The rough texture of jeans brushed against her arm, forcing Katherine out of her trance and to take notice of the guy who had just boarded the train. It was hard to mistake the eye contact that took place—he was all but staring. She glanced away, but his laser beam stare made her look up.
From a distance, it was hard to tell the exact color of his eyes. For certain, the green stood out—glowing like shimmering emeralds. If she had to guess, there was gold surrounding those emeralds. Not wanting to be completely obvious, she studied the stacks of reservation confirmations strategically placed in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the mysterious man settle onto the seat catty-corner from her. For whatever reason, she had a sense her life was about to change dramatically.
“We will be arriving at the Firenze station in approximately forty-five minutes,” the conductor’s voice boomed through the speakers, startling her. Firenze, or Florence, was the next destination. Florence was a romantic city known for various artists and poets, and she hoped it would be everything she imagined.
Katherine was meticulous in everything she did in life. When planning the trip, she dotted every “I” and crossed every “T.” She calculated the distance from the train station to the hotel and found the quickest way to get there was to walk. However, the stories of drug dealing and pickpocketing in Florence convinced her it would be best to take a taxi to the hotel the first time.
The cabin grew dark and claustrophobic as the train was swallowed up by a tunnel. With no scenery to view, Katherine observed the blurred faces reflecting against the window. Intrigued by the man who had captured her attention, she quickly gazed at him through the reflection. Her skin tingled as goose bumps formed across her flesh. When she realized he was staring at her, her heart skipped a couple of beats and she looked away.
A magnetic force pulled her attention back to the reflection of the dark-haired man with the piercing eyes. Knowing he couldn’t see her watching, she studied what appeared to be a work of art. In her mind, an Italian man was average height, about five-foot-eleven, with brown eyes, olive skin, dark hair slicked back, and lots of gold chains hanging over his hairy chest onto his velour Adidas jumpsuit. The stereotype was all but shattered when she arrived in Venice five days ago. If this man was Italian, he certainly didn’t fit the image she had conjured up. Sure, he had dark hair and olive skin, but that was where the similarities ended. He was tall with dark brown hair and a strong jawline that was covered with a couple of days’ worth of stubble. He wore jeans, a black shirt, and some sort of black soccer jacket advertising a team she never heard of. Needless to say, he wasn’t just handsome—he was drop-dead gorgeous.
The train emerged from the tunnel and light filled the cabin. The view out the window changed dramatically. To her surprise, it was vibrant green and lush with lots of foliage and vegetation. It rivaled states like Georgia and Florida with various shades of green everywhere. Florence, being part of the Tuscany region, was known for its spectacular wines. As a result, there were no shortages of small vineyards in sight. May was clearly a beautiful time of year to travel through the Italian countryside.
“Scusi?” Someone tapped on her shoulder. She looked up to find two female attendants pushing a beverage cart through the cabin. In a very strong Italian accent, one of the women offered a drink and a snack.
“Prego. May I please have some white wine?”
“Si.” The attendant poured the clear liquid into a glass and handed it to her.
“Grazie.” The countryside passed by the window as she set down the glass. The attendant moved on to Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. With a deep husky voice and a thick Italian accent, he greeted the women and ordered water. The words flowed off his tongue like a thirty-year-old scotch. A sweltering fire roared to life inside of Katherine, leaving her with a sense of pleasure and a hint of embarrassment. Perhaps it was the sip of fruity wine she allowed to permeate her mouth. Or maybe it was the handsome stranger sitting across the aisle.
The gorgeous man smiled and winked at her, causing her to quickly shift her attention back to the window. Even though she was done mourning the loss of Mike, she was in no way ready to move on. She needed to find herself and accept being alone. No, she would just appreciate the good looks of the stranger next to her, and get on with the trip.
Hills lined with vineyards and small houses made of brick and stucco came into view as the train hummed along the tracks, enticing her into a trance. How did she get to this very spot at this moment? Alone on a train heading to Florence. Not in a million years would she ever have predicted this.
As they so often did, her thoughts went to Mike. Catching him cheating had been devastating; it had rocked her core, and many times she found herself collapsed in the middle of her apartment sobbing. She had to stop thinking about what might have been; she had to get on with her life. That was when she decided to go on the honeymoon they had been planning. She would go alone and have the fresh start she needed to come back and start life over.
She continued staring out the window, but saw only Mike’s face. A tendril of sandy blonde hair that fell onto his forehead and his sparkling, crystal blue eyes as he smiled and melted her heart, robbing her of any ability to say no.
An impact from the cart jolted her forward and forced her back to the present. She rubbed the back of her arm as the attendants apologized profusely at the intrusion. She smiled and reassured them that everything was fine. She reached for the napkin occupied by the wine glass and blotted her eyes. It was the first time she had cried since shortly after arriving in Venice.
The speakers crackled as the conductor announced the train was arriving in Florence. The car slowed and the view out the window was replaced with graffiti-ridden walls. Not the welcome she had expected, but she was still excited to get to the city. She finished the wine, packed up all of her paperwork, and tucked the hotel reservation and confirmation neatly into her purse. She sat back and waited for the train to stop and the adventure in Florence to begin.