Chapter Eleven
I asked a guard to call me a taxi. After I got back to my room, I took a bath with some sweet-smelling bath salts and luxuriated in the suds. I toweled myself dry and put on a blue dress Mario hadn’t seen me in. I liked the way it accented my slim waist and matched my blue eyes.
I wasn’t sure if he’d knock on my door or have the front desk call and say he was here. I sprayed on my favorite Tea Rose perfume and hoped he liked it. Sitting down to wait, I couldn’t stop fidgeting. Why were butterflies fluttering in my stomach? I knew he liked me. He’d even said so, but he seemed so caught up in this project, he might not talk about anything else tonight. I guess I should be a good listener.
And then a knock came. Loud, but not imperious. Despite my mental decision not to appear eager, I hurried to the door. “Yes?”
“It’s me. Are you ready?”
I opened the door. Dressed in a gray suit and a pink tie, he looked gorgeous. “You’re a picture in that blue dress. It looks good on you.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
He held out his arm. I took it. I breathed in his cologne. He smelled good. He always smelled good, like bergamot and cardamom, fresh and sexy. I asked, “How was practice?”
He pressed the elevator button and rubbed his thigh. “The usual. My legs got a workout. I’m glad we aren’t doing anything physical tonight, like bowling.”
“Where are we going?”
He brushed back his dark hair. “I hope you like Chinese.”
“I do.”
He smiled. “That’s good, because I made reservations at the Harvest Moon. It’s a Chinese restaurant.”
At least he was asking if I liked that type of food.
He opened the door, and we walked out. Ernesto fell in step behind us. Mario led me into the elevator.
While we rode down, he put an arm around my waist and pulled me close. “Um, you smell nice.” His eyes twinkled as he smiled at me. I felt warmer already. It was good to be appreciated as a woman.
After we reached the lobby, Ernesto followed us out to the Ferrari. Mario held the car door open. As soon as I sat down, Mario handed me the seat belt. “Please put this on. I want to keep you safe.”
I fastened it and waited while Mario got behind the wheel. Ernesto had barely climbed in the back and shut the door when Mario zoomed off. Meeting my glare, he slowed down to a reasonable speed.
At the restaurant, Mario surrendered his pride and joy to valet parking and walked arm in arm with me into the Harvest Moon.
On the wall, a mural in bas relief pictured bamboo trees with birds flying around next to a market place with fruit and vegetables, and a man pulling a cart with a lady holding a shopping bag. Chinese lanterns hung at intervals, leaving a warm glow on the red walls.
A waitress bowed, offered menus, and inquired about our preferences for drinks. We both chose hot tea, which was soon delivered with warm cups and individual steaming teapots.
Mario studied the menu. “They make a good orange chicken here. I suggest we both get that.”
I shook my head. “I’ll have egg drop soup and the sweet and sour chicken.”
He glanced at me, but said, “Fine. If that’s what you’d like, go ahead and order it.”
Well. This was progress. The rest of my time with him might be more enjoyable.
Then he pulled out the blueprint from his briefcase and unfolded it. It was too big to work with. He folded it back up and took out his paper copy.
“Are you going to spend the evening concentrating on blueprints instead of talking to me?”
“Sorry. I just want to take a quick look. I’ll put them away as soon as our food arrives. Dante’s copy won’t take up too much room on a table.” He concentrated on the floor plan and made a few sketches with pencil.
Finally, he moved the paper closer to me, so I could see. “I have enlarged the room and made it longer to accommodate more people. The palace has a huge staff. I cannot see the royal family not wanting to have them all protected. Now, at eighteen by thirty feet, there will be room for all.”
Remembering a comment about the castle being near the edge of a cliff, I bent over it. The cliff looked to be same distance from the edge of the wall as before, but had the dimensions of the cliff been changed?
“Mario,” I said. “Is this drawn to scale?”
He nodded. “Everything except the area outside the palace, but the distance is marked here.”
He lowered his brow and looked at me but didn’t say anything. I pointed to the line marking the edge of the cliff and the shading indicating a drop off. “Look at this. Is eighteen feet from the castle wall to the edge of the cliff enough distance for you to build a large safe room?”
Mario raised his eyebrows. “You know how to read blueprints?”
“My father was a contractor, and he showed me how to interpret them.”
“I see. To answer your question, eighteen feet would allow enough room for what I plan.”
Dinner was delicious, and I was full, so I opted to make the fortune cookies my dessert. My fortune read, “Throw your cares away and travel on the wings of the wind.”
His read, “Heavy is the heart of he who rules, but light is the heart of he who makes his own destiny.” Mario laughed. “With three princes and an older nephew ahead of me, I don’t have to worry about ruling the country. However, I’d still like to be captain of the Monterra team.”
Ernesto read his. “To protect and serve is the finest destiny.” “I guess I know what I’ll be doing the rest of my life. But that’s no problem. I like what I do, and I’d give my life if need be to keep His Highness safe.”
