We sat for almost a half an hour eating delicious biscotti and sipping espresso. Gio filled us in on the city of Parma and the history of Bellissima. He told us funny stories about a dozen famous Italian singers he had recorded in the last few years. I was impressed at the level of celebrity that he worked with, but it was even more endearing that Gio did not seem impressed.
Eventually we made our way back into the studio and up to the second floor where we were introduced to the group that would be our recording team. I was relieved when everyone spoke English, even if it was with a heavy Italian accent. Over the next six hours we made dozens of recordings, many of the same sections over and over again. When our voices began to show signs of strain, Gio said it was enough for the day and that we had to save our voices for our performance that evening.
He made us both promise we would not speak until one hour before our show. I tried to protest, to let him know that we would be okay, but the moment I opened my voice to speak, he put a finger on my lips.
“You have a beautiful voice, bella. You listen to Gio. I take good care of my ladies. Yes?” He began to remove his finger from my lips, so I opened my mouth in an attempt to tell him okay, but his finger quickly returned.
“No voice, yes?”
I nodded agreement.
“There you go. Now you may go. You come back tomorrow and we finish. Your song will be almost as bellissima as the two angels that make the beautiful music. Yes?”
Sienna and I both smiled and were rewarded with kisses on both cheeks.
***
Sienna was the first to speak as we got into our waiting car. “So would you think I was crazy if I told you that Gio somehow turned me on?” She looked at me with a devilish grin.
I didn’t respond. I just smiled and shook my head, no.
“I think it’s the Italian accent. It’s sexy, don’t you think? I know he’s old enough to be my father but I’m thinking that just makes him experienced, not out of age range.”
I shrugged my shoulders and smiled.
“Are you kidding me? You really aren’t going to speak?”
I nodded my head as I grinned.
“You always were a goody-two-shoes.” Sienna thought for a minute before she continued. “Remember in Mr. Carlton’s class in fifth grade? We were supposed to read Artemis Fowl, that boring sci-fi crap book? But instead we decided to read Deenie by Judy Blume. We glued the cover of Artemis crap over the Deenie book and folded in all of the good pages. We even underlined the really dirty parts.”
I looked at Sienna and raised my eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. I was curious how our reading a book was going to be related to my being a goody-two-shoes for not speaking.
“Your book dropped out of your bag and the next day Mr. Carlton questioned us with a few of the other girls. He opened the damn book to one of the sections where Deenie was touching her “special place.” Sienna added air quotes around the words for emphasis.
“You know, looking back that’s probably why I have such a healthy sexual appetite. That Deenie bitch touched herself every night in that book.”
I looked over at Sienna, wide-eyed at her words, but she just ignored me and continued.
“Anyway, Mr. Carlton was grilling us to find out who was the dirty girl reading a book that had been banned from the library, and you broke down and cried and admitted it was yours. Then I got detention for a week too, because he said he knew if you were reading it that I was probably the one that had showed you the book to begin with!”
I looked over at my crazy best friend as she rambled, amused at her recollection.
“Always a damn goody-two-shoes.” Sienna shook her head and I rolled my eyes at her.
***
As we reached Milan, we had almost four hours to spare until the concert. Sienna told the driver to take us to a mall that she had seen nearby where our tour busses were parked. I wanted to object, preferring to go back to the bus and take a power nap, but since I still wasn’t speaking it was difficult to express my wishes with just squints and head nods. And I knew we were going shopping for me.
When the AVN Awards were announced, I had been embarrassed when I realized that my family and friends would know about Jack’s production business. I didn’t realize until after the damage was done that I had shown Jack that I was embarrassed of part of him. I later realized, with Sienna’s help, that my reaction was immature and insulting, but it was too late. No matter how many times I apologized to Jack, I couldn’t take away that I had made him feel badly.
Sienna had devised a plan that she called “Operation Proud,” where I would show, not tell, Jack that I was not embarrassed about any part of who he was. Part of her plan entailed me buying a sexy dress for the AVN Awards in Milan and showing it to Jack when we met up in Italy, telling him that I bought it for the awards. It had sounded like a great plan at the time, but as we got closer to the awards date I thought it might be a stupid idea since Jack still hadn’t invited me to the ceremony, even though it was the weekend we were scheduled to be home for the tour’s planned hiatus.
By the time we made our way into the third dress store, I was pretty sure the salespeople thought I was a mute and Sienna was my insane caretaker. We entered the fourth store and the salesman came rushing to our side.
“Aren’t you Sydney and Sienna?” I was surprised to hear an American accent when the man spoke.
Sienna smiled at the waiting man, who looked oddly nervous. “Yes. Do we know you?”
“Oh. My. God. I just have to text Sal and tell him.” The young salesman whipped out his phone and began texting furiously.
“We have tickets to the show tonight. My boyfriend is a big Double Strife fan. Me, not so much.” The tall lanky young man crinkled up his nose to accentuate his statement. “But then I saw a video on YouTube from one of your recent concerts and I fell in love with you two!” He clapped his hands together and bounced up and down in a way that reminded me of a five year old looking at chocolate covered pretzels behind the glass when his mother tells him to pick one.
Sienna smiled, pleased at being recognized, and clearly amused by the young man’s reaction. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. You have great taste.” She winked.
The man lit up like a Christmas tree at her reaction. “I’m American too!” The statement came out as almost a squeal. “I came here last year for a study abroad program and met Sal. I never left.”
We both smiled at the gushing man. “Oh. My. God. Are you guys shopping for dresses? I can’t wait to dress you up! It will be like playing real life Barbie!”