Sidestory:
Purely By Accident
by Angie and V.
A few cars managed to pass her, drivers shaking their heads in disapproval or arching eyebrows in benign amusement. Oblivious to the spectacle she had managed to create, Elena merely turned up the volume on the stereo. A wailing falsetto demanded to be taken to Paradise City against a backdrop of drums, bass, and electric guitar, so she joined in. A stoplight gave her the opportunity to reapply scarlet lipstick and grin at her reflection in the mirror. 'Pretty girl,' she thought to herself with a giggle. A day off from work had allowed her to sleep in late, go for a round with the punching bag, and spend the midafternoon shopping. With the weekend ahead and the promise of a basketball game to watch that night, it was impossible for the day to go wrong.
"...where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, oh won't you please take me ho-ome, yeah-yeah..." Fingers drummed against the steering wheel as Elena nodded in time to the bassline. The light changed colors, and she hit the gas to speed off towards her next destination, which would probably include a cup of coffee and the chance to read over the newest issue of Car and Driver she'd bought that morning.
Unfortunately for both Elena and her precious car, the vehicle in the next lane over carried a very bored, very annoyed Nunzio Moreno. He really could never be bothered to learn how to drive himself and, really, what was the point when your employers paid for drivers but sometimes it galled him to be dependent on some nameless lackey for movement. Yawning, he shrugged and looked out the window. Italian traffic was a nightmare, though; he wouldn't want to drive in it at all. Perhaps a driver was worth the little hassles.
Suddenly, the dark-haired man straightened in his seat, locking his eyes on the woman in the next car. Pretty thing. Dark hair, red lips, and cleavage. Mmm, distraction. Leaning forward, he tapped the driver's shoulder. "Follow her," he murmured. "We have time."
"Yes, sir." Immediately obedient, the car swung behind Elena's, keeping a close tail.
Oblivious to her follower, Elena continued to belt out lyrics in time with Axel as cars began to move once more. She propped an elbow on the door, fingers waving idly in the wind as she continued towards the coffee shop. Some tourist - she could tell by the plates as well as the insipid way his passenger kept pointing at a map - came to a sudden stop, and she swerved into the open left lane with the finesse of a Formula One driver. Chuckling, she hit the gas and sped off past them.
The following car also swerved, duplicating her maneuver with somewhat less finesse. "Lose her and I'll have a few words with Antonio," Zio murmured. The driver swallowed and paid closer attention.
Elena changed lanes again, stopping at the next light. Leaning over in her seat, she reached for the magazine and her purse.
"Hit her."
"But, Signore Moreno, I..."
"Do it." Zio settled himself back into his seat and pulled on his seat belt. "Just a little bit." He smiled to himself. "She's being a reckless driver and better us than some true maniac."
"But..."
His voice went cold. "Do it."
Gulping, the driver nodded and ducked his head, bracing himself. It was going to kill him to put a scratch on that gorgeous car. Then, with a breath, he edged his car forward until he heard a sickening cry of car on car. Slamming on the brakes, he dropped his head to the wheel and cursed softly.
"Good boy." Immediately, undoing his seat belt, Zio pushed his door open and practically leapt from the car, his face set in his best concerned expression.
Elena had been thrown forward only slightly, but the knowledge that someone had managed to hit HER Baby while she was resting peacefully at a stoplight prompted a rage unequaled by most drivers. "Son of a bitch," she swore, sitting up and unbuckling her seatbelt. With the absence of any ladylike grace or speech, she threw herself out of the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. A handful of steps, and she came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a half-meter dent in the rear left of her car, coupled with streaks of paint from the assailant's vehicle. Livid, she fixed her gaze on the approaching man.
"Did you NOT see the stoplight? The other lane was completely clear, why didn't you just pull alongside rather than do a piss-poor job of diving behind me so that you could do this?" She jabbed a finger at the damage. "This, this is just... " Elena trailed off, fixated on the wounds inflicted upon her Baby. "Poor thing," she cooed softly to the car. "El's gonna get you fixed, don't you worry."
"I'll pay, of course, signorina." Zio appeared at her elbow, hands held palm-up in a gesture of submission. "I'm truly sorry," he murmured, voice smooth and rich, calculated to undercut the angry yells. "It was my driver. Please. Allow me to make restitution."