Mario had told me he’d be busy all the next day, so I spent the following morning taking pictures and interviewing a few shop owners for a “Life with the Royals,” article. That afternoon I wrote and previewed the article before sending it off to the travel editor. At five o’clock, I got an e-mail saying my article on the great pyramid had been rejected, but they’d like to see my article about “Life with the Royals of Monterra.”
The news sat like a rock in my gut. Immediately, I called Mario. I couldn’t wait to share my bad news. After I whined on the phone, Mario said, “That’s too bad. I thought it was a great article. I imagine your parents and your siblings are still proud of you.”
That did make me feel better. “Can we go out to eat tonight?”
“No. I’m sorry, but my crew is getting ready to blast through the rock to make the safe room fifteen feet longer at Dante’s Inferno.”
“Are you sure, you have the dimensions right?”
His voice got louder. “Kelly, I’m a licensed architect. Are you questioning my accuracy?”
With a sinking sense of trouble foreboding, I said, “I guess not.” But the nagging sense of something being different on the copy spurred me to take a taxi to the palace.
Once there, I ran down the steps to Dante’s Inferno. Hearing footsteps, I turned. Gino was following me. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I heard Mario was going to begin blasting tonight.”
Inside, concrete and rock dust lay on the floor and even spread to the tables pushed to one side. I walked over to a gaping hole in the wall, I could see the rock-strewn path to the edge of the cliff. The distance didn’t look like eighteen feet.
“We are about to blast through,” Mario said. “Stand back.” He held the copy of the blueprint in his hands,
I peered around his arm to look at it and read the measurements of the proposed safe room. “That exterior wall is eighteen feet from the edge of the cliff. I thought the original blueprint showed twelve feet to work with so you won’t come too close to the edge of the cliff.”
Mario’s eyes opened wide. “I did say that, but the figure on my copy of the blueprint is eighteen feet.”
I pointed to the page. “That eight in the figure eighteen looks like it was once a two. Could someone have found your briefcase and changed your plans, maybe whitened out the original wall and made another copy?” I pointed to his briefcase, now messy with dust from the drilling and blasting.
“But the only place I had it was at Armando’s apartment, and he has excellent security there, or at the locker rooms at the team practice arena.”
I touched his arm. “Then someone there could have tampered with it.”
Mario stroked his chin. “There is another player who would like to be captain. Louie has expressed an interest. Since he’s made several goals in the last few games, he might want to make me look bad. I don’t know how he’d be able to get my copy. Changing the figures is really devious. If I blast a hole through the cliff, the stability of the palace would be threatened. Who would go that far?”
I moved to stand in front of Mario. “But you can’t allow the blasting to go on until you check it out. When the work actually started, my dad always worked from the original blueprint. Shouldn’t you be doing that?”
Mario scowled. “Are you telling me, the architect, what to do?”
Now, I wrapped my hands on his wrists. “Please, please, just look at the original blueprint and compare it with what you have. Do this for me, please.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, all right. With all the tables moved, there’s no good place to spread it out, but I’ll get it.”
I nodded. “Thank you. This is too important not to be certain.”
The lone bartender asked what we’d like to drink. Mario asked for a Coke. “I need to be able to concentrate on this.”
I asked for a Coke. As I sipped it, I braced myself for a tongue lashing if I were wrong, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t. I patted Mario’s hand. “If I’m wrong, you won’t lose much time.”
His eyebrows moved closer together. “And what if Vito is organizing a bomb attack that could happen any moment? I’ll venture he was behind that fire in the gatehouse.”
“But he’s in jail. How could he?”
Mario turned his chair toward the opening in the original wall. “Maybe he escaped already. Or maybe he has talented henchmen at his disposal. I’m sure there are more activists in Monterra than we saw at the parade.”
I took a deep breath and then was sorry because of all the dusty air.
Finally, Mario dug in his briefcase and held up the blueprint beside the paper copy. Sure enough, the distance to the edge of the cliff was marked at twelve feet from Dante’s Inferno’s original walls, and the copy was marked at eighteen feet.
Mario looked bewildered. “But how could someone have tampered with this copy? Other than the figure eight, which looks like it might have been a two at one time, I don’t see any sign of white out or erasures.”
“Oh, it’s easy to do,” I said. “In high school, some kids who received a grade less appealing would use white out to cover up the original, then make a copy to show their parents. If there were faint lines from the white out, they would keep making copies until the faint impressions disappeared.” Behind us, footsteps sounded. Gino and one of the workers were leaving
Mario clutched his copy so tightly I feared there’d be a permanent crease. “Outrageous!” he bellowed. He slammed his fisted hand against the table. Glasses wobbled, and drinks sloshed over the table. “I’ll beat the tar out of whoever did this until he confesses and offers to pay for all the lost time I’ve suffered.”
“What if it’s not Louie?” I asked.
“Then I’ll find out who’s the guilty culprit and make him pay.” Mario sighed. “Now I’ll have to redraw the plans to expand in another direction and send my workers home until at least a week from now.” He rose. “I’ll drive you home.”
