The Last Chance - Part 3 - The Rapture of France

I am in a state of turmoil as I realize that what is happening to me should not take place. I set out on this extended vacation with the intent of sharing my thoughts and impressions with a woman who is simpatico to me and with the resolution not to get into a physical relationship with her.Jan answered my advertisement in a local Boston magazine and me, poor fool, was beguiled by her candor and her sunny disposition.* I offered her the position on the spot and here we are in Venice, city of romance.The romance hit us both like a thunderbolt on our first night at the hotel when a lonely and disoriented Jan crept into my adjoining room and into my bed, seeking reassurance. I woke in the morning with her body snuggled against mine and the situation changed from platonic to play, which is a tonic to an old fool like me.Her words after a morning of intense passion still ring in my mind like the chimes of St Marks?s Cathedral.?I love you.? She is too young, and I am too old? I think. I don?t want to feel too attached to her as I can see no long term upside to our involvement. She will sooner or later meet a man who is of an appropriate age and I again will be left alone.For the next two days, we did the grand tour of Venice?s sights; St Mark?s Basilica, The Dodge?s Palace, and The Bridge of Sighs. We rode gondolas down the Grand Canal and under the Rialto Bridge. The Tintoretto paintings at the ?Scuola Grande di San Rocco? captivate Jan, and it?s a joy to see her excitement. A fast Vaporetto ride takes us to Murano, where we feast our eyes on the works produced by their master glassblowers.We laugh, and sample the finest restaurants and spent our nights making passionate love.oOoI decide to make a call to Joan, my ex-executive assistant who retired at the same time I did, and who had met Jan. Joan has known me for years and had also known my wife before she passed away. I trust her judgment and feel the need to unburden myself to someone who would not be judgemental.?Joan, it?s Robert, how are you doing???Well, Robert, this is an expected surprise. Thank you I?m fine.??What do you mean, an expected surprise???Well, I expected this call. However, I?m surprised it came this soon. You didn?t waste any time did you???You know what I am going to tell you???Absolutely! She is already or is in the process of falling in love with you, and you are scared shitless. Your mind is reeling and you waver between intense passion and extreme guilt.??Yes, but how did you know???Robert, it was fated from the start. She could be the twin of your wife when she was that age. She is a stunning passionate woman, and she is fun to be with. That is why you are falling in love with her. Because you are a singularly ethical and moral person, you are both afraid of hurting her and afraid to be hurt by her. Right???Yes. That about sums up the situation. What should I do???Enjoy what you have and let tomorrow take care of itself. If you don?t, you will have regrets for the rest of your life. She is not a gold digger and you will have to trust that you and she will come to a solution. Now you old fool go and take care of yourself.?oooOoooA chime cues the Pavlovian clacking of released seat belts. Across the aisle, matching Armani suits unlatch attaches and confer over pages of fine print. To my right, Robert dozes in the posh leather lap of the First Class cabin.I smile at the wages of an energetic night in bed, and my face flushes under the ozone draft like a Murano artisan's kiln, fired by the memory of hands and mouths forming, shaping, spinning sparks from each other's flesh.The sixty-five-minute layover at DaVinci/Fiumicino is behind us. So is the dream that was our time in Venice: a watercolor shimmering through the first fever of mutual attraction, where hand in hand, Robert and I paid reverent homage in museums by day and then disappeared into sweet, profane after-hours exhibitions of our own.Over the savory risotto at Cafe Florian, Robert made good on his promise to tell me the story behind his amusement when I speculated on what would happen if he were to take me in front of our hotel room window for all on the Grand Canal to see."You've heard of Silvana Beretta?" Robert set down his prosecco.I nodded at the mention of the Italian cinema legend. Who hadn't?"Well, about ten years ago, she was staying on the floor directly above us. Novitsky was her lover at the time and--""You're kidding!" I gushed in disbelief. The rock star must have been half Ms. Beretta's age. "I'm sorry... please go on.""Word is, one afternoon she had a few too many Gallianos, stripped to her birthday suit right in front of the picture window, bent over and dared her boy-toy to take a ride. He did... and drove in his twelve-inch equipment until those famous Beretta ta-tas were bouncing against the glass. Caused a twenty-gondola pileup on the Canal once someone figured out exactly who was getting shagged in broad daylight."Our server, who'd been approaching the table with a water pitcher, discreetly backed away with a smirk. I giggled into the napkin. "And all publicity is good publicity?""Not only were the exhibitionists not evicted, but that suite has commanded double its going rate ever since. And now that you know, I suggest you finish your risotto before it gets cold. Then," with a wink that caused me to glaze the Rigby