She snorted, her hand on the dent. "I don't want your money," she snapped, her voice lowering to a disgruntled yet even tone. "I can fix her myself. Maybe you should get your driver to take some lessons so he doesn't do the same to someone else on the road." A swift glance at his car found little damage. 'Figures,' she thought to herself.
"Please." Stepping closer, Zio touched a gentle hand to the bumper of her car. If his fingers happened to brush hers, surely it was an accident. "Allow me to make it right." He smiled gently, warmth in his eyes. "I'd hate to think you cursed me in your prayers at night, bella."
To her surprise, Elena managed a laugh. "My mother told me to never ask for misfortunes, but to pray that the misguided might learn so that they might not cause others to suffer. I suppose I'll be offering petitions for you for quite some time..." She stopped, the corner of her mouth twitching with a smile. "Is there a certain name for whom I should offer those prayers for better driving skills?"
Taking her hand gently, he ducked a small, teasing bow over it. "Nunzio Moreno and completely charmed. You are?"
Elena couldn't stop the field of crimson that washed over her cheeks as her hand disappeared in his. "Elena Majella," she managed, a shyness edging her voice that was rather un-Healy-ish. "And not nearly as upset as I was initially." She beamed at him, almost stupidly, forgetting that her car was blocking the right turn lane of traffic.
"So your beauty is indeed matched by your benevolence." Still smiling fit to melt ice, Zio brushed the lightest of kisses over her knuckles before finally releasing her. "And you encourage me to press my luck. Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me, Elena?"
'Do what? He hit your CAR!' screamed the voice inside her head. More compliments made her head swim, and she blushed even deeper. "Dinner? That's really not necessary, Signore Moreno," she protested, stammering like a schoolgirl asked on a first date. "The damage isn't that bad, truth be told, and I'm sure anything can happen when one's dealing with Rome's afternoon traffic, and... " She stopped, giving him an unintentionally endearing smile that reeked of innocent charm. What would it hurt to indulge an apologetic gentleman with a dinner date, she reasoned. It was a far better outcome than a snarly exchange of business cards and insurance information. "I might be able to manage that," she flirted back, brushing nonexistent strands of hair away from her face.
"If you can, then I am indeed fortunate." Straightening, he reached into the breast pocket of his suit and withdrew a slim silver case with an engraved NVM. With a deft flick, he opened it and extracted a business card. Then he handed it over with another slight bow. "My card, Elena," he purred. "May I trouble you for yours? I'll need to call you at least once to sustain me before our dinner."
Elena glanced at the card briefly, not really reading the words, titles, or phone numbers. "No trouble whatsoever," she replied with a wink. Without bothering to open the car door, she attempted to grab the black leather bag resting on the front seat. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out one of her own cards from the special little pocket next to her cell phone. "My card. Useful not only for preliminary dinner conversation, but also for those who might be interested in tours of either Maserati showroom during the week," she added, dimple showing in her cheek in an oh-so-endearing fashion. A pause, and Elena hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her black pants as she re-examined the damage. "It's not too bad," she offered after a moment, bending over to reveal bright red underwear as she rubbed some of the paint off of the dent with her index finger. "Are you and your driver all right?"
"More than fine." To his credit, Zio only stole a momentary peek at the view offered unawares. To his non-credit, though, it was only because he had already decided that he would see about getting a far better look later. Smiling broadly, he placed a hand against the corner of his car's hood, careful to avoid any heated metal, and leaned comfortably as he studied the card in his other hand. Connivingly rakish? Who, him? Never. "Signorina Healy," he murmured, voice like velvet. "So you give personal tours?"
Blissfully ignorant of her companion's current studies or his plans for further exploration, she stood back up and flipped her hair out of her face. "Only of the showroom," she countered in a playful tone. "Other personal tours are usually scheduled on an as-needed basis, dependent purely upon the needs of each individual." A throaty chuckle followed the reply, Elena leaning back against her own car to mirror her companion. "Would you like one?"
"I would love one." He beamed. "I'd give up a Chagall for one. Perhaps I could talk you into some sort of personal tour?"