Mario didn’t say anything more about my dress. He seemed to be in deep thought as we rode past some cute houses that resembled Swiss chalets with white gingerbread railings and roof trim. We passed the house with all the rose bushes, and their sweet scent drifted in the open car windows. A beautiful sunset hanging over the mountains bordering Monterra cast shadows on the distant peaks. “You know,” I said, “you were hiking in the mountain on Tenerife in the Canary Islands. Are there some good hiking trails around here you might take me on?”
“Sure. We could do that if you’re still here after I finish with this project.” After saying that, he clammed up. It wasn’t that he was concentrating on driving, because we weren’t moving fast through the streets of Imperia. He must be worried about whoever was trying to sabotage his building of the safe room.
“Are you wondering who might have changed your plans?” I asked.
“It could be Louie. Gino’s my best friend, so I don’t think he’d be plotting against me. Ours is a friendly rivalry for the position of captain.”
“But Gino’s brother is one of the activists.”
“I don’t think Gino’s a part of that movement. He did want me to intercede for Vito, but I haven’t seen any indication Gino bears any animosity toward me.”
I wondered how much of a friend Gino was if he didn’t have any scruples about making a play for me.
The next morning, Mario called to ask if I wanted to go with him while Armando checked for bombs at the palace. “What? Why are you inviting me to be where I might get blown up?”
“For one thing, I figure Armando can find any bomb before it blows. He’s done it before. Besides, I thought you liked adventure.”
I grinned. “I do, and I guess I shouldn’t be worried. I have faith in your brother.”
He looked at me. “Why are you so quick to trust him but not my judgment?”
I touched his arm, relishing the slight sizzle from touching him. “Because you had a lot to drink the night you looked at the original copy and might not have remembered it correctly or the discussion about how close the edge of the cliff was.”
He frowned. “You could be right, damn it. I’ve never been corrected by a woman and been wrong.”
I couldn’t help adding, “And this may not be the only time.”
“It had better be. I can’t go around being bested by a woman.”
“It’s a blow to your ego, right?”
He frowned again. “If you say so. Now, let’s not talk about it anymore.”
The following morning, Mario picked me up with Ernesto and drove to the palace grounds. After we were approved to enter by the guard at the gatehouse, I asked Mario, “Are you sure you want to leave your Ferrari on the palace grounds?”
“Why not? It’s insured. Besides, I trust my brother to find any hidden threats.” He looked around. “Armando isn’t here yet. Just to be sure, I think I’ll park it outside the palace grounds.” He drove it outside the fence and down a block from the palace. “Do you mind walking there?”
I shook my head. “I’m not so sure I like this. You seem to be more concerned about your car than our skins.”
“But I don’t see anyone that looks suspicious, and Ernesto is armed.”
By the time the three of us made it to the palace, Prince Armando was there with a group of assistants. They used long sticks and Geiger counters. The monitoring devices made me shudder. Monterra wasn’t that large. Surely, Vito wouldn’t want to destroy the whole country, and besides, what could he arrange from jail? Armando was just being overly cautious.
I watched as he prodded and poked everywhere. His men invaded the gardens. Smells of greenery and flowers floated in the air. He meticulously took the light fixtures apart and put them back together again.
Armando explained that was where he’d found bombs before.
Then the whole group entered the palace and spread out to check the rooms.
Waiting outside, Mario and I talked about the next game he’d play and the chance his team could play in the Euro 2018 Championship games. “Monterra would be lucky to be one of the four finalists. This is the first year we’ve been allowed to be one of the twenty-four teams to compete. I sure would like to be the one to accept the red, white, and blue trophy, but our current captain isn’t retiring until after those games.
Finally, Armando emerged, wiped his brow with a handkerchief, and blew out his breath. “Well, that’s done. I’m sure there are no bombs here to worry about, at least on the palace grounds.”
I faced Armando. “Do you think they will resort to terrorism in other parts of the country?”
He shook his head. “They mainly want to rouse people to rise up and demand Monterra become a democracy.”
Later, while I ate lunch at a small restaurant with Mario and Ernesto, Mario asked me when I was going to leave.
“The day after tomorrow. My plane leaves at the crack of dawn, so I can’t stay out late tomorrow night.”
After Ernesto left to use the restroom, Mario took my hand and leaned close. He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. “I feel as if we are so much closer now than when we met. Since this is the last night you will be free, would you consider letting me be close to you?”
“What do you mean close?”
“Well, we could go dancing and then spend the evening getting to know each other better.”
I pulled my hand back. “I’m not going to sleep with you. I can’t afford to travel here often. There is too much distance between us.”
“I long to have you in my arms again. Will you go dancing with me and at least think about sharing more later?” His hand was caressing mine, and his smile was tugging at my resistance.
“All right. I’ll go dancing, but that’s all.”
The next day I bought a new dress. I wanted to look special for the evening. The short cocktail dress was a dark shade of turquoise that shone brighter when the light hit it a certain way. Otherwise, it looked more like navy blue. I liked the fact it had a halter neck, so I didn’t have to worry about thin straps breaking or a strapless top slipping down too low. I wore a blue topaz pendant that nestled in the barest amount of cleavage showing. The full skirt hung in unpressed pleats above my knees.
