The Sweet Life

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The Sweet Life Page 6

by Sharon Struth

Bernie rolled his eyes, but a smile played on his lips.

  Mamie adored their warm relationship, the kind of love that grew over the span of marriage. How many times had she and Ted talked about what they’d be like some forty years into their marriage? They’d never know now. Her heart ached for all the lost dreams.

  “Hey, Julian!” another tour member yelled across the room, breaking Mamie’s thoughts.

  Mamie didn’t know him, but he always sat toward the bus’s back. He had a thick New York City accent and his slicked back salt-and-pepper hair made him look like he could own the local pizzeria.

  Julian glanced over while slipping a mug under the stainless-steel coffee maker. “Yes, Mr. Bruno?”

  “Please. Call me Frank. I’ve been thinking how you look familiar.”

  Julian pulled the lever to fill his mug, but his jawline tightened. “I’m pretty sure we haven’t met.”

  “Ever live in the Bronx?”

  He let the coffee lever go and turned around to face Frank. “Nope. Nowhere near it.”

  “Ah, well...guess these old eyes are failing me.”

  Julian chuckled with a few others as he walked toward a small table in the corner carrying his mug and plate. Frank continued to stare at him, though.

  “I know!” Frank said, loudly. “Ever watch that show Exploring the World with Eddie?”

  Several heads turned and looked toward Julian.

  His smile stiffened. “Nope. Why?”

  “You kinda look like Eddie.” Frank squinted and jutted out his chin while he stared more closely. “Yup, that’s it.”

  More people stopped eating and glanced Julian’s way.

  His starched-on smile didn’t budge. “Well, they say everyone has a doppelganger. Eddie must be mine.” He changed his direction and left the dining room.

  “Huh,” Joel said. “He does resemble the host, if the guy let himself go.”

  Mamie didn’t watch much television and had never heard of the program. She turned to him. “What’s the show about?”

  “Another one of those cable adventure programs. We’ve seen it a few times. The guy is a real daredevil, explorer type. Travels the world, visiting places and doing things the rest of us are too chicken to do.” Joel took a piece of bacon off Tina’s plate and brought it close to his lips.

  Bernie nodded. “I prefer my travel in an air-conditioned bus with three square meals. Where I have no worries about wild animals or natural disasters.”

  Tina excitedly jumped in. “He once did a show in Iceland while a volcano was erupting and the officials there almost threw him out of the country because he wouldn’t stay out of harm’s way. That doesn’t sound at all like Julian.”

  Sandra pushed her nearly finished plate away from the spot in front of her. “Gosh, he almost didn’t allow Mamie to use her uncle’s tickets because it broke his company rules.”

  Mamie chuckled. “You’re right. Julian doesn’t act like a man who’d do those things.”

  And yet, he had reacted.

  After breakfast, Mamie returned to her room. She had close to an hour before Paolo arrived to take her on a scooter tour so she grabbed her computer and checked her email.

  When through, she searched the Internet for the show Frank Bruno had mentioned. Before she could look at the results, her phone rang so she answered.

  “Ciao. It’s Paolo.”

  “Oh hi. I mean ciao to you too.”

  “Be there in fifteen minutes. I’ll pull up front. Parking is hard to find near the hotel.”

  “Sounds good. See you soon.”

  She hurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Later on, she’d see if she could find the show.

  * * * *

  Julian’s view from the rooftop patio did little to improve his shitty mood. He pushed aside his plate and leaned back in the chair, drawing in a long breath.

  He’d been looking forward to today, a chance to get in a run, take care of some administrative work. But Frank Bruno’s connection between Julian and Eddie completely unnerved him.

  Since Julian started with the tour company, only one other passenger had recognized him. It was before his facial hair had filled in and the short hair he had on the show had grown. He’d denied it then, just as he had today. Hopefully his response put Frank’s ideas to rest and didn’t get anybody else thinking the same.

  Julian downed his coffee in one gulp and took his plates back downstairs. The dining area had emptied out other than two couples who weren’t with the tour.