She laughed. He had such a nice smile, she decided. "It wouldn't take much talking into," she replied, thinking of her next day at the showroom. "I'll be back in my office at the dealership the day after next. Might that fit into your busy schedule?"
"I'll make it fit for you, bella. However, I don't think I can survive that long without your company." Idly, Zio ran a long-fingered hand through his dark hair, mussing it artfully. A lock slipped and drooped over a straight eyebrow. "When will you allow me to take you to dinner? Tonight?"
'Tonight?' Elena immediately thought of her beloved Wildcats and her plans to spend the night cheering them on. "I'm not sure about tonight," she replied thoughtfully, chewing her lip. "One second..." She snatched up a slim black leather portfolio, flipping through to the calendar. In neat blue script, the word 'Notre Dame' was written. A quick decision, one made easier by the fact that the Fighting Irish were currently unranked and had been trounced earlier in the season by some no-name team. She could tape the game and watch it tomorrow over breakfast. Elena winked at the young man, snapping her portfolio shut. "Tonight would be lovely."
The Italian beamed. "Perfect. Shall we say seven o'clock?" His grey eyes shone teasingly; he was having fun with this girl and planned on having more. Sweet thing, all sorts of delicious contrasts. "Hmm, how do you feel about... Italian?"
Elena arched an eyebrow playfully, countless replies on the tip of her tongue. "We most certainly shall say seven o'clock," she began, tucking the portfolio under her arm. "As for how I feel about Italian..." She wrinkled her nose as she giggled, eyes dancing. "I'm entertaining your dinner invitation, so one could assume that I'm partial to fine Italian cuisine." Mom would have been proud of that one, she thought to herself mischievously. "Where shall we meet?"
Pointing to a café across the road, Zio chuckled. "Why not commemorate our place of meeting, bella? I believe that place does good meals."
She bobbed her head in agreement. "Why not? I'll see you this evening then, Signore Moreno." She paused, tongue idly tracing over her lower lip as she thought of how to explain to Papa Ianniello that she needed to do body work on Baby the next day.
"Wonderful." Zio's grin widened wolfishly at her thoughtless behavior. "I'll see you then. It's years 'til seven." With a final gallant bow, the older man retreated to his car. Baited, hooked, soon to be landed. Closing the door and unheard by his latest interest, Zio Moreno murmured to his driver. "There'll be a bonus for you, mio amica. Drive on. We've got an appointment to keep."
Silently, the car pulled away, passing the dark haired woman beside her car.
Elena was already on her cell phone, waving sweetly at the car that had done such damage to her beloved vehicle. He seemed like a gentleman, playful yet discrete, and certainly polite. She couldn't fault him for something that his driver had done, given the traffic and the time of day, and, "Vivianna? Elena. I'm trying to find Paolo, there's this..." Cut off by the phone transfer, she waited patiently against the car, motioning for traffic to pass her. "Papa Ianniello? Elena. Listen, could you book me some time in the shop tomorrow morning, maybe around eleven? Baby's got a dent and... I'm fine. Yes, really. No, nothing bad, just a little scratch, I can fix her." She shifted her weight to the other foot. "No, don't send 'Cenzo, it's fine. I can drive home, really," she protested. Another five minutes of reassureance and protest, and she snapped her phone shut.
She had a date tonight.
"So, of course, I had to rescue that painting. A man who chews with his mouth open doesn't deserve a Renoir in his home." Zio grinned, wine glass twirling idly between long fingers. "I'm sure you feel the same way if one of your cars goes home with someone who should obviously be driving a Yugo."
"Sometimes," Elena admitted, almost ashamed. "There aren't many people who can truly appreciate what a mix of artistry and machinery can do in the hands of a well-trained driver. Still, I try to remind myself that more and more people look to establish prestige with such a purchase, and that attitude follows the responsibility that one acquires when owning a luxury car." She refrained from another sip of wine, as she had felt her cheeks grow red long ago. Words flowed smoothly, but self-consciousness nagged at the corner of her mind as she crossed and recrossed her ankles underneath the chair.
Tilting his head, Zio smiled warmly. "You look gorgeous tonight, Elena," he murmured. Appreciatively, he took in her bared shoulders, teasing black dress, the sparkle of tanzanite here and there. "Stunning."