I took special care with my makeup. I felt a little sad. This would be the next to last night I’d spend with Mario. I missed him already, but unless he was considering marriage, there was no place for our relationship to go.
He took me to a nice place with tablecloths and candles on each table. The band played mostly slow tunes that were easy to dance to. Since we came late, we danced a few numbers while we waited for our food.
“Sweet one, I want to ask you something,” he said. By the way his eyes lit up, I figured it would be something I liked. However, if he was going to ask again to sleep with me, I was still going to say no.
“Wow, that would be wonderful.” Was he jeopardizing his standing with the coach by taking that much time off from practice? “Will being gone that long get you in trouble or hurt your chances to become captain?’
Mario shook his head. “I can occasionally miss without repercussions. I just have to call ahead of time and let the coach know I’ll be out of town a few days.”
“I’d love to go. Oh, the pictures I could snap, and the notes I could take.”
“Then we’ll do it.” He danced me over to the table and beckoned to Ernesto. “That trip to Florence I told you about. Book it for me.”
Ernesto row from his chair and bowed. “I will take care of it, Your Highness.” His glances swept the room, and then he tapped his phone and spoke into it.
Mario took me back in his arms and moved into the rhythm of the music. Ernesto stood on the sidelines, his gaze circling the room. I felt so comfortable in Mario’s arms with my cheek next to his, I didn’t notice our food had arrived until the waiter tapped Mario on the shoulder.
Mario nodded. “We don’t want to insult the chef by letting our food get cold. Let’s eat.”
My steak was tender and delicious. The creamed potatoes melted in my mouth. I took a bite of the crusty bread, enjoying the crunch.
After the waiter cleared the table, he returned to ask us about dessert. Mario’s phone rang. He looked at the name and refused the call. He looked at me and smiled. “What would you like?”
“I’ll have the amoretto mousse.”
“And you, sir?”
Mario’s phone rang again. He frowned and refused the call. He pointed to the mousse on the menu and nodded. The waiter walked away.
Seeing the waiter approaching with our order, he flung his arm with a flourish toward the two dishes of mousse. “Let’s enjoy our dessert.”
After we finished eating, Mario leaned close to me. “I’d like one more dance with you before we leave. I asked the band to play a song I like.”
He led me out onto the dance floor and put his cheek next to mine. His face was prickly against my cheek, and his cologne had a hint of something smelling like rum. Again, Ernesto stood on the sidelines, watching everyone.
After the number was over, Mario dropped money on the table and led me out of the restaurant. With Ernesto walking behind, we passed a yellow rain tree with its blossoms hanging down and walked a short way past colorful flowers that gave off a nice aroma.
“Your Highness,” Ernesto said. “Miss Delores is standing beside your car. Shall I tell her to leave?”
Mario frowned. “No. I’ll talk to her.” He walked up to her.
“Delores, what are you doing here? I can’t imagine what’s so urgent you have to bother me while I’m on a date.”
The short redhead’s voice, a strident tone like a violin string out of tune, was loud enough to be heard by anyone passing by. “I tried to call you, but you won’t answer my calls. Something’s happened, and I need to know what your intentions are.”
The woman’s strong perfume with musky overtones flowed over me. I took a step back. What was this about?
Mario swallowed. I could see his Adam’s apple moving convulsively. His face was flushed. He turned and took a step in my direction. “Kelly, would you please excuse me for a few minutes.” He turned toward Ernesto. “Would you please entertain Kelly for a few minutes. I need to talk to Delores.”
He led her a few yards away from me and over to the wall, but I had no trouble hearing his annoyed tones. “What the hell do you mean, barging in on me in front of my date? Have you no respect for decency?”
“I’m pregnant, and that’s all I can think about, what with morning sickness and my breasts so tender I can hardly bear to touch them. My parents will disown me unless I get married or have an abortion.”
“Wait a minute. Why are you telling me?”
“Do you have to ask? It hasn’t been that long since we were together.”
“What makes you think it’s my baby? I saw you out with another one of my teammates after we broke up.”
“I asked him to take me somewhere I knew you’d see me. I wanted you to know other men found me desirable.”
“You’re beautiful to look at, I’ll agree, but your manners leave a lot to be desired. A well-bred lady doesn’t drag a man into a jewelry store and suggest he’s stingy unless he buys her what she’s taken a fancy to.”
“But you can afford it. You said so.”
“I also said I didn’t make a habit of buying jewelry for my girlfriends unless it was for a birthday present. And I happened to know yours was nine months ago.”
She frowned. “Never mind that. I want to know what you’re going to do.”
Mario shoved one hand in his pocket and jingled his keys. “Now look, Delores. You know I used a condom every time we were together. It’s not possible.”
“Condoms aren’t always foolproof, and I haven’t had sex with any other man since then.”
“What about my teammate, Louie, you’ve been dating? He’s not the type to stay with a woman who doesn’t sleep with him.”
“I tell you I haven’t had any sex since we were together. I miss you. I want us to get back together again. We could get married and give your baby a name.”
