Scene 2
Amber & Adrienne
The vintage red Ferrari rolled down the dusty Tuscan road, the picturesque landscape of an Italian valley in the winter passing by one tree and medieval house at a time. The air may have been cool, but the sun was warm and the chocolates half-melting in the space between Adrienne Thomas and Amber Mayview.
“You should let me drive!” Amber popped another chocolate into her mouth. They had made a pact before hopping in the private jet to Italy that they wouldn’t give a single fuck about diets. It was Christmas! In Italy! The whole point was to get wasted on carbs, wine, and chocolate! If Santa decided to bring them new waistlines and bless them with bulging food babies, then so be it. They had all January to hit the gym with their personal trainers and look fabulous while doing so. “I’ve never been able to say that I’ve driven in Italy! In a Ferrari! A vintage one!”
Adrienne eased on the gas as they encountered the first curve in two kilometers. “I’m the one with the international driver’s license. The moment I let you behind this wheel, we’ll get pulled over by the Italian police!”
“No we won’t! We’re gorgeous and filthy rich!”
Adrienne laughed, but she knew better than to push what she could get away with in this part of the world. Maybe her business partner Ethan Cole, the prodigal adopted son of Italy, could get away with speeding down the highways in his Lambo, but Adrienne wasn’t taking her chances with the law after being arrested earlier that year. In America, but still…
Amber titled her head back and sucked in the fresh – albeit dusty – air. “This beats being back in America by a million miles.”
Something sputtered in the car. Adrienne briefly checked the dashboard, but didn’t see anything amiss. “I’m so glad we’re not around for the snowstorm.” Even when she was a child, Adrienne wanted nothing to do with the so-called white Christmases. There was nothing good about five-foot snow drifts keeping her from driving to where she wanted to go. Not to mention how much her father grumbled about shoveling the driveway and her mother lamented the electric bill suddenly spiking so they could stay warm. Amber was even less experienced with snow. As she told her girlfriend more than once, “After I experienced my first snowy Christmas, I decided I didn’t need to be around for any more.”
Christmas in this part of Italy was still a gamble, but Adrienne had enough experience by now to know that a Tuscan Christmas was probably mild enough to give them what they wanted.
No snow, mostly. And lots of red wine to keep with the holiday spirit. Green pesto and red wine it was!
“When we get back to the villa,” Adrienne said, “I think we should open one of our Christmas presents.”
“A whole day early?”
Adrienne glanced at her girlfriend, whose leopard-print scarf wrapped delectably around her head and caressed her bottle blond hair. Those giant cat-eye sunglasses only added to the chic mystique of a bygone era. “I’ve got the perfect present for you to open. Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty more for you tomorrow.” The car sputtered again.
“Is it a sexy present?”
“It’s whatever kind of present you want it to be!” Adrienne could see it now: her gorgeous girlfriend in a bed of roses, sipping her hot chocolate and unwrapping a little blue box from Tiffany’s. Adrienne had stuck that precious possession deep in her personal bag before boarding the plane two days before. Not only was she insistent on not losing it, but she didn’t want a chance in hell of Amber discovering it. Amber wouldn’t go that deep into her girlfriend’s bag unless she wanted to steal a tampon, anyway.
“You know what she’s going to think, right?” That’s what ex-boyfriend and current business partner Ethan had said on their sojourn to Tiffany’s earlier that week. They had been in New York City for business and decided to buy their significant others a shiny Christmas present. Ethan had bought his wife a brooch engraved with her married-woman’s initials. Adrienne, on the other hand, had been instantly drawn to a ring that suspiciously looked like the kind people bought for potential fiancées. “She’s going to flip shit that you’re proposing to her on Christmas.”
Amber could think whatever she wanted of Adrienne’s ring. That was the point! She could think whatever she wanted! Far be it from me to say we’re not engaged now. She glanced at her girlfriend again, who smiled back at her. I’m just not saying it. She can say it. That’s how Adrienne was. She was not the proposing type. God knew she and Amber had discussed it enough over the months. Adrienne was much too passive aggressive in her personal life. She saved all the direct aggression for the board room.
And soon, she would unleash her aggression upon this car. For the moment Adrienne decided to imply she and Amber might be engaged, the Ferrari blew smoke from its hood and begged its passengers to pull over onto the side of the Tuscan road… now.
“Oh my God!” Amber squealed, sunglasses whipping off her face. “What happened?”
Adrienne concentrated on getting the car on the side of the road before answering. The car had broken down in the middle of nowhere. Good thing it wasn’t snowing.
“What do we do?” Amber unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up, peering over the windshield at the smoke – or was it steam? – rising from the hood. “Know anything about cars?”
“I certainly know nothing about sports cars.” They were toys. Other people took care of them so Adrienne wouldn’t have to trouble herself. “Damnit.” She pulled out her cell phone and hoped she had any semblance of reception. They were out in the open. Surely some satellite above them could spit a signal back to a tower.
She had exactly one bar. Good to know the hundreds of dollars she spent a month to make sure she had coverage all over the world came in handy. Too bad there was only one person she could think of to call.
“Yes? What is it?” That droll, masculine voice already made Adrienne roll her eyes. “What did you do, Adrienne?”
