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.”“ But it's my birthday,” she said.“It is? No, it isn't.That's what you always say.Your birthday is in April.”“What kind of a grandson doesn't call his grandmother to wish her happy birthday?” she said as if he hadn't spoken.“Happy birthday,” he said.“Antonio Ponti gave his grandmother a new flat screen TV for her birthday with a remote control.”“Is that what you want?”“I want my grandson to call me once in a while.Now that you're back in town I want you to come for dinner when I make your favorite dish.Is that asking too much?”“No, Nonna.I'll come.But I can't come tonight.”“You have a date, yes? You can bring her to meet me.”“You wouldn't like her.”“How do you know? Did you hear Antonio is getting married next year to Bianca Camerata.”“In bocca al lupo,” he muttered.Into the mouth of the wolf.“What?”“I wish him the best.”“Better hurry or all the good women will be taken,” she said.“You're not getting any younger.”He leaned against the brick wall of the patio and closed his eyes.She didn't need to remind him he was getting too old to play games.To chase thieves or women.After he caught Giovanni, he'd retire from this kind of work and take a desk job with the agency.“I'm not getting married,” he said.“It's too late.I'm too old.And all the good women are taken.”“Non fa niente,” she said, dismissing this excuse.“I'll find you someone and you can settle down here in town where you belong.Since when is forty too old for a man? Think about me, do I die before I become a great-grandmother?”Neither mentioned his sister Isabella and the reason she wouldn't be able to give Nonna the much-wished-for great-grandchildren.“I'll think about it,” he said wearily.“Don't think,” she said.“Do.”He hung up with a wry half smile.If she knew he was after Giovanni, she would have understood and wished him Godspeed.But he wasn't going to tell her or anyone until it was over.Until the bastard was behind bars and the diamond was back where it belonged.Anne Marie woke up from her nap groggy and confused.Her inner clock said it was morning but the sun was setting here on the Amalfi Coast, casting a golden glow over the cliffs and turning the sea to the color of lapis lazuli.She splashed cold water on her face and got dressed in the same outfit she'd worn to meet Giovanni.She wasn't going to see anyone she knew tonight.When she went downstairs to ask the night desk clerk if she'd had any messages, he said no.Of course not.She had her message from Giovanni; she had her instructions.Then she consulted her phrase book and took a deep breath.“Conosce un buon ristorante?” she asked even though the man probably spoke perfect English.How was she going to get better if she didn’t practice She wished she could add, “near here,” in Italian but she couldn’t.She didn’t want to take any more taxis, trains or buses until she had to.She wanted to walk.She’d had enough diesel fumes and cliff-hangers on mountain roads.“There is the Vista dei Mare, Signorina,” he said with an amused look.“Very good, very nice, very popular, very close.I will make a reservation.For eight.”She looked at her watch.It was only six.Of course Italians didn't eat until eight.“Yes.All right.Thank you.”He nodded and picked up the phone.She understood a few words like ristorante, Signorina.Why hadn't she studied more, studied harder? Because she never really thought she'd get here.Never thought she'd ever get divorced, and she knew Dan would never bring her here.Never thought she'd have the nerve to come by herself.But she had.She was here.The clerk caught her smiling to herself and gave her an odd look.As her smile faded, he brought out a map.“You are here,” he said, putting one tapered finger on the map.“Restaurant is here.”It wasn't far.Only about a half an inch away.She folded the map and put it in her shoulder bag, thanked him and started for the front door.“Signorina, where are you going?” he called.She turned.“Out.just to look around,” she said.“Why, is it dangerous?” It looked like a nice neighborhood, filled with villas on quiet streets.She'd taken all the precautions recommended by the guide books, like wearing her money belt filled with traveler's checks, and her passport hung around her neck under her shirt.This was hardly the slums of Naples – still, she was a stranger here; maybe he knew something she didn’t.“No, no, of course not.I was merely inquiring.”People were certainly not shy about inquiring [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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