Hooked

By A W Clarke

Victoria has it all. She is bright, beautiful and the envy of her colleagues. Yet, despite her success, she knows deep down something is missing. On a leisurely trip to Italy, she meets with destiny in a way that will change her life forever. Destiny being a gorgeous man atop a motorcycle. Mateo is everything Victoria is not. He sees the beauty of life in a way she doesn’t. Against her better judgement, Victoria steps into Mateo’s world. She will never be the same. Experience the passion, regret, and rediscovery that sends a young woman's heart on a roller coaster ride of emotion. This book contains sexual content and situations suitable only for mature readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 25, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329506497

Book preview

Hooked

Hooked

A. W. Clarke

2015

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

Hooked Copyright © 2015 by A. W. Clarke. All rights reserved.

First Printing 2015

ISBN  978-1-329-50649-7

Distributed by lulu.com.

For details, comments, or inquiries, the author can be reached via email:

[e-mail]

A.W. Clarke is on Facebook. You can also visit www.awclarkenovels.com for author info, musings, and other releases.

Introduction

Throughout the course of our lives, we are often met with the opportunity to make important decisions. Each bares an outcome which can affect our lives profoundly. Fuelling these decisions may be the promise of venerable rewards: success, happiness, or the promise of true love. However, life is not merely the goal we set, or the reward we seek, but the journey unto it all. Enter the journey, of Victoria Lafelle.

Part one: Discovery

Chapter 1

It was early September. The air carried with it a signature of change. Cooler weather was settling in as the fragrance of leaves bearing distinct hues of red and orange passed by the open door of the Boeing 777.

Benvenuti in Italia! Enjoy your stay! addressed the flight attendant as the passengers stepped off the plane and onto the deck stairs.

Victoria loved the fall. It was magical. It was mysterious. This trip held what she hoped would be an adventure from her regular routine.

But it wasn’t a thought to indulge in, for today was the first day of her late summer vacation and she had much to do. She needed to check in at her hotel and then promptly assess the nearby attractions and guest services.

But most of all, she came to Pisa to acquaint herself with the rich history and architecture that Italy had to offer. Victoria took a deep breath of the autumn Italian air and exhaled.  She was eager to stretch her legs after a cramped eight hour flight.

Victoria was tall and gorgeous, witty and adaptable. But most of all, she was a master of professionalism. Over the years she had worked with large companies, coaching her client base on how to grasp fundamental concepts in efficiency, productivity, and goal achievement. She had worked with both small organizations and million dollar companies. Her finely honed intellect led her to find attainable solutions for clients big and small by using techniques in analysis and calculative methodology.

But it was time for Victoria to take a break from her work and explore the one thing she has never been able to master…the path leading to her destiny.

The short ride into Pisa was filled with lots to see. Victoria noticed the distinct charm of Italy's carved stonework and cobbled roads, lined with locals sitting in outdoor cafes. Life appeared more relaxed in Italy compared to the maladroit bustle of her home in the west. Upon her arrival at the hotel, she tipped the cabby and attendant for bringing her cases to the lobby and checked in.

Welcome, Ms. Lafelle, greeted the desk clerk.

Your room is ready. Should you have any questions, please let us know. Enjoy your stay.

The clerk handed Victoria the key card to her fifth floor suite and tapped the service bell for a porter to gather her luggage. Upon exiting the elevator, the porter led her to her room at the end of the hall.

Buona giornata, bid the porter as he pocketed his gratuity and disappeared down the hall.

Room 508 was modest yet cozy.  Victoria loved the intricately trimmed white walls and sloped ceiling leading to a small balcony draped in soft linens.

She tossed her cell phone and key card on the twin sized bed and walked over to the balcony. Opening the door, she was met with the lively rumble of Vespas and chatter of cafe patrons not far away.

Victoria had arrived in Italy.  For the next seven days she was going to seek refuge in its old world charm. But not tonight. She readied the pillows, changed into her pajamas and cuddled in bed for a much needed night’s sleep.

Victoria woke well rested for her first morning in Italy. After gathering her comfortable hiking shoes and putting her hair in a ponytail, she donned her favorite jeans and a light sweater.  She then headed to the lobby to ask the desk clerk for breakfast ideas.

He mentioned a fabulous bakery a block south of the hotel where she could enjoy an authentic morning meal. She thanked him and strode down the walkway to Forno del Sole where the smell of fresh baked bread greeted her at the door.