A field of crimson washed over her cheeks, Elena ducking her head at the compliment. "Thank you," she managed after a moment. "Then again," she offered, "it's an attempt to look presentable next to someone as dashing and cosmopolitan as yourself."
"Hardly," he returned mildly. "Anyone with eyes can see it's natural with you." Sliding in his chair, he changed his posture to more relaxed, slightly lazy, and chuckled. "Most of us have to work a bit harder to reach your effortless level."
She looked down at her lap, unable of how one should reply to such flattery. "I think you're giving my ability to wear clothing a lot of credit," she finally answered in a wry tone, lifting her head and resting her chin on her hand. "I'm curious, Signore Moreno. Why didn't you ever learn how to drive?"
He chuckled. "I'll answer that question if you stop the formalities. Elena, bella, we're here as friends. Not business people."
"My apologies," she offered, a dimple showing in her cheek. "Then, my dear Nunzio, why didn't you ever learn to drive? I can think of at least three or four lovely pieces of automotive artistry that would compliment such a charming personality and handsome image." White, probably.... or a sleek black, or maybe a stately grey. Nothing bright and garish for him, she decided.
"Well, since you were so fair..." Zio smiled and set down his wine glass. "I grew up rather... Lower class, shall we say? I studied and worked to get where I am. Few people in my neighborhood drove and it was a habit I fell into and kept."
She grinned at him, utterly enamoured by charm and honesty. "I see. For a second, I thought you were going to tell me that you'd had a chauffeur since you were able to walk." Elena winked, running her pinky finger over her lips as her chin rested in her palm. "I like your first answer much better."
He laughed, eyes teasing her. "You mean you like my honest answer best."
"Yes." It came across as soft, sincere, and innocent.
Softening, he leaned forward, one elbow on the table, and studied her carefully. She was just too sweet to be the tough business woman her credentials suggested. Intriguing. "You know, Elena, you really are a fascinating woman."
A dark eyebrow arched and she frowned, confused. "Why do you say that? I don't come across as vanilla and ever so slightly dull?"
"Of course not. Perish the thought." Zio smiled, amused at her obvious hesitancy over her own attributes. "Perhaps it's my sheltered area of expertise but I've never met a woman with such varied interests before."
Elena's expression became one of similar amusement. "You mean, you've never met a woman who knows the underside of a car as well as some might know the fall Prada line?" Playful sarcasm flavored her reply. "Nunzio, you've obviously been dining with the far more fragile of the species."
"You know my career, bella. You don't imagine I meet many women outside of the model and socialite categories, do you? It's a shame, really."
"They must be awfully high-maintenance," she mused aloud, El Healy coming through loud and clear with that remark. As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she pressed her lips together. That wasn't something to be said, she realized quickly. "I'm sorry," she apologized swiftly. "That wasn't very kind. I'm sure they're extremely nice, just on a different level."
"You were right both times, bella." Zio settled back in his chair and absently rolled his shoulders. "Lovely women but they are a completely different breed than you and I."
Elena laughed aloud, settling back in her chair. "Breed? You'd have someone believe I was some kind of Labrador retriever, Nunzio." She crossed her legs, right hand dangling over her knee.
He looked suitably horrified. "Dio mio, no. Never in a million years." A teasing smile replaced the former look and he nodded warmly at her. "More like a fine race horse."
Elena couldn't help but throw her head back and laugh. "How ironic," she drawled in southern-accented English, thinking of home with the equine comment. "I'll have you know, I don't run if I can help it," she commented, switching back to Italian with a wink. "That analogy might fit you far better. Driven, handsome, well-mannered..." She paused, chocolate brown eyes dancing. "Am I missing something?"
Ridden, bella. Haven't been ridden for a while. He merely grinned indulgently, his thoughts leaving no indication on his face. "You flatter me," he accused mildly.
"Truth is flattery?" Elena assumed an expression of mock horror, one hand on her collarbone in demure yet melodramatic accompaniment. "I'll have to start lying like a fine Persian rug, then."
"Expensive, tasteful, and beautiful? Yes, that suits you."