“Who says I did anything?” Adrienne remained in the driver’s seat while Amber got out and tentatively checked on the hood of the Ferrari. One more spurt of smoky-steam, and she squealed loudly enough to awaken half the countryside. “It’s not my fault if my car broke down in the middle of Nowhere, Italy.”
“What?”
“Are you deaf, Ethan?” Adrienne likewise undid her seatbelt and leaned back in the plush leather seat. “I said we broke down. The Ferrari we rented needs more work, apparently.”
“What did you do to it?”
“I didn’t do anything. God. You make it sound like I’m a terror behind the wheel.”
“You are.”
“I am not!” Adrienne lowered her phone. “Amber, sweetie? Am I a terror on the road?”
“No comment!”
“Whatever. Look,” Adrienne sighed into the phone, “you’re the only one I know who is fluent in Italian. Could you be a dear and call a tow truck for us? Or whatever it is they have out here. Could be a horse and buggy for all I know.”
“Pretty sure they’re tow trucks, Nene.”
Pretty sure I’m gonna yank your balls off if you insist on calling me that whenever you want to talk down to me. Bad enough that used to be his pet name for her. Now Ethan unleashed the Nene when he absolutely, 100% for sure had an academic leg-up on his ex. “So could you please help me out here?”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know! Tuscany?”
Ethan sighed. “Text me your GPS coordinates. It should be in the dash.”
“You know I’m not technologically inclined.”
“Neither am I. So you know if I’m saying it’s easy, then it’s easy.”
Easy enough for him to say when he drove these sporty Italian cars every day. He probably lived and breathed the damned GPS. “Amber, sweetie?” Adrienne called to her girlfriend standing on the side of the road, looking like a lost little lamb in Chanel. “Could you come here and help me with this? Please?”
Amber was slightly better with electronics than Adrienne, and between the two of them – and Ethan coaching them over the phone – they managed to relay their current location. Ethan promised to call them a tow truck and to personally come out and grab them. He was in such a good mood that he said he would treat them to Christmas Eve dinner.
I knew there was a reason to come with him and Jasmine for Christmas. The Coles owned a Tuscan villa. And by the Coles, that meant Ethan, who was obsessed with everything Italian and would own a house in the Italian countryside whether he was married or not. The villa was small enough to be intimate, but also large enough to host another pair of guests without them being in each other’s way.
“He said it would be about a twenty minute wait until he got here,” Adrienne said, once Amber was settled back into the passenger seat. “Guess we hold tight until then.”
“What if he gets here before the tow truck?”
“He said he would help us translate what happened.”
“Good. Because my Italian is non-existent, and yours leaves a lot to be desired.”
Well, that wasn’t necessary. Adrienne’s lingual forte was in French, with Italian a distant second. Somehow she felt her abroad experiences in the south of France would come in handy right now. As much as she hated to rely on any man, there were times when it was a necessary evil. Like now.
They sat in silence. Amber finished off the chocolates before they completely melted. Adrienne watched her phone slowly die.
They both watched as a man on a motorbike sped up the road behind them. But when they expected him to blast by in a trail of dust, he instead pulled over after turning to look back at them. Great. A friendly motorist had come to save their souls. With any luck, Ethan would show up in time to fend him off. Adrienne trusted the local male populace as much as she trusted them back home. Which was to say… hardly at all.
“Fantastic,” Adrienne mumbled. “The local mechanic is here to save our day.”
“I don’t think he’s a mechanic. He looks like a courier.”
“Why would a courier pull over to help us?”
Indeed, why would he? But that was definitely a uniform bedecked upon the tanned man’s body. He took one close look at Adrienne and pulled an envelope out of his inside jacket pocket. Adrienne raised her eyebrows in suspicion as the man walked up to her side of the car, the steam still spilling out of the hood. He paid it no mind as he asked in flawless English, “Are you Adrienne Thomas?”
She sat back as far as she could in her leather seat. “Yes? What is this about?”
The letter landed in her lap. “Merry Christmas, ma’am.” The courier returned to his bike and took off, never once offering to help them out of their predicament.
“What the fuck?” Amber snatched the letter out of Adrienne’s lap. “That was weird.”
Adrienne concurred, even though she was used to “weird” as a billionaire. Manners and expectations completely changed at that level. How “weird” was it really to have a courier stop them in the middle of an Italian road and hand them a letter from halfway around the world? Because even though the letter didn’t have a return address, it reeked of American meddling. Adrienne would know all about that, after all.
Amber had opened the letter before Adrienne had the chance to grab it back. “Whoa. This is some serious stationery. Feels and smells like something that would come out of your desk. Assuming you were trying to communicate with Lady Winchester.”
“Let me see that, please.” Adrienne finally had the letter in her hands. That’s when she realized it was not a letter, but an invitation. One that was as sparse as it was succinct.
To Ms. Adrienne Thomas
It would please me greatly if you and your significant other would join us at the described location for New Year’s. I understand that this is last minute, but I believe that a woman of your standing and lifestyle would not want to miss what we have to unveil. You are not the only ones invited. It will be a company of like minds.