She placed her order at the counter and a cheery Italian employee pointed to the outdoor deck where she could take her coffee and wait for her order to arrive.

Taking a seat on the fenced deck, Victoria noticed the rich activity of citizens with places to go.  Her eyes roamed over the masses of young and old customers seated in other cafes, discussing life's trials and pleasures.

A short time later, the lady at the counter brought over her breakfast: a cheese stuffed ciabatta bun alongside two poached eggs and a fresh orange slice. On a separate plate beside her coffee was a cannoli for dessert. The waitress smiled and headed back inside.

After many relaxing sips of coffee and a full tummy, Victoria headed into downtown Pisa with a few Euros in her pocket and a camera in hand. She marvelled at the stonework adorning various buildings as well as the intricacies of the road's construction under her feet. She sat by a water fountain and tossed in a coin from her home country. She made a wish and moved on to the next attraction.

Victoria boarded a tour bus and sat on the upper deck alongside an elderly lady and a younger woman. As the bus wound through its familiar route through the streets of Pisa, the tour guide pointed out the splendor of the city's most intriguing architectural structure: the famous leaning tower. Snapping picture after picture, she soon noticed the Piazza del Duomo, the Cathedral of Pisa with its herculean columns and impressive bronze doors. Other than the historic Catholic cathedral in her home city, nothing compared to the statuesque and inspiring design of such a monument.

In the excitement of the tour, Victoria had skipped lunch and felt hungry by early evening. After heading back to the hotel, she inquired the clerk about recommended establishments in the vicinity for dinner.

Tell you what, suggested the clerk, if you take a cab or hop on a Vespa and head down along the river to Via Tullio, you will arrive at the water's edge.  There you will find restaurants with delicious foods and the most spectacular sunset ever seen, exclaimed the jovial man with a twinkle in his eye, as he flourished his hands about in the air.

That sounds like a plan. Victoria thanked the helpful clerk, signed some forms, and hopped on one of the hotel's many Vespa scooters out back. She chose the bright yellow machine.

Yellow was her favorite color, not that anyone would know. She didn't divulge too much of her personal life to just anyone. If people really knew her, they would be surprised by what truly moved her.  Their usually stoic friend and colleague thirsted for something more than the mundane routine that was her life.  She dreamed of adventure. However Victoria wasn’t really the adventurous sort-yet she thought, as she narrowed her eyes down at the bike before her very determined that that was about to change.

After a brief lesson in bike operation, the attendant sparked up the scooter and within minutes Victoria rode off carefully down the road. After a few stops to refer to her map, she made her way along the scenic winding river and out to the promenade.

Emerging in the clearing, she cast her eyes on a beautiful ocean which touched the boardwalk and a beach dotted with cafes and restaurants facing the west. She pulled over and shut off the tiny engine, removed her helmet, and strolled leisurely along the cement walkway in search of dinner.

After a brief walk, the discerning tourist came upon a small stucco faced building named the Ristorante Cliffe. The small establishment had a striped overhang, which sheltered a dozen or so tables and chairs on a patio for patrons who indulged in the beautiful ocean view across the street.

Victoria went in and ordered a heaping plate of spaghetti and sautéed shrimp in pomodoro sauce. She took in not only the sumptuous meal, but the views of ocean waves bumping leisurely against the rocky breakwater.  As her eyes drank in the scene before her, she noticed someone sitting on a nearby bench also taking in the very same view.  Her lips tilted up in a slight smile, no longer feeling quite so alone at the table.

She was in love with this land. It was so rich and beautiful in many ways. It’s scenery so breathtaking. The people who lived here established and upheld a culture so extraordinary. A philosophy of the old and new mixed together at a snail’s pace. The country indeed ran on its own terms, and not under the harassment of speed or technology like the hasty societies of the western world.

As she scooped up the last shrimp from her plate, Victoria noticed the sun's slow decent into the sky, marking the end of another day. She thanked the owner personally for the tasty meal and headed over to the scooter.

With helmet on, she leaned over and stepped on the kick starter.  Nothing. Over and over she spun the engine and the stubborn Vespa refused to start.

The first sign of trouble on my vacation, muttered Victoria impatiently.

A few more kicks of the starter and again nothing.  She looked at the rapidly setting sun and people sauntering in the other direction down the boardwalk.  It was getting chilly and the beach getting more desolate.  She tried the kick starter one more time.  The bike sputtered once and fell silent.  Victoria felt a chill run up her spine.

