In which Cora was not expecting that.
Cora…
Six weeks later…
“Oh, my god this is incredible!” Kelli says blissfully, as she leans back on her elbows, face turned up to the sun.
Kelli’s an Australian I met at a Zurich hostel, we hit it off and despite my rule about not making friends, I found myself swept away by her enthusiasm and we’ve hopped through Liechtenstein and Austria before settling in Venice to pick up a part-time job to make some money before moving on. Of course, I don’t need to be bartending in the little restaurant near theLido di Venezia, I’ve got enough funds to last me for years if I’m careful, but Kelli does need the cash.
It’s our afternoon off and we’re lounging on the beach, listening to a surprisingly talented guitarist playing for his lady love next to us and soaking in the sun. I’m staring at the perfect swirls of azure of the Adriatic Sea and thinking about the history of this place.
“Did you know that crusaders on their way to the Holy Land used to set up camp right where we are?” I ask her lazily, digging my toes into the white sand.
“Did you know that hot-as-balls guy has been staring at you for the last ten minutes?” Kelli retorted.
“Not interested,” I sighed. The last thing I need is a romantic entanglement. Too messy. Besides, just being in Italy is making me itchy with anxiety. The Toscano Mafia’s main base is in Naples, but it’s too close for comfort. I really should have dragged Kelli to Greece, at least.
“You’re never interested,” she shook her head disapprovingly. “If anyone ever needed to get laid, mate, it would be you. No, really. He’s got that swarthy, dark-haired look, a real spunk!”
“A what?Spunk?Is this an Australian term?” I dissolve into laughter, “Then he must be a god amongst men!”
“A god? I hope you are speaking about me.” A deep voice and a shadow fall over us.
Kelli looks up with a blinding smile as I groan silently. I’ve dyed my hair blonde, and wear contact lenses to make my eyes brown but I feel a rush of anxiety and suspicion whenever a man approaches me.
It’s not just that irritating and very persistent Dario Toscano, though my heart still pounds when I think about my near-escape in Lichtenstein. He showed up with some of his soldiers, I barely escaped out of the back entrance of the little hotel we were staying in as he came in the front. I did see his cold, intent expression as he looked around the lobby for me. He looked just as gorgeous as I remembered. And pissed off. Thank god Kelli was already waiting for me at the train station.
Just to keep my “to-do” list full, I’m also avoiding the men my father has sent out looking for me, and even if I dodgethoseguys, there’s still the real fear that someone employed by my jilted fiancé might stumble on me.
Wouldn’tthatjust be my luck?
Mr. Deep Voice has crouched down, elbows on his knees and arms dangling.“Ehi signore,hello ladies, I’m Christos, here on vacation.”
“Well, g’day Christos, here on vacation, I’m Kelli, and that girl over there who is definitely not sleeping is Cora.”
Thanks so much, Kelli,I think bitterly before forcing a smile. “Hi there.” He’s a skinny thing, but cute. Big Greek nose and dark curly hair, and he smiles back eagerly.
I’ve never thought I had a “type” and after ten weeks of hell in the Black Forest, I didn’t think I would ever look at a man again without wanting to scream, or vomit, or both. That said, I find myself thinking about a certain tall, hugely muscled man with amber eyes more often than I’d like.
“Hello, Cora and Kelli. You are also here on vacation?” Christos asks. He’s nice, not trying to ooze any closer, with a friendly, open posture and a bright smile.
“We are,” says Kelli, the wingman I most certainly did not want, “we’re settled here for a bit to make some money before heading on to wherever the wind takes us.”
“Free spirits,” he says approvingly.
“Hmm, free spirits that have to get to work,” I remind Kelli, standing up and shaking out my towel. His appreciative gaze makes me regret that I’m wearing the red bikini Kelli convinced me to buy last week.
“Ugh, you’re right,” she sighs. “Christos, you should stop by tonight. We work atBrezza Marina,that little place just down the beach?”
“I know it,” he nods cheerfully. “I will come by with a couple of friends, yes?”
“Excellent!” she chirps, nudging me not so subtly right in the ribs.
“Well, great,” I smile feebly, “we’ll see you later, maybe.”
“I will be there,” he promises, waving goodbye.
There’s something about the way Christos said it, just the slightest tinge of dark that makes me look back at him again. He’s still standing there, smiling amiably and I shake my head. Paranoia will keep me alive, but sometimes, itisstill possible that not everyone is out to get me.