  He mentally formed a list of things to get done, starting with confirming some upcoming reservations already made for the remainder of their trip, followed up by his run.

  On his way through the lobby, he spotted Mamie. She clutched her backpack straps near her shoulders, and peered anxiously out the hotel front doors.

  Oh right. How could he have forgotten her plans today with Uncle Paolo? Who the hell was this guy? A jab of irritation rushed at Julian. The idea he didn’t know what they were doing or where they planned on going nagged at him. She should be hanging out with Sandra and Bernie, like he’d seen her do a few times.

  He debated on going over, flat out asking about her plans. What if this guy was a serial killer? Julian would have no idea even where to send the police if she didn’t return, other than the tie to San Gimignano.

  He reached the elevator. As he swiped the button, he imagined the call he’d need to make to Claudia if Mamie went missing.

  “I’ve lost a passenger, Claudia.”

  “What?” Claudia would say in her thick German accent. “Who?”

  “Her name is Mamie Weber.”

  “I don’t see a Mamie Weber on your tour documentation.”

  “Oh, you won’t. She’s here because she had someone else’s ticket and I let her join us.”

  She’d fire him in an instant. Like a few others before him who hadn’t taken the company’s rules seriously.

  The elevator door dinged open. Instead of going inside, he turned around and followed a straight line to Mamie. She shifted onto one knee and her denim shorts tightened on one side. He admired her absolutely worthy backside, especially in that pose. Not to mention those slender, long legs. He followed a trail up the curve of her waist and stopped at the tip of her ponytail, resting between her shoulder blades.

  He stopped at the door a few feet away and pretended to look outside, too. “Beautiful day.”

  “It is.”

  A car sped by. Her head turned with it as it disappeared down the road.

  He cleared his throat, hoping she’d look at him. “What’s going on?”

  She glanced his way for only a split second before returning to her car-watching vigil. “I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Oh. Got some sightseeing plans?”

  “Yup.” She glanced at her watch then looked his way. “You must enjoy having a little time away from the group. Your job seems pretty demanding.”

  “I enjoy sharing my knowledge about places with others.”

  She nodded, gave him a quick smile. “You do a great job of it.”

  “Thanks.” Another car passed, reminding him he’d better get to the point. “So, where you headed today?”

  “A scooter ride in the country.”

  “Scooters?” Aw, Christ. His first scooter ride had been precarious, at best. “Italian’s drive passionately, like they do everything else. An inexperienced scooter driver will have to deal with cars going well over the speed limit.”

  She stared at him, but said nothing.

  “I mean, it’s an accident waiting to happen. Whoever is taking you—”

  “Someone I met yesterday. In San Gimignano.”

  “Oh? Is that the stranger you followed into an alley?”

  Her cheeks reddened. “You were watching me?”

&n
bsp; “I was nearby having lunch,” he lied. No way would he admit why he’d been following her, even though he could chalk it up to tour safety. Problem was, deep down his reasons seemed to go beyond that. “You should be careful. Italian men have been known to take advantage of beautiful American tourists.”

  “Then I’m off the hook,” she said with a sarcastic little snort and returned to staring outside the door, her jaw tight and lips pursed.

  Did she not think she was beautiful? “I’m serious, Mamie. Those scooters aren’t as safe as they look.”

  “What? They look fun. Like in Roman Holiday.” Her rich brown eyes took on a nostalgic gleam. “In the movie, it was glamorous and exciting to see—”

  “It’s a movie.”

  Her brows furrowed. “I’m beginning to think you might be the oldest person on our tour.”

  She cracked a “gotcha” grin, but the dig hit him in the gut and he didn’t laugh.

  “Look...” She turned and faced him. “I plan on enjoying as much as Tuscany has to offer that I can. Not only the things you deem safe.”

  “Yes, but you’re on my tour.”

  She sighed. “Not on my free time.” Looking both ways out the glass doors, she mumbled under her breath, “Come on, Paolo.”