Sincerely,
A New Friend
The location listed was halfway around the world, and across the country from home. Naturally, Adrienne had no idea what to make of any of this.
“That’s… a tad mysterious.” Amber was overcome with a wave of chills. “That person seriously dropped off that to us in the middle of nowhere? In Italy? The invitation is for some place in California!”
“It sure is,” Adrienne said with a sigh. “I also have no idea what to make of it. But somehow I’m also not surprised by these antics, either.” For all she knew, the car breaking down was an elaborate stunt by God so the courier could catch up to them. He probably had half a million other deliveries to make right before Christmas. “I don’t even want to think about that right now. Where the hell is Ethan and the tow truck?”
Amber continued to mull over the invitation until Ethan arrived ten minutes later. Or at least Adrienne hoped that the mysterious stranger in the Lamborghini coming up behind them wasn’t mysterious after all.
“Well, have a gander at this, honey.” Ethan rolled down the windows on his Lambo and called over his wife’s curly black head. Jasmine caught sight of Amber and Adrienne in their broken down Ferrari and blushed on their behalf. “This is what happens when Adrienne drives in foreign countries. You should see what happens at home. There are usually emergency vehicles involved.”
“Ha ha, Ethan!” Adrienne got out of the car and glowered upon his head. “Did you come out all this way to gloat that you’re still a better driver, or are you going to help us?”
“Not even a thank you?”
“You’ll get one after you’ve done more than drive ten kilometers out of your way.”
Ethan pulled over in front of them and took a quick look beneath the hood. The Ferrari threatened to spew steam upon his Armani suit, so he backed off and waited for the tow truck to arrive five minutes later.
“He says you really fucked something up,” Ethan muttered to Adrienne. They both leaned against the hood of his Lambo while Amber and Jasmine talked in their seats. “Were you flooring it down the highway because there’s nobody else on the road?”
“No! Really, between you and Amber, I’m starting to think that I should have my license revoked. Or at least that’s what you two make it sound like.”
“He says he’s never seen damage like this before. And that it’s definitely not a manufacturer’s error. You did it.”
“It’s a rental! It could’ve been damaged by the person before us!”
“Then the mechanics at the rental place really have something to answer for.”
“Indeed they do!”
The tow truck driver hooked the Ferrari to his vehicle and pulled it down the road. The sleek sports car looked absolutely pathetic attached to that half-rusted truck. Adrienne was already adding up her complaints to the rental agency when she hopped into the back of Ethan’s Lambo and prepared to go back to the villa.
“Ethan!” Jasmine said as soon as he was back behind the wheel. “You’ve got to see this. Amber says some courier delivered it to them just now while they were broken down.”
Ethan briefly glanced over the invitation while he buckled up his seatbelt. “That must have been the guy who stopped by the house before hopping back on his bike. Was he driving a red motorbike?”
“Yeah!” Amber confirmed. “And wore a sleek black uniform. He was by the villa?”
“Yes. I told him that you were currently out and offered to hold onto the message for you, but he was insistent that it was not allowed. Who the hell is this thing from for them to give instructions like that? Let alone making people deliver letters on Christmas Eve… don’t they know this is a Catholic country?”
“Says the man who had the villa housekeepers working until noon today,” Jasmine muttered.
“They have the rest of today and all of tomorrow off. So?”
“I have no idea who sent the invitation,” Adrienne interjected. “Some Californian whack-job.”
“How do you know they’re Californian?” Ethan pointed to the corner of the parchment. “This is not American stationery. I’ve seen it before. Mr. Liu from Singapore sends us messages on parchment identical to this. It’s probably Chinese in origin.”
“You think Mr. Liu sent that?”
“No! But are you going?”
“I don’t know. I just want to get back to the damn villa right now.”
Ethan drove them back while Jasmine and Amber discussed how creepy this situation now seemed. Was it a coincidence that they broke down just so the courier could give them this letter? Quite the conspiracy! The perfect fodder for two women like them to discuss during the twenty minute drive back to the Coles’ Italian villa. By the time Adrienne reached her guest room and plopped down onto the bed in a huff, she had decided to call her assistant back in America and make him spend half his Christmas Eve investigating the origins of this strange invitation.
Amber politely informed her that was a terrible thing to make her assistant do, especially after giving him the whole week of Christmas off. What? I gave him a hefty bonus! He can deal with it! What do I pay him for, anyway?
But Amber was right. It really wasn’t in the Christmas spirit to make her poor assistant work on something pointless. Because whoever could afford to get an invitation like that into Adrienne’s hands out in the middle of Nowhere, Italy, would have also spared no expense in making sure it could not be traced back to them.
She decided to take her mind off it by presenting her girlfriend with the ring from Tiffany’s. Amber had completely forgotten about exchanging gifts a day early and nearly had a heart attack seeing a Tiffany’s engagement ring in a little blue box. Not that Adrienne asked her to get married. She left that ball in Amber’s court and waited to see what finger she wore it on.
That would have to wait until Christmas, however. Because Amber’s favorite way to thank her girlfriend for rock candy was to take off everything else she wore. Not that Adrienne complained. That was exactly the kind of distraction she was looking for.