Mario shook his head. “I’m not ready to settle down. Our team is having a good season, and we travel a lot.”
She touched his shoulder and curved her hand around his neck possessively. I wanted to rush over and drag her away from him. After all, he’d invited me out. Now I could see why he didn’t like that redhead.
Mario took her hand from his shoulder. “Please don’t make a scene here. How can you be sure you’re pregnant? Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
“No, but I’m sure.
“Go home, Delores and take one of those tests. I won’t believe you until you can show me the results. If it’s positive, and you’re sure it’s mine, call me. I can meet with you next week and decide what to do about it, but you can be sure I’ll insist on a paternity test. Right now, I have a lovely lady to entertain who’s leaving the day after tomorrow. I’d like to make the rest of her stay as pleasant as possible.”
Delores glared at him. “Well, you’d better be prepared to offer marriage or pay for an abortion.”
Mario sighed. “I don’t want you having an abortion to get rid of a baby, especially not if it’s mine.”
“Oh, it’s yours all right. I’m sure of it. And be sure to pick a nice quiet restaurant for us to meet. I don’t want everyone in town hearing us discuss it.” She walked away, her stiletto heels clicking on the sidewalk.
Mario came back to his car. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. I would have given almost anything to spare you that.”
Unsettled, I wasn’t sure what to say. “Could she be telling the truth?
Mario shook his head. “She can’t be.”
“Ernesto leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “Could you have used a condom with a hole in it? One from your locker that was trashed?”
Mario shook his head. “I only kept some there in case I had an emergency.”
I frowned. “Being without a condom is an emergency?”
Mario looked sheepish. “Well, I might meet a gorgeous woman who bowled me over, so enticing that I couldn’t resist her….” He gave me an adoring gaze. “Like the one I’m with tonight.”
That made me feel good, but I was sticking to my guns. I wasn’t having sex with a guy I would only be seeing for two more days. And especially not with one who might have made Delores pregnant, even if not by intention.
Mario kissed my hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid the evening’s spoiled now.” His face looked shadowed. “I’ll take you back to your hotel, Kelly.”
I could only hope he still wanted to take me to Florence. One last trip to fill me with memories. I hoped they would overshadow my broken hopes.
He led me outside and opened the door to the back seat. “Ernesto, you take the wheel. I’m too worked up to be a good driver.”
In the back seat, he pulled me to him, cradled my face gently, and gave me a tender kiss. “I hate that your evening was spoiled by my ex-girlfriend. I’m sure she’s lying. After meeting her, you should understand why I was suspicious of redheads, but knowing you has turned into a wonderful experience. I just wish you were staying longer.”
He wasn’t promising to see me again, but I could understand why. However, I couldn’t help saying, “I do, too. I’ve really enjoyed being with you, but I’ve already made my reservations. I’m due back at work, and I have classes starting as soon as I return.” Besides, until he got this mess with Delores settled, he wouldn’t have time for me.
He caressed my shoulders and kissed me again, sending waves of heat all over me. I should have resisted, but I craved his kisses more than anything. They might be the last ones I’d get. His tongue swirled inside my mouth, and he kissed me hard—as if he didn’t want to let me go. I shouldn’t be kissing him if he was tied up with that woman, but I wanted all I could get. Finally, I pulled back and leaned against the seat.
He sighed. “This is awful. I hate having dirty laundry spread before you. I’m surprised you didn’t immediately insist to be taken to your hotel.”
“Then it’s possible she could be right?”
He looked down, then faced me. “I hate to admit it, but, yes, it could be true. If she’s really pregnant with my baby, I probably should marry her. I wouldn’t want to disgrace her or bring a bad name to my team, or worse yet to my royal family.”
My heart sunk. How could I ever forget him and the way he made me feel?
Mario scratched his head. “I can’t help thinking she’s lying. I need to talk to Louie. I saw him with her once.”
“But if you think it’s yours, you’ll go ahead with the marriage?”
“It would be the honorable thing to do.”
“Mario. You can’t. Nobody does that anymore.”
“I have a responsibility to my family. I don’t want to bring down a scandal like that upon them. I’d hate to make the queen cringe and avoid talking to me. Even though paparazzi are discouraged from taking pictures in Monterra, anywhere else I went I’d be hounded by them. And it sure would hurt Monterra’s tourist business.”
“I don’t think people pay much attention to that now. In fact, some might come to see the royal family out of curiosity.” Was he thinking he could marry her and have me on the side? Well, I wouldn’t stand for that. “Mario, I know it’s none of my business, but what are you going to do about Delores?”
“I won’t decide anything until I ask her again about all the other men she’s been with, but I still want to take you to Florence tomorrow.” He took my hand and kissed it. “Please say yes. The arrangements have all been made, and I’m sure you’d love to see the Uffizi with all its statues and paintings. Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus is huge and a sight to behold. With her long golden hair, she looks like you, but you’re more beautiful by far.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Should I go after hearing Delores’s accusation? I really wanted to see Florence, but did I want to spend the day with a man I might never see again? Except I was crazy about him, and I should have told him no, but I did want to spend one more day with him. “All right. I’d still like to go, but you need to get me back by evening as I’m flying back to the states the next day.”
