That night.
That night at Drink and Dive when she’d performed the short con.
And her mark had been none other than Rocco Vittori.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
NICO
Nico had booked a room at the Hotel de la Ville, a small hotel in the town of Monza. She’d declined Celeste’s invitation to stay at Dario’s parents’ villa on Lake Como. If Dario was staying at the villa, that meant Rocco was too.
Things are improving between us. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Not when we’re doing so much better on the track.
So why do you feel more uncomfortable around him now than you did before?
You know why.
That dream.
After paying the driver, she stood alongside her suitcase outside the hotel, gazing up at its cream walls adorned with ivy draping from its rooftop like a stunning emerald necklace.
Entering the hotel felt more like entering the home of a count or a marquis. The mahogany walls were decorated with portraits of what Nico could only guess were members of the nobility from days gone by.
When she walked into her suite, the sun was streaming through the French doors that led out onto a balcony. All the furnishings were made of rich dark wood. Scattered about were Chinese vases, a Tibetan chest, and eighteenth-century painted fans. In the bedroom, a king-sized canopy bed with an intricately carved wooden headboard was draped with fine silk fabric. The marble bathroom was equipped with both a spacious walk-in shower and a claw-foot bathtub.
She sighed, staggered over to the bed, and collapsed. Her sluggish eyelids blinked twice before shutting altogether. She told herself she would nap for an hour. Then she would walk around the town, get some dinner, and then head back here for a good night’s sleep. No sooner had she completed this thought than she’d drifted off.
When she opened her eyes, it took her a moment to realize where she was. The sky was a deep purple. Soon, it would be black. How long had she been asleep?
She got out of bed and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was eight o’clock. Dinner was still possible and, beyond that, a necessity, she thought as her stomach grumbled.
She jumped in the shower and once out, towel-dried her hair. She threw on jeans and a sweater, shoved her feet into a pair of her favorite sneakers, and grabbed her purse.
MaybeI’ll bring some food back, buy a bottle of wine, and sit out on the balcony. It’s so lovely.
Just then Nico blinked as something flew from the sky.
She opened the French doors and saw two stuffed toys.
One appeared to be either Thing One or Thing Two from Dr. Seuss’sThe Cat in the Hat. She couldn’t tell which because the circle on its chest that would have told her was missing, leaving a gaping hole. The other was a doll—a girl with short blonde hair, wearing a superhero costume.
After picking them up, she leaned over the railing, glanced up, and spied two smiling faces looking down at her.
Holding up the two items, she cleared her throat and asked in Italian, “Do these belong to you?”
The girls looked at each other, giggling.
Okay, so her Italian sucked.
“Are you American?” the taller one asked in impeccable English.
Nico nodded. “How can you tell?”
They giggled some more.
“So,” Nico ventured. “I take it these belong to you?”
They nodded.
