Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Look at how smooth the glass is, even when made into odd shapes,” I gushed, my art nerd coming out. “Even the little ears on the mouse look like they were always meant to be there and not attached afterward. This must have taken dozens of years of practice and skill. It’s amazing.”
“Grazie, signora,” a new voice called out, and I flinched, grasping Gio’s hand automatically. I stepped away from the work as an older gentleman with a friendly look about him stepped in.
Gio grinned. “Olivia, this is Master Tommaso. He’s a family friend and a very skilled artisan.”
“Mattina,” the man nodded his head. He was clearly in his sixties or seventies but looked no worse for wear despite the slight hunch to his back.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” I beamed. “Is this your shop?”
“Si,” Tommaso nodded. “Old famiglia. I inherited it from my grandfather. It’s been in our family for generations.”
“That’s amazing,” I said honestly. “So these are all your work? Techniques passed down in your family?”
“Si,” his lips curved up a bit, pleased as I admired his work. “You want to learn?”
“Can I?” I blurted out, my excitement too much to handle. The thought of working with a master glassblower was amazing.
“Si, come then.” He waved us over, and Gio wrapped his hand loosely around my waist, the two of us following Tommaso into the back. That’s when I discovered why it was so hot in there.
The workshop was filled with multiple furnaces going at the same time, massive sheets of steel, and some tools I recognized and others I didn’t. Tommaso explained the process of glassblowing to us, his knowledge incredibly vast and valuable. The century-old craft was even more mesmerizing in person than in video as Tommaso demonstrated the vase-making process.
“It’s the easier beginning item,” he said casually. “No small parts to make.”
Seeing the process unfold before our very eyes, the way he handled the glass so confidently, blowing it up and shaping it just the way he wanted. He made it look all too easy, but I could see the technique with every movement. I marveled at the finished pieces, taking the molten glass and turning it into a flower vase.
“You try,” Tommaso said, staring at his work like it was nothing special. He showed us how to add the colors and a few of the original techniques of the Murano specialty before letting us work. Gio warmed up the big piece of glass in the furnace as I rolled out the little pieces of color on the table. I decided to go with cool colors, violets, and blues with a dash of faded pink in it. Gio stood by the furnace, letting me handle the stick as I rolled the glass gently into the coloring, going back and forth just as we were shown.
“Good,” Tommaso said, nodding as he gestured to go back to the furnace. Gio didn’t want to let me near the open fire, so he took control over that. We added more and more color, rolling the piece between furnaces before finally, we got to the shaping. Gio rolled the stick as I used the tools to make an elongated shape under Tommaso’s instructions, then we’d switch, and Gio would try to shape it. And there it went, back and forth into the oven and making painstakingly small shapes before it cooled.
The inside was the hardest to make as we used a thin piece of steel to insert into the glass, but finally, we were done. Gio did the intricate work on one handle, and I did the other. They had ended up a bit lopsided, one higher than the other. Gio had a little more fun with the intricate handle as he made his handle attach twice, leaving little spaces. It looked like a slithering snake against the glass, and the vibrant turquoise he added to it added to the effect.
My handle was simpler, heavier on the base of the vase but thin on the neck. It was almost paper-thin, barely connected at all but still visible. I had chosen a deeper blue for the color, and despite how mismatched it looked, it was ours.
The top of the opening was a bit wavy, crooked on one side, and the shape had somehow morphed a bit into a teardrop shape with an open flower at the top, but I was most proud of the colors. The pink and violets had swirled together in a gradient, leaving the blue at the bottom like a sea and a sunset. Flecks of blue had splashed onto the top, tiny specks barely noticeable, but it only made it look more beautiful in my opinion.
Tommaso was a bit more critical of the piece, seeing as he was a master, but ultimately, he gave us a pass. “Not bad for the first try,” Tommaso nodded in approval. “A very unique piece.”
I beamed.
We returned home with the piece, and I didn’t waste any time placing it on the table in our room and adding the flowers we had stopped to buy in it–red camellias, baby’s breath, and red salvias. I didn’t ask why Gio had chosen those specific ones, but they fit perfectly within our vase. I stared at the artwork we made together, the flowers we’d purchased after an unforgettable day. Gio wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap as he leaned down into my ear, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and longing as he posed a single question that stirred all of my emotions in full gear.
“Want to try again for a baby?”
I suppressed a beaming smile, turning around his lap as I found his lips, pressing them gently against his.
“Yes,” I breathed.
*Olivia*
It had been the most glorious honeymoon. I couldn’t have imagined a better way to celebrate becoming Giovani’s wife, and I never wanted our honeymoon to end. But nothing could last forever, and before I knew it, we were already on our last day in Venice.
Gio had promised me that we would spend the last day hitting all the places that we hadn’t gotten to yet, and I was hurrying to get ready for the day while he finalized our dinner reservations.
I ran my comb through my hair, grateful that it was obeying me. I only had about fifteen minutes to finish my hair and makeup. I’d never been a particularly fussy person when it came to my looks, but something about walking through famous Italian art museums really made me want to up my game.