She was stranded.

Chapter 2

The choke, yelled a voice over her shoulder. Pull the choke.

Victoria turned around and saw a man looking over at her, gesturing some sort of technical procedure with one hand. She tossed her hands out in confusion and sighed at him.

A moment later, he got up from the cement bench and slowly walked over. 

Who was this man? Victoria noticed his stride. It was slow and carefree. Confidence exuded from his sculpted chin and shoulders. He was dark in complexion, perhaps from many a day under some Spanish sun. His ivory colored shirt hung loose, held together by only a few buttons.  His sleeves were rolled up, indicative of a man not afraid to work with his hands. His sandals appeared worn, perhaps from many walks to this very place, she thought.  She suddenly remembered that he was the kindred spirit she saw sitting on the bench outside the restaurant.

He pulled off his sunglasses and crouched down to examine the little scooter as if it were an ill patient.

When an engine cools down and the air becomes colder, you need to close the choke flap. It makes the engine easier to start... Excuse me. 

He proceeded to nudge Victoria aside and set the choke lever on, while kicking the starter. The little bike would not spring to life.

It's flooded. You have to let it sit for a while. Come and have a seat with me and we can try again later.

Victoria was not the type to let anyone do anything for her. She possessed a strong work ethic and at times her fiercest critic was herself. But seeing as how she was half way across the world and knew nothing about scooter engines, she decided to make his acquaintance.

My name is Mateo. Have a seat. He smiled as he slowly sat down on the bench. 

Seated side by side they both had a perfect view of the ocean, the sun sinking deeper into the horizon.

And what is your name? he asked.

Victoria. Thanks for your help, by the way, she replied with a shy smile.

Don’t thank me until I have done something for you. He smiled and held something out. Would you like a cannoli? I just made them this afternoon. Victoria loved cannolis.

I just ate. Thank you.

Go on. I don't want the last one. You have it.

Well, ok. Thanks. You're very kind.

You're welcome. he replied, and cracked a warm quarter smile in the dusky sunlight.

Isn't it beautiful? asked Mateo as he nodded towards the distance.

What? replied Victoria.  This man thoroughly distracted her.

The sunset, he whispered as his eyes gazed at the scene before him.  It looks so warm tonight and the water is so calm. It’s like a torch over a sheet of glass. Just beautiful.

Victoria noticed that Mateo had a way with words. She loved to analyze everything. She noticed how when this man spoke, he did not cast a shallow coating over his words. He did not muster an elusive charm when talking to a stranger. He was straightforward and honest. He called things as he saw them, and did so in a smooth and relaxed manner.

Although she noticed these things, Victoria was taken in most by his eyes. They were a deep brown color, and edged by the most charming temple creases when he smiled at her. His eyes bore a window to his soul. A soul that appeared passionate yet peaceful. She noticed his hands. They were large and firm, yet had a rugged texture to them as if possessed by that of a hard working craftsman. A craftsman with hands skilled enough to work on machines. 

Yet ginger enough to bake cannolis? she thought skeptically.  Victoria chuckled at the thought for a moment and hid it immediately, as it would be difficult to explain herself if questioned.

Are you far from home? asked Mateo.

Yes and no, she responded. I am about fifteen minutes up the river.

Mateo looked a bit puzzled at first, then laughed and responded. Ok then…let's see if we can get that little machine going.

They walked over to the Vespa and tried to start the engine. It puffed and snorted but refused to run. 

The plug must be wet. I can fix it for you if you like.

How much will that cost?   Victoria inquired.

Nothing. This is easy to do. I don't mind. I just need to get a wrench from my workshop. I’m a few minutes away. Would you like to come for a ride?

Victoria was bewildered. Who was this mystery man she met not an hour ago and why was he being so nice to her? Could he be that man all women dreamed of?  Calm, caring, selfless… and good looking?

Stop it, she thought to herself, with a slight chuckle. This guy is obviously just being helpful. After all, he didn’t look busy, sitting on the bench earlier. Victoria remained cautious of the supportive stranger though. But for some reason she wanted to do something illogical for the first time in her life. She wanted adventure!  That’s why she was in Italy, right? Her internal conflict ended as quickly as it began. 

Victoria decided right then and there that if she wanted change, she was going to have to embrace it when it came her way.  Yet none the less, she was still a little surprised by the words that came out of her mouth. 