“Absolutely, I will. Be ready by seven o’clock in the morning. I’ll get the hotel cook to pack us a lunch.”
At my door, Mario hugged me and kissed me. The kiss was long and bitter sweet. I couldn’t help kissing him one more time, and then another. Finally, he said, “See you tomorrow, my sweet,” then he turned and left.
As I lay in bed, I felt alone. Being with Mario had grown on me. He might want a stay-at- home-wife like his mother, but surely, he’d enjoy having a wife at the games to cheer him. Except now I might never do that. How empty my life would seem without a man I could really love. I cared about Mario, more that I’d cared for any boyfriend. I admired him for being honorable, but did he have to leave me? No wonder I felt so blue. My heart ached for a man I could never have.
When I opened the door to Mario next morning, he said, “Wear sturdy shoes in case we do a lot of walking. Better bring a sweater or a shawl. They sometimes set the air conditioning too chilly in that gallery.”
I opted for my warm wool shawl. The weather might turn cold.
Ernesto followed us to the car. Mario stared at Ernesto. “I thought Arthur was coming with us.”
Ernesto shook his head. “He sprained his ankle, so I said I’d work his shift.”
Thirty minutes later, Mario drove us in the Ferrari to the airport and pulled up to his hangar. He parked the car and walked with us to the hangar as its door slid open. The music for the Toreador Song blasted from Ernesto’s pocket. He pulled out his phone.
He listened, and his face grew pale. “What do the doctors say?” He paused. “I’m on duty now, but I’ll come as soon as I can.” He hung up.
“What happened?” Mario asked?
“My father had a heart attack. I need to be there, Your Highness, begging your permission, but could you delay your flight until I can get a backup bodyguard here to go with you?”
“This is the last day I can spend with Kelly. I’ve already filed a flight plan, and I don’t know how long it would be until he could get here. I don’t want to cancel.”
“I’ll go with you, Your Highness. I can visit my father in a few days. Hopefully, he’ll be better then.”
Mario shook his head. “No. I insist you go. We’ll be fine.”
“But you really shouldn’t go without protection. Everyone knows your face. Someone might kidnap you and hold you for ransom.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I wanted to go, but I didn’t want him at risk. “Look, Mario. You don’t need to take me there. I can visit Florence some other time.”
Mario shook his head. “Ernesto, I insist you go. You need to be with your father. We’re only going to Florence. It may be a tourist attraction, but I’ve heard the crime rate is pretty low there. Just go on. We’ll be all right.”
I really appreciate this,” Ernesto said. He turned to leave, then faced Mario again. “I almost forgot this.” He handed Mario a padded purple lunch bag. “Someone gave me this to give to you. She said Gino wanted to send you some of those deviled eggs you love so well. He thought you’d enjoy them as a snack on the trip. I took a little bite of one, so I think they’re okay.”
Mario smiled and took the bag. “Give Gino my thanks if you see him before I do. He knows how much I like them.”
An attendant taxied the plane out. The name, ‘Isabella’ in purple letters shone in the morning sun. Another attendant pushed stairs up to the doorway.
Mario walked around the plane, looked at the wheels, checked the gas tank and its cap, then assisted me to climb some steps and get seated. “We have plenty of gas,” he said. “I filed a flight plan electronically earlier this morning, so we’re set to go.”
After he got behind the wheel and checked all the instruments and gages, he taxied the plane over to the runway, spoke to the controller, then took off. I looked down. We flew over the ski lifts, rustic wood lodge, and cabins, all deserted now, but most likely providing a good tourist business during the winter months.
Puffy clouds dotted the blue skies, but left snow-topped mountains clearly visible. They were awesome. This was going to be a scenic trip with all the mountains we had to cross. I snapped several pictures. This would be a wonderful day if only I didn’t think about leaving him for good.
Mario pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a white paper bag in back. Since I picked you up too early for breakfast at the hotel, I brought cinnamon rolls and coffee in insulated cups. And you can have some of my deviled eggs, too.”
“No thanks. I’d rather have a cinnamon roll and coffee.”
I pulled the rolls out, handed him a coffee cup. The plane had a cup holder similar to ones in cars. He took a sip, set it down, and ate two deviled eggs. “Whoever made these put in too much pepper. I need one of those sticky buns to kill the taste.” He held out his hand, and I handed him a cinnamon roll.
“Look down there,” Mario said. “See the white streaks on those mountains we are about to fly over. That’s where the Carrara marble came from for Michelangelo’s David.”
A quarry with slabs laid out appeared below. The mountains beyond were a lot higher.
I pointed ahead. “Do you have to fly over all those mountains?”
He nodded. “I’ll increase our altitude when we get closer, but I’m flying low so you can get a good picture.”
I snapped several, taking care to include the pale areas of marble.
“I can’t wait to see all the paintings in the Uffizi,” I said.
