Her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun, the pearls around her neck, a short sleeve button-up shirt, and the slim-fitting khaki pants were quintessential east coast America travel attire. When she ordered the wine, her New York accent was prominent.
Tony watched the woman with the swollen, red eyes as she stared out the window. The woman was clearly distracted, and seeing the silent tears fall from her face was disheartening. The display of raw emotion pulled at Tony’s heart. His desire to comfort and wipe the tears off the woman’s face was overpowered by his instincts to survive, severing any remaining strings tugging at his emotions.
Tony had his own troubles to worry about; his family had been murdered and he had to figure out why. Traveling discreetly around the country under a fake identity was not an easy task. Not to mention that his dad had sent him on a wild goose chase. Figuring out how to bring the cartel to justice and get out of Italy before anyone found out he was indeed alive was going to be difficult enough.
He quietly shifted to the empty seat across the way. The woman didn’t notice as he leaned over the aisle to get a better look at the mounds of papers. Bingo! Just what he hoped; there was a confirmation for a hotel in Florence. He noticed she had reserved a honeymoon suite. Why? He hadn’t seen anyone else traveling with her. Could there possibly be someone else she was with? One thing was for sure, he would need to follow the woman and make sure she was traveling alone.
As the American woman scurried off of the train, Tony grabbed his backpack containing what was left of his belongings. All that he had was in the pack. Fortunately, it made for easier travel. Having more would only weigh him down.
As he attempted to exit the train, an elderly woman with a cane blocked his path. He stopped to assist her down the steps and when he got the woman stable on the platform, he looked into the crowd. There were thousands of heads and many were blocked by the pillars strategically placed on the platform. Where was the American woman? Shit! He searched the sea of people before finally seeing her head toward the exit of the train station, moving at a surprisingly fast pace. If it weren’t for the blonde hair that stood out like a beacon in a sea of dark-haired people, he probably would have lost her.
Tony raced to catch up, as she had stopped and was talking to someone. He walked faster and pushed through the crowd, shortening the distance between him and the woman. She was asking a man for directions for a taxi. There seemed to be a language barrier because the man shook his head and shrugged. A well-dressed lady in a black Armani business suit moved in close. The blue-eyed, blonde-haired woman from the States had become a target. He sprinted toward the crime that was about to take place.
“Lasciala stare! Lei è con me!” Tony shouted.
The dark-haired woman startled and quickly moved on to her next victim.
The American woman turned around and stared at him. The look of naiveté sent a knife through his heart, forcing him to take a step back. Even in a state of vulnerability, the American woman was smoking hot! Her eyes were still a bit puffy and red, but they were a crystal blue so light you could almost see right through them. Her nose was petite and tipped up slightly at the end. Perfect. It was the type of nose women tried to get through plastic surgery, but it looked completely natural on her. Her cheekbones were high, providing an element of sophistication. Her looks, along with her thin frame, convinced Tony she must have been a model at some point.
“Scusi, can you help me? Do you speak English?”
“Si. I mean yes, I do.”
The woman’s shoulders relaxed and she placed one hand on her hip. “I’m trying to find the taxis. Can you help me?”
“Oh yes, of course. Follow me.” Tony had been to this station hundreds of times. Having lived and worked in Italy most of his life afforded him the opportunity to travel to the various cities throughout the country.
A circular driveway housing multiple taxis loomed in the distance. Several drivers stood next to the cars smoking cigarettes and conversing while awaiting their next passenger. “Here you are. Most of these men can speak English. They’ll able to get you to your destination.”
The woman extended her hand. “Grazie. Thank you so much for your help.”
Tony’s mouth curved upward in an attempt to hold back the laughter at the woman’s attempt to use the native language. “You’re welcome. Be careful out there. Someone was trying to steal something out of your pocket. Make sure your bags are zipped up and never leave anything in your pockets when traveling through the train stations.”
Horror washed over her face. “Oh my gosh! Thank you. Who was it? Who tried to take my money?”
“The woman who rubbed up against you in the station. They are all around and looking for their next target. Be careful.”
“Grazie. Thank you for the advice.”
The woman waved good-bye and rushed to the taxis. She held up a paper for the driver. The address for her suite, presumably. Tony didn’t need to follow the cab because he already knew where she was going and for how long. He started his trek away from Stazione di Santa Maria Novella and up Via Nazionale, the street leading to his hotel.