Chapter 7

When Dusty imagined the Coliseum in Rome, she pictured a grand, historic structure similar to the one on the film Gladiator. She anticipated that it would be so large in scale that she'd have to crane her neck to see the top of it. The reality was far removed from what she'd conjured up in her mind. The Coliseum, or rather what remained of it, was within the city but surrounded by busy, frantic roads, offering a strange juxtaposition of the modern city against the historic remains.

"It doesn't seem that impressive." Ashley frowned as they exited the taxi.

"No, it doesn't," Dusty agreed sadly.

The landmark in Paris and London had been whole and intact, retaining their awe-inspiring grandeur. Seeing the remains of what had once been an architectural wonder made Dusty feel strangely sad. What if all great things would one day be reduced to this? A glorified roundabout of ancient stones?

"I just thought it would be... bigger," Ashley said softly, trying not to rain on the parade of sightseeing.

"Me too," Dusty agreed. They looked out at what remained of the Coliseum and tried to imagine how it had once been. How the circular seating would have reached up to the heavens and how the roar of the eager crowd would be carried on the soft wind for miles around.

"I bet it was great once," Ashley said.

"Yeah." Dusty nodded and was blindsided by a thought of Kyera. Things with her had been great once. There was a time when their relationship was like the Coliseum in its heyday, huge and all encompassing. It was all she could think about, all she cared about. But now the relationship lay in ruins, no longer as impressive, losing its strength and allure. Thinking about it made her feel impossibly sad.

"Let's go have dinner somewhere!" Ashley declared brightly, noticing how her friend's face had dropped. "And it must be Italian! After all, when in Rome," she joked, and Dusty managed to smile a little.

****

They settled upon a small bistro close to their hotel. Even though dusk was fast approaching, the city retained its heat, and most restaurants seated a majority of their patrons outside, creating a bustling atmosphere upon the streets of Rome. The girls were shown to a small table for two that overlooked a busy street.

Around them, couples and families were already dining, tucking in to great bowls of pasta. A handsome waiter with jet-black hair and deep brown eyes came to take their order. He greeted them in Italian, and Ashley instantly waved her hand to stop him.

"We're American. I'm sorry, but we don't speak any Italian." Even though she had said she was sorry, she certainly didn't sound it.

"Okay, American, great," he said in surprisingly fluent English, flashing them a dazzling smile, which made Ashley blush slightly. "I am Ricardo. I will be your waiter," he introduced himself, with Ashley hanging on his every word. "If there is anything you need, just let me know." He smiled, and as he turned and walked away, Ashley made sure to admire the view.

"Ashley!" Dusty berated her friend. "Behave! This is a man-free zone, remember?"

"I'm avoiding men, not dead," Ashley retorted. "And Ricardo is delicious! Shame he isn't on the menu!" Keeping within the native theme, both Ashley and Dusty chose rich pasta dishes from the menu, accompanied by a locally grown red wine. One bottle led to two, and as darkness fell over the city, the girls were quite tipsy, edging on drunk.

"We need to have some fun!" Ashley declared, though she felt heavy and sedated by the amount of pasta she had consumed.

"We are having fun."

"No, we need to go out! We need to dance!"

"Okay, where?" Dusty squinted at her friend. "We don't know where to go here."

"True, but Ricardo will." Ashley fluttered her eyelashes seductively at the waiter when he returned with their bill. She all but purred her question at him while Dusty shriveled with embarrassment. "We want to go out dancing," she told him. "Like a club. Where's a good place to go round here?" Ricardo smiled coyly, enjoying the attention. He told them about a club close by that was always busy and open until dawn. "Sounds perfect," Ashley told him, sounding as sexy as she could. "Might we see you there later?"

"Maybe," he replied in his accent, matching Ashley in the flirtation stakes.

"He is really cute!" Ashley enthused as they walked away from the bistro in the direction of the club.

"What happened to the no-men policy?" Dusty asked, struggling to pronounce the last word, the effects of the wine really starting to kick in.

"I'm lonely," Ashley answered with surprising honesty. "I hate and love men in equal measure. And I want to find somebody. Is that so wrong?"

"No, there's nothing wrong with that," Dusty consoled her.

"Though I hate to break it to you, but I don't think that Ricardo is your somebody."

"Gosh no!" Ashley shook her head. "I don't know enough Spanish to marry him."

"Italian," Dusty corrected her.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Ricardo is just a bit of fun," Ashley declared, smiling to herself. "We all deserve to have a bit of fun." They arrived at the club that was already pulsating with loud, dance music neither of them recognized.

"Are we going in?" Dusty asked tentatively, the walk through town beginning to strip her of her drunken haze.

"Absolutely," Ashley declared decisively, pulling them both into the club. They danced until the sun rose, until their feet ached and the dancers around them blurred into one. As Dusty emerged into the early morning light, her ears and head throbbing from the effects of the club, she groaned and realized how wretched she would soon be feeling. In the club, they had eagerly downed vodka shots, bought for them by Ricardo, who had appeared a few hours after them, joined by some friends.

Ashley had been delighted, dancing with him on the dance floor, grinding up against him during the slower songs. Dusty wasn't in the mood for attention, so she'd continued to dance close by, too drunk to care that she was dancing alone. She understood Ashley's desire to have fun, to flirt with guys and be carefree, but Dusty couldn't follow suit. Her heart was still too bruised to dare letting anyone get close to it.

"I am so tired," Ashley declared as she stumbled out of the club, Ricardo holding her up.

"Careful," he said, looking down at her. Dusty felt a pang of jealousy when she saw them, which she instantly hated herself for. But she missed being looked at like that. Ashley might have said that Ricardo was just a bit of fun, but he clearly thought more highly of her than that.

"Where is your hotel?" he asked in his thick accent, looking concerned.

"It's this way." Dusty pointed down a familiar-looking street, struggling to believe that a new day was beginning when she hadn't even concluded the last one. It felt surreal, as though she was living beyond the realms of the real world. Ricardo and his friends escorted the girls back to their hotel. All the while Ricardo and Ashley talked about films they loved and songs they enjoyed. They seemed to have a lot in common. Outside the foyer of the small hotel, Dusty thanked the guys for walking them back.

"Can I see you again?" Ricardo asked Ashley, his eyes wide and intense.

"Sure." She smiled shyly at him. He kissed her cheek and then handed her a small slip of paper upon which he'd written a love note and his number. As Dusty watched, she felt a lump form in her throat, it was one of the most romantic moments she'd ever witnessed, and it was so completely unexpected. She smiled to herself, glad that her friend was happy, glad that Ashley had briefly broken the no-man rule.