“You can also see Michelangelo’s original statue of David. Well over fourteen feet tall, I heard it was originally planned to be placed on top of a Florence cathedral. However, upon seeing how well made it was, they placed it outside at the Galleria dell ‘Accademia in Florence. After the gold leaf decorations wore off, it was moved inside. In 1910, they placed a full-sized replica outside in the Piazza della Signoria. We should have time to see both the one at the Galleria and the one at the Uffizi.”
As we flew away from the cities nestled at the foot of the mountains and headed toward the higher peaks, I sipped my coffee, glad to find it was still hot. I bit into the cinnamon roll. It was delicious, but sticky. I gingerly transferred it to my other hand and licked frosting off my fingers.
Mario glanced at me, a frown on his face. “My stomach hurts, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.” The plane lurched. “Damn,” Mario said. “I spilled my coffee.” He shook his hand. He must have scalded it.
“I’m sorry. Does it hurt much?”
“I’ll live,” he said, but the plane lurched again. The cinnamon bun fell in my lap, and my coffee sloshed in its cup. I steadied my coffee and swiped at the dab of frosting on my pants.
Mario’s face paled. He seemed to be having a hard time getting the plane righted. His gaze roved over the controls, and he fingered the dials. “Let me see, which one should I adjust?” The plane shook for a moment, but Mario got it to fly steadily for a moment, but he looked unfocused.
My heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong?”
Mario’s fingers gripped the controls with one hand while his other traveled from gauge to gauge. He bent closer, checking the dials. His hands shook. “I’ don’t know. I don’t feel right. I can’t seem to concentrate.”
Mario took in a deep breath. “I can’t fly feeling like this. I have to land somewhere.” He tried calling the nearest airport, but the connection was too full of static to understand anything but the name Pisa. “Damn, that’s 61 kilometers away.” He vomited onto the floor. “I’m not well enough to make that.”
“Too far, right?”
Mario’s lips were clamped together. “Don’t talk to me. I have to figure out what to do next.”
“We’re getting awfully close to those higher mountains.”
He shook his head. “I feel dizzy.” He stared out the front window. “You’re right. Maybe I can glide into a valley.” He grabbed the radio with trembling hands. “Mayday. Mayday.” He dropped the radio and grabbed the yoke with both hands.
I held my breath. I couldn’t see any valley. Nothing but cold, bare peaks. My heart pounded. We were going to crash into all that rock.
Mario was pulling on the yoke. “I don’t want … our lives to end like this.”
“Don’t talk like that. You’re a good pilot.”
“There’s a small valley.” He gritted his teeth. “Not sure I can make it, but I’ll try.”
My heart was now in my throat. “It looks awfully narrow. What if it’s not wide enough?”
“One or both wings will break.”
The plane glided at an even speed, slower of course than before, but Mario gripped the yoke with white knuckles and was able to keep it level.
The ground was coming up to meet us awfully fast.
“Brace yourself,” Mario said.
I put my head in my lap over my crossed arms. I had a sudden urge to rise up and watch what happened. After all, one didn’t crash and die every day. But what if we survived, and the plane caught on fire? I shook my head. But I still wanted to watch. If I lived, this would be something to brag about to my grandchildren, if I ever had any.
The left wing struck the side of the mountain face on my side with a screech, jolting me. The plane spun to the left. My heart pounded. I swallowed a scream. I didn’t want to take Mario’s attention away from the controls.
“Damn it all anyhow,” Mario said. “Need to put my Falcon down, but it may never fly again.”
“I’ll be happy if we just survive in one piece.” I didn’t want to think about injuries or lying on the hard stone, waiting for rescue.
Mario leveled the plane, but the right wing scraped against a peak on the other side. I held my breath and the craft hit the ground with a loud noise and a tremendous thump that jerked my neck. The plane rocked from side to side. I felt every bump, but hey, I was alive, and so was Mario.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“I think so, but I’m still a little woozy.” He sighed. “Did you get hurt?”
“My neck feels a bit stiff, but I’m okay,” I said.
“We need to get out in case the plane catches on fire.” Mario jumped down from his side and clambered around the nose on uneven ground and opened the door for me. “Damn, I loved this plane. Even if I could get someone here to fix it, I couldn’t fly out of here. It’s a total loss, but what’s most important is that you’re not hurt.”
As he lifted me down, I looked around. It would be hard to get very far from the plane without climbing up one of the peaks on either side. “Do we need to get far away from the plane?” I asked.
Mario sat on a rocky outcropping and rested his head in his hands. “I feel rotten, and I can’t think straight. Those deviled eggs must have been spoiled.”
I asked again. “Do we need to get away from the plane?”
He shook his head, then turned his head to vomit. “I hope not. The peaks on both sides look difficult to climb.” He grabbed a handkerchief to wipe his mouth. “I’ve never had food poisoning affect me so fast.” He hobbled over to look under the plane. It sat at an angle. Apparently one wheel had collapsed. Holding his head, he walked around it and inspected it from every angle.
Finally, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled under the plane. I bent to watch as he ran his fingers along the bottom. “There’s no leaks from the gas tanks. I don’t think the plane will explode.”