I decided on a romantic-looking messy updo with a few wisps of hair framing my face. It was easy enough to do in a few minutes, and I had a feeling my husband would love it. Every time I thought of Gio as my husband, it sent a little shock of happiness through me.
Once I was satisfied with my hair, I turned to my makeup. My skin had been remarkably clear the entire week, which I attributed to the fact that I felt more happy and relaxed than I had in a long time. It felt like everything in my life was finally coming together. Marrying Giovani had brought me one massive step closer to becoming the person that I knew I was meant to be.
With a few swipes of mascara and a bit of blush, I was ready to go. I straightened my clothes, a cream silk blouse tucked into black linen pants, and left the bathroom to find the shoes I wanted to wear. Giovani was wearing his usual dark suit and looked so good I wanted to tear it right off of him, but there’d be time for that later.
He had his back turned to me as he looked out the windows. I took the opportunity to stand and admire him while he was distracted by his phone call. The broad strength of his shoulders made me feel so safe, and I loved the way his hair was streaked with gray. I felt–no, I knew–that he’d been made just for me. We fit together so perfectly, I couldn’t believe there had ever been a time when I doubted whether or not we should be together.
“Ciao,” he said, then hung up his phone and turned to face me. “You look lovely with your hair like that,” were the first words he said to me. I smirked; I knew him so well.
“Thank you, baby. Where are we going first?” I couldn’t wait to do even more sightseeing.
“I thought we’d start at Doge’s Palace and then move on to Ca’ Rezzonico after lunch. Does that sound good to you?”
He didn’t need to ask. I would be happy with whatever he had chosen. The man had amazing taste, after all.
“Sounds amazing, let’s go!” I exclaimed, grabbing his hand and tugging him out the door.
He chuckled behind me but let me lead him out to the canal, where we would catch a gondola to take us to our destination. Riding in the gondolas was just as romantic as I’d always imagined it would be.
Walking into the great council chamber of Doge’s Palace overwhelmed me so much that it brought tears to my eyes. Giovani looked down at me with a proud smile on his face; he loved being the one to take me to such amazing places.
The ornate golden framing around the intricate paintings that covered the ceiling filled with such beautiful colors was so incredible, I couldn’t think of anything I’d seen that matched the majesty of it all. I wanted to lie down on the floor and stare up at the ceiling for hours, but we had a tour to go on. Gio stopped and patiently let me take a million photos of everything so that I could show Dahlia.
Before I knew it, it was time to leave for lunch and Ca’ Rezzonico. We were able to walk to a peaceful little cafe where we could have soup and sandwiches.
“What are you thinking about?” Gio asked me as I ate my meal.
“I’m just wondering how difficult it would be to paint our own ceiling,” I responded, half serious.
He burst out into laughter. “I don’t know why I expected you to be thinking about anything other than that. You know I’d let you do whatever you wanted. If that includes painting a mural on the ceiling, so be it. I just have one requirement: I want a nude portrait of you right above our bed.”
I laughed and whacked his arm. His request was ridiculous, but I had to admit it would add an interesting bit of spice to bedtime.
We finished our lunch and walked the rest of the way to Ca’ Rezzonico. This was one of Giovani’s favorite places, so instead of going on an official tour, he took me around and showed me all his favorite pieces. I fell in love all over again as he excitedly dragged me from piece to piece, pointing out what he loved most. The spark in his eye was undeniable and it made me enjoy our time at the museum even more.
When Ca’ Rezzonico closed, it was time for our dinner reservation. The restaurant was lit by old-school candlesticks in lovely antique candelabras. It was the perfect way to end our time in Venice. As we ate the four-course meal, we already began making plans for our next visit. Once again, I was amazed that this was my life now. I was someone who could make plans to visit Venice for a second time and actually get to do it.
***
The next morning, we made it back to the compound not long after breakfast. Giovani had to catch up on a lot of work, and I was excited to have some girl time with Dahlia. Before he left for his office, he kissed me deeply and told me he’d miss me, even though we’d only be separated for a few hours. I smiled to know he’d be thinking about me.
Dahlia was in her room reading when I found her. I shut her door behind me so that we could catch each other up on gossip and life happenings without risking anyone overhearing. She squealed with happiness the second I walked into her room and jumped up to give me a huge hug.
“Thank god you’re back! The whole place was starting to get a little too testosterone-heavy for my liking!” she exclaimed as she pulled me toward her bed so we could both sit. “So tell me all about the honeymoon! I bet it was so amazing!”
“It really was,” I said. I pulled my phone out so I could show her all the pictures I had taken as I told her about all the things we’d done.
“You know what? You should show these to Caterina too. I know she’d love them just as much as I do,” she said once I was finished talking. I’d introduced her to Caterina and they’d become fast friends, just as I knew they would. But her bringing Caterina up reminded me that there was something else I needed to tell her, and I was nervous about what her reaction might be.