  “Ask Beppe about driving in this country. He drives our bus all day. Italians perceive their national traffic laws as a loose set of guidelines.”

  She laughed, a sarcastic little hoot. “You exaggerate.”

  “Not one bit. I almost had my knee taken out by a reckless car while riding a scooter.” Okay, so he’d heard a friend talking about someone it happened to. “You have no idea how the Italians drive.”

  “Trust me. I’ve got an idea. My cab ride from the airport was like the chase scene in The French Connection. But I’ll be on country roads.” A piece of her chestnut hair slipped from her ponytail and she tucked it behind her ear. “Don’t you think you might be overreacting? Just a little?”

  He tried a new tack. “In this job, the responsibility falls on me to keep everyone safe.”

  “And I’m impressed you take your job to heart, but...” She paused and thought for a second, a wistful gaze in her eye. “Try to understand. This may be my only trip here.” She shrugged her slender shoulders. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

  He kept his sympathy for her under lock and key this time. “Mamie, I stuck my neck out letting you join us. If you get hurt and Claudia finds out, my ass is on the line.”

  Her expression shifted. Finally, he might win this argument. A cranberry-red Alfa Romeo pulled up to the curb and all his hope withered. The handsome Italian who’d taken her to the restaurant sat in the driver’s seat, flashing his pearly whites and waving.

  “My ride’s here. I’ll be back in time for the Chianti tour.” Mamie pushed open the door. Before stepping out, she glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  Julian watched her get in. Paolo leaned over and gave her a kiss on the lips. What went on during lunch yesterday?

  Pressure squeezed his chest. Jealousy? No, more annoyance that she hadn’t stayed behind.

  He glanced at his watch. Five hours until they left for Chianti. He’d be counting every minute of it, hoping she got back on time and in one piece.

  * * * *

  Freedom.

  A warm summer breeze fondled Mamie’s skin while she roared on the scooter past rolling hills, where elegant cypress trees leaned with a gentle gust and orderly fields of varying patterns seemed sketched by the hand of man. Cotton candy clouds as far as the eye could see mingled against a perfect blue sky. If nirvana existed, it was here.

  The beauty of Tuscany through a car window didn’t compare to the wonderment of racing past the fields in the open air. An awareness that pulled her into another world. She felt alive and—

  Whoosh!!!

  A small car whizzed past her, rattling the scooter with a blast of air. Mamie gripped the handles. This one cut it closer than the last few. God, were these people blind?

  Julian hadn’t been wrong about Italian drivers. Paolo’s driving speeds on the way here gave her reason to be concerned. Italians never appeared to be in a rush, except when they stepped into a vehicle.

  Mamie had asked Paolo to be mindful while they drove their scooters, this being her first time using one. He now rode up ahead, his speed fast but not terrifying. He glanced over his shoulder, motioned to the roadside, then pulled his bike there and stopped. She pulled alongside him.

  “It’s beautiful, yes?” Paolo flashed his bright smile.

  No woman would ever tire of his accent or his looks. And that kiss in the car, so unexpected but certainly welcome. “Sì. It really is.”

  “In a few miles, we will stop and eat the lunch my chef packed. My speed, it is good?”

  “Perfect.”

  He appeared satisfied and they continued. She kept one eye on the sights, another eye on the road. Paolo might be a bit of a player, but she liked how he worked overtime to make her comfortable. His friend owned the scooter company and had let them go out unguided. She almost wished for a guide, though. For safety reasons.

  All her concern switched to irritation. This worry, it was Julian’s fault. Here she’d been trying hard to embrace Ted’s enthusiasm for life while Julian kept putting his stamp of disapproval on her ideas.

  Maybe when he was a kid, his mother made him nervous about trying new things. Or he’d experienced too many setbacks himself. Although, he had put himself on the line by letting her on the bus that first day. A kind of bravery of its own.

  She made a mental vow to be extra careful for Julian as she tried to complete her bucket list items.

