from the yacht accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman who looked like a model.

“Hi Sofia!” he said with a smile.

“Oh, ‘Luca’! You’re here!” exclaimed Sofia in excitement. “Yes, I came back yesterday,” the man replied.

“Luca’s town, does that mean?” Whispered Sofia

“It means nothing; can you leave now?” replied Carlo.

“Ok, I will. This is a complete coincidence, brother,” said Sofia reassuringly.

“Good,” sighed Carlo in relief.

Sofia liked teasing her brother but hated making him very angry. “Luca! I’ll see you around,” said Sofia.

“Leaving already?” inquired Luca in his attractive English accent. “Yes, gotta show my cousin how beautiful Sciacca is,” she answered.

Upon hearing that word “Cousin,” Luca’s gaze shifted from Sofia to the girl standing shyly behind her. They locked eyes, and for a second, he could swear that he saw her or met her before; she was very familiar.

“Cousin!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, Uncle Romeo’s daughter,” she explained.

Luca fixated his gaze on the girl as if his small eyes could pierce her soul. He was tall; about six foot four, although not very handsome, very attractive, charismatic, and manly. He had brown hair, a wheaty skin complexion, small piercing eyes, and unlike all English men, full lips. He wasn’t Italian; Leila could tell; he looked English and spoke in a perfect English accent.

“Ok, we gotta go! It was nice seeing you Luca! Bye,” said Sofia, breaking the silence and running away from her brother’s bad temper.

“He doesn’t look Italian,” Leila commented after they left the harbor.