'I Do'...Take Two!

“The meet and greet at the headquarters is set for one, followed by a tour of their engine manufacturing facility.”

“I need ten minutes. How about we catch you before the meet and greet?”

“Who’s we?”

He shot a glance through the double doors of the breakfast room. The sunlight pouring through the windows made a golden nimbus of Kate’s hair. With her creamy skin and classic features, she could have posed for one of the Renaissance masters whose paintings filled Florence’s museums.

Before he could answer, Ellis connected the dots. “You dog! You convinced your wife to take you back?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Then by all means, let’s get together in Modena.”

“Great. See you a little before one.”

Pocketing the phone, he strolled back to his curious wife. “If you don’t mind putting Florence on hold for another day, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“The phantom Carlo?”

“No, a guy named Brian Ellis. He and Carlo and I... Well...”

“I know, I know. You can’t talk about it.”

“Ellis is visiting the Maserati factory in Modena this afternoon. It’s just north of Bologna, about a hundred klicks from here, autostrada all the way. We could get there and back in time to watch the sun set over the Arno.”

Kate arched a brow. “First a Ferrari, now a factory full of Maseratis. You’re coming up in the world, Westbrook.”

“Could be,” he muttered under his breath as he reclaimed both his seat and his coffee. “Most definitely could be.”

Kate didn’t catch the low comment. His mention of Bologna had triggered something in her memory cells. The city hadn’t made her must-see list. Not surprising, with everything Rome and Florence and Milan had to offer a first-time visitor, but it might be worth a short visit.

“You order breakfast,” she instructed Travis, “while I check out what else there is to see in Bologna and Modena besides Maseratis.”

A bunch, she discovered after a quick search on her iPhone. The city of Bologna dated back more than three thousand years. With its central location smack-dab in the middle of the Italian boot, it had survived and flourished under subsequent waves of Etruscans, Celts, Romans and medieval lords.

“Bologna’s home to the oldest university in the world,” she informed Travis, “founded in 1088.”

“Beats UMass by about eight hundred years.”

“It’s also famous for its arched walkways,” she read. “They run for more than thirty-eight kilometers, connecting the largest historical city center in Italy. The porticoes are actually included on the UNESCO World Heritage list of significant historical, cultural or geographical landmarks.”

“Who knew?” Travis commented with a grin.

Certainly not Kate. Fascinated, she Googled away while he ordered an omelet for himself, a fresh fruit cup and a toasted bagel for her.

The order stilled her flying fingers. He knew her so well, she thought with a gulp. Her breakfast routine. Her love affair with classical music, which he’d struggled so valiantly—and unsuccessfully—to share. He also sympathized with her ferocious battle to keep the ten pounds she’d gained since their first meeting from inching up to fifteen, twenty. Not that he’d minded the extra padding. That time in Vegas, when he’d peeled off her bra and panties and slicked his tongue over...

Whoa! This wasn’t the time or the place to think about where his tongue had gone. Heart hammering, Kate went back to working the phone’s tiny keyboard.

“Aha!”

“Aha?” Travis echoed, shooting up a brow. “Does that carry the same connotation as ‘gadzooks’?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t read comic books, like some people do.”

“More than some. Google ‘manga’ and see how far back that cultural tradition goes.”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

He surrendered gracefully. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Bologna is home to Cassa di Molino, one of Italy’s largest banks. It was organized back in the 1800s by a commission of wealthy patrons to manage the city’s poorhouses. The commission also encouraged better-off citizens to save by offering them a safe place to deposit funds they could draw on in emergencies or old age.”

Her fiscal interests fully engaged, Kate skimmed the article describing the minimum deposit—not less than six scudi—and loans tailored to craftsmen and merchants to stimulate the local economy.

“Back then the bank allocated all profits to helping young entrepreneurs, depositors who fell on hard times and women with no dowries.”

“I’m guessing it’s not as philanthropic these days.”

Ignoring the sardonic comment, she worked her thumbs. “And I think... Yes! Here he is, Antonio Gallo. The bank’s new president.”

She angled the phone to display a photo of a distinguished gentleman with a genial smile and a full head of silver hair.

“I met him at a conference last year. He mentioned then that he was being considered for a senior position. I didn’t remember where until just now, when you mentioned Bologna.”

“Sounds like a useful contact.”

“Very useful.”

“Since we’re heading in that direction anyway, why don’t you call and see if he’s available for a courtesy call?”

She hesitated for only a second or two. She hadn’t factored any business calls into her vacation schedule. Then again, neither had she planned a visit to Bologna. As Travis indicated, however, this was too good an opportunity to let slip.

So much for their carefully reconstructed agenda, she thought, as she Googled the number for the headquarters of Cassa di Molino. After speaking to several underlings, she reached Signore Gallo’s executive assistant, who advised that his boss’s schedule was quite full but a short visit at 11:20 a.m. might be possible if he juggled some other appointments. Could he call Signorina Westbrook back to confirm? And in the interim, perhaps she might email a short bio?

“Certainly.”

She gave him her contact information, then zinged off a copy of the bio she kept stored in her iCloud documents file.

“We’re tentatively set for eleven twenty. Can we make that?”

He checked his watch. “Shouldn’t be a problem if we hit the road within the next half hour.”

“I need to change. Can you get my bagel to go?”

“Sure. Or...”

“What?”