Something inside Elena twinged at the word 'expensive,' the corner of her mouth twitching as she failed to keep the completely pleasant and flirtatious expression on her face. Me, expensive? She'd always thought of herself as the 'low-maintenance' kind of woman, the kind that didn't need fancy gifts or materialisic displays of affection. What kind of aura had she managed to give off in the space of a few hours? Fingers found the pendant on her necklace. sliding it back and forth over the chain. "You think so?"
Quick grey eyes caught the minute movement of her mouth and Zio frowned internally. One of those words didn't sit well with her then? Her image of herself couldn't be that skewed to preclude beautiful. He was misfiring a bit more than usual; was it the woman or the recent sleepless nights? Leaning forward slightly, he rested an elbow on the table and then set his chin on the heel of his palm, long fingers bearing the trace of ancient hard-won callouses as the curved against his jaw. "I think," he announced slowly, "that you are entirely too modest, entirely too intriguing, and I would dearly love to take you out again some time."
He'd what? "I certainly hope it won't involve another accident in afternoon traffic," she flirted, hopelessly attempting to veil surprise and girlish giddiness with sarcasm. The little voice of reason begged to know why this obviously cultured and refined gentleman would want to see her again. She opened her mouth to ask 'why,' but pursed her lips instead, deciding that such things could be ascertained at a later date. "If we can keep the damage to my car to a minimum, then another evening spent together sounds lovely."
Raising his right hand solemnly, Zio nodded. "I swear on my mother's honor that I'll never hurt your car again."
Elena beamed, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. "Swearing's not necessary, but it's a lovely gesture. Was there a day you had in mind, or should I simply wait by my phone in breathless anticipation." She picked up her small handbag from near her feet.
"Most of my evenings are free, bella." Or they could be for you. Standing quickly, he moved to stand behind her chair, hands light on the back and ready to help her. "Which evenings are best for you?"
Elena glanced back, having never had someone help her with her chair in a purely social situation. "Um, they vary from week to week," she managed, standing up with more awkwardness than she had intended. "The next few weeks are pretty clear, though." Preseason basketball wasn't nearly as exciting as the midseason rivalries, so Elena figured she could invest in some more tapes for now. It could be worth the sacrifice.
His smile was brilliant and, as she cleared the table, he took her hand gently in his and raised it. "Then what would you say to a proper Friday night date?" he murmured. Brushing a kiss over her knuckles, he chuckled. "You can drive."
Three words that were music to Elena's ears. She gazed at him through long lashes as she purred a very content reply. "I would say that I will be more than happy to meet you Friday evening, Signore Moreno."
"Wonderful." Straightening, he smiled. "I'm a lucky man. Shall we say seven again?"
"We most certainly shall." She tilted her head to the side, beaming at him. "And thank you."
"No, Elena Healy." He ducked another bow over her hand before letting her go with seeming reluctance. "Thank you. I've had a lovely night."
She found herself at a loss for words, only able to give a demure smile that wrinkled the bridge of her nose. "Me too," Elena managed. She fumbled a bit for her keys, then glanced up in concern. "Do you need a ride? I mean, it wouldn't be any trouble," she offered.
"I'd hate to be a nuisance. I'll call a taxi, bella." His grey eyes shone with amusement and his smile was warm. "You just promise you'll get home safely and not let another man injure your car and beg for a date."
"I promise. Besides, there can't be that many charming men in Rome who would rear-end me and then offer to take me out to dinner." Elena winked. "I'll drive carefully. Until Friday, then."
"Until Friday." With another slight bow and another melting grin, Nunzio Moreno left, smug inside over how well things had gone. Never had a traffic accident been more profitable.
Across the street, Elena slid into the driver's seat of her car and relaxed against the leather seats. So sweet. So charming. So just... gentlemanly. A giggle escaped her lips and she managed to get the keys into the ignition. Baby roared to life as she pulled away, Elena nodding in time to the music as compliments replayed themselves in her head. Beautiful... sure, why not? Intriguing... perhaps. She wasn't sure what he found so intriguing, but whatever he had discovered, it had earned her another date. Elena hummed along with the music on her way back to the apartment, determined to get some sleep before heading to the garage tomorrow morning to work on the damage from a most fortunate accident.