I heard a thumping noise.
“The tanks are not empty. We’re lucky we didn’t crash head on into one of these peaks.” Then he sat and studied the plane. “Damn. The tail is smashed.” He put a hand to his forehead. “I’m still having trouble thinking, but that means the emergency locator transmitter won’t work. There’ll be no locating signals sent out.”
“Are you still feeling bad? What do you think is wrong with you?”
He shrugged. “Feels like food poisoning, only worse.”
“I’m not sick, so it wasn’t the cinnamon rolls. Must have been the deviled eggs. I saw your hands shake, and you have trouble concentrating. That’s more than food poisoning. Was there a lot of pepper? That may have been used to hide the taste of something else?”
Mario took a deep breath. “You might be right. I thought Gino was my friend. I didn’t expect he’d give me something to make me deathly ill when I was going to fly.”
“Maybe he didn’t want us to make it back. Didn’t you say he wanted to beat you out for the captain’s position?”
Mario groaned. “It’s hard to believe he wanted to kill me and you, too. I need to call my people.” He pulled out his phone. “I can’t get a signal. Can you?”
I tried but had no luck. We were stranded. A sinking feeling threatened to overwhelm me. I shook my head. “I’m afraid we’re stuck here.”
Mario looked at me. “Well, you wanted to travel and have adventure. Now you have it.”
“That’s not funny. Do you have any maps?” I asked. “I mean how far will we have to walk to get to civilization?”
“I have a map, but I guess we’re about ten miles out from the city of Carrara. And it’s mostly mountains.”
I groaned. “If we can make two miles an hour, that means five hours walking.”
A gray-striped turkey buzzard circled overhead. I shook my fist at it. “We’re not dead yet. Go somewhere else. I need a map. Is it still in the plane?”
He nodded. “But I’m not sure I feel well enough to climb up there.”
“Well, I do.” I climbed inside the plane. A moment later, I stepped down and spread a map out against the side of the plane.
I measured the scale of miles at five for the tip of my index finger and laid it along the distance between where Mario thought we were to Carrara. “It looks like fifteen miles. Are you able to walk that far before it gets dark? I imagine it gets pretty cold here at night.”
A breeze lifted the hair from my neck and chilled my flesh. It would be even chillier on the top of the peaks.
Mario nodded. “You’re right about that, and we can’t call anyone to rescue us.”
“But you filed a flight plan. Won’t someone notice we didn’t arrive in Florence?”
“It may be a several hours before anyone wonders why we haven’t arrived, and then they won’t know exactly where to search.”
“Oh, no. There’s no way I can get back in time to make my flight. You’ve made me miss my flight.”
Mario looked around. “That’s the least of our worries. We don’t know until we climb one of these peaks how difficult our journey will be.”
“Is there a compass on the plane so I can plot our path?”
Mario shrugged. “It will tell us which way is north, but I already know that. I need to climb up higher to see the best way to get out of here.”
I looked at him. “You’re in no shape to do that right now.” I pointed to the north. “This one looks easier. I’ll go.”
“Not that way. The other peak rises higher. You’re more likely to see more from its summit.”
Now I glared at him. “And take a chance on breaking my leg?”
He glanced between the peaks. “Well, the higher peak does look more difficult to climb, but your legs look sturdy. You should be able to make it.”
Just what a girl wants to hear a man say about her legs. However, if he thought I could do it, I wasn’t going to let him down. I groaned. “Wait here until I climb to the top and plan a route. Then I’ll come back down to gather supplies, and we’ll set off.”
I folded the map and stuffed it in my pocket. “I’d better take the thermoses.”
“What for? We drank all the coffee.”
“To collect snow for drinking water.”
He looked at me. “Good thinking. He slid two thermoses inside my backpack and I set off. After starting up the steep incline, I slowed to climb around jagged rocks jutting out. A cold breeze chilled me. Knowing the area somewhat, he’d be better able to plan a route, but I was more fit to climb.
I looked around at the rocky ground with sparse clumps of weeds. At least there wasn’t any snow here. The air was clear. So much for a pleasant day visiting the famous art gallery. I’d be spending the day with a great guy, and perhaps the night, but not the way I’d hoped.
Halfway up, I moved slower, finding it harder to breathe. Was the altitude getting to me? After I reached the top, I looked around and studied the map. Nothing but mountains to the west, and the map didn’t show any towns nearby in that direction, but I could see a town to the east. We needed to go back the way we’d come. I filled the thermoses and headed back down. It took me longer to navigate the rocky incline. Finally, I reached the bottom, and sat down on a large rock to catch my breath. “We can follow the valley east for a couple miles. Then we’ll have to climb over a peak to reach the next valley. That’s where we’ll head.”
“Maybe,” he said, “we can get a signal there.”
“We might, but I don’t see any towns or roads.” I climbed back inside the wrecked plane to get my thick scarf, some gloves I had, and our lunch. “We’ll walk until we get tired and stop to eat.”
“Is that backpack too heavy? Mario asked. “I could carry something.”
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”