Ok, sure. Which way are we walking?  The words awkwardly stumbled out of her mouth and a slight blush covered her cheeks.

No no, chuckled Mateo. "If we walk, we'll get back after nightfall. Come this way. We'll use my bike."

He led her back across the street and carefully helped her onto his machine.

Wow. What is this? Victoria asked curiously.

It’s a Ducati. One of my favorites, returned Mateo.

One of? she uttered curiously.  This time, the stranger outright laughed.

Mateo helped Victoria with her helmet strap and then put on his own gear. He righted his bike and kick started it to life. With the engine warming up, Victoria admired the machine. She was never a fan of bikes but noticed, as with many classical structures in Italy, this machine was not of modern times.

Mateo noticed her staring. 

It’s a sixty seven. A Mach One. It’s a classic. I like classic things. They are timeless and beautiful, not like those plastic things that come and go nowadays.

He returned the choke lever, revved up the now warm engine, and whisked them both down the road to his workshop.

Victoria rode nervously at first, then more comfortably as she got used to the position behind her driver on the little Ducati.  They travelled the ocean side road before entering the town of Tirrenia.

Soon the ocean disappeared and was replaced with lush trees and a quaint community of small homes and apartments nestled together on the Via dei Castagni. He turned into his driveway and pulled up to the door of a small shed beside a group of three old stone houses joined together. 

I'll be back in a moment. Do you want anything to drink? asked Mateo.

No thank you. I’m fine.

She watched as he walked into the shed, and emerged with a lighter and a couple of wrenches.

Ok, let's head back, he said.

Within minutes, they returned to the dead Vespa. Victoria watched curiously as Mateo removed the engine's spark plug. He was as delicate as a surgeon attending an ailing patient. He sniffed the spark plug and nodded, confirming his diagnosis. He then carefully held it by one end as he set the flame of his lighter on the electrode for several seconds.

Watching this, Victoria was intrigued. Here was someone who did not need analysis charts and probability theories to diagnose a problem. Perhaps he employed a measure of years of mechanical experience. Perhaps it was just dumb luck. The confidence in his face assured her of the prior.

Mateo then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the hot electrode, then wound it back in with the old wrench. He placed the plug wire back onto the plug and turned on the ignition. He stepped on the kick starter, however, not without first looking at Victoria and cracking a sweet, assertive smile.

Like a human brought back from the dead, the little Vespa crackled to life, its engine purring smoothly as it warmed up in the evening air.

Victoria started to smile. 

I guess now that you've done something for me, I can thank you, she kidded.

You are most welcome, laughed Mateo.

After putting on her helmet, Victoria noticed Mateo gazing out at the sunset.  The sun was now past the horizon and painted a warm red canvas across the sky.

I love sunsets too, she said hopping on the little bike. She took a quick breath then flipped the kickstand, ready to pull away.

Do you need me to follow you back just in case? asked Mateo.

Not necessary. I'll be fine. Thank you for helping me today.  I appreciate it. Nice meeting you, Mateo, she said in an uncertain voice she rarely used.

Nice to meet you too, he replied.  He shook her hand, that unique smile playing on his face.

Victoria responded with a tight grin.  With a nod of her head, she swallowed hard and sped away.  She was very uncomfortable with the feelings of doubt sitting in the pit of her stomach.  Although she felt proud of herself for taking the plunge, she didn’t expect the other strange emotions also churning inside.  What feelings? She demanded.  Victoria, you’re just not used to being rescued by anyone.  Stop being stupid, you just met the guy! she reprimanded herself.

Victoria didn't like to depend on other people. She was strong. She was professional. She was adaptable. Today she had no choice but to let one of her walls down, but once up and running, it was back to her usual self. With the engine running again, she rode the Vespa along the river road back to her hotel. She turned in the keys, headed up to her suite and had room service bring her up a tea. She decided to sip it out on the balcony.

It was her second night in Italy. It was unusually quiet. The stars soon acquired their places in the sky. As she took another sip of tea, she gazed out far over the horizon to where her journey had become interesting. She replayed her conversations with the mysterious man on the bench. He was sweet, confident and intriguing. She wanted adventure, but she wasn’t sure if that included Mateo.

Victoria slipped into bed and stared up at the ceiling.  Her mouth tensed and she pursed her lips together.  She took a deep breath, convinced that she was making the right decision.  The fear residing in her stomach was gone and