  Paolo motioned with his arm for her to make a right turn ahead. Behind her, a loud rumble neared. It got louder. And louder. Suddenly so close the menacing roar made her feel like a machine was chasing her. She signaled a turn with her hand then let up on the gas.

  The bike slowed; however, the noisy vehicle rumbled louder with each passing second. She motioned with her hand signal more emphatically, daring to glance back. The driver of a small truck held a cell phone to his ear, seeming oblivious to her.

  She faced the front and maneuvered her bike closer to the road’s edge, lifted her arm again to signal for the turn—

  Slam! Mamie sailed through the air.

  Chapter 6

  Julian used the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his brow, wishing now he’d brought a water bottle for his run. He turned down a shaded side street, finding some respite from the noonday sun.

  At the street’s end, a section of the magnificent main church of Siena became visible. He continued to the end, where the street opened to the large square housing the structure. Pausing for a moment, he took in the cathedral’s gothic peaks, an edifice with majesty of its very own. Inside, artistic treasures by Pisano, Donatello, and Michelangelo awed visitors and he hoped some of his passengers visited her today.

  The zipped pocket of his shorts vibrated from his phone’s ring. He took it out, glanced at the display, and sent it straight into voice mail. A third call this week from Gary. Julian suspected it wouldn’t be the last.

  The Exploring the World with Eddie producer—and the person who’d fired him from the show—could be described in one word: relentless.

  He continued his run, going past the cathedral and toward another street with shade. As he ran downhill, he passed arched doorways and splintered shutters. A car approached. Julian slowed and waited near several parked cars squeezed tightly together. The narrow thoroughfare would have been an unsuitable road for both cars and drivers most places in the world, but in Siena, pedestrians and cars competed for the same space like a game of chicken.

  God, he loved this crazy country. Strange how fate pulled the rug out from beneath him, but landed him a job stationed in Rome to do
tours of Italy. The one place that truly felt like home.

  Fond memories. Their family home on the Italian coast. Holidays spent with his parents and sister, far from the TV show and their life of adventure. He last talked to Jenny about six months ago. His sister, so unlike him. Her quiet life in the States with her hard-working husband and two kids had never appealed to Julian, although lately he could admit the reasons he pushed away such a commitment came from a deep-rooted place. One blocked until the accident on his show...

  He shook off the grief about to drag him down and jogged in the hotel’s direction. Two blocks from the hotel, his cell phone rang again. Goddamn Gary! Julian’s jaw tightened as he reached into his pocket to shut the phone off. Beppe’s name stretched across the display, so he answered.

  “Abbiamo un problema....” Beppe spoke fast and sounded upset.

  “What kind of problem?”

  He turned down a street and the phone went silent. “Hello? Hello?”

  The phone showed no bars. Julian continued checking for better service as he ran faster, hoping to God Beppe made the call from the hotel.

  He rounded a corner near the entrance. An Alfa Romeo just like the one Mamie left in this morning parked at an angle near the entrance, both the passenger’s and driver’s doors left open.

  Images of scooters and crazy drivers flashed in his mind’s eye. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Maybe it was something else, another passenger or... Who was he kidding? It had to be her. Suddenly her safety mattered more than anything. All she’d been trying to do was enjoy herself, have the trip of a lifetime because for some reason he wished he understood, she needed that. His theory she’d come here because she was sick hadn’t been disproven, but lately she seemed rested. Still, what could explain her sadness during moments he secretly watched her? Now if she got hurt...

  He blew out a breath and pushed open the hotel’s glass entrance doors. A blast of cool air slapped his damp, hot skin. Across the lobby, a small crowd stood gathered around one sofa. Beppe spotted Julian and waved.

  He hurried over and the crowd parted. Mamie lay stretched out on the beige cushioned couch, Paolo kneeling at her side and wiping her dirt-stained face, arms, and legs. Blood oozed from a cut on her arm. Paolo’s expression carried the worry Julian felt inside.

 

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