Just then, without warning, another train suddenly passed in the opposite direction with a tremendous whoosh that so startled Carter, he jumped back from the window. Catching his breath a moment, he leaned back just in time to see the tail end of the other train as it hurtled away down the adjacent set of tracks. It was then that he realized his train tickets were no longer in his hand. Certain that they must have been blown out the window, he panicked for an instant, until he looked down at his feet and found them lying on the floor. He snatched them up and gave a sigh of relief just as the compartment door opened and the conductor entered with a bright “Buon giorno!”

In Bologna, after a layover of almost an hour, Carter switched trains, and the second leg of his journey commenced, this time turning southeast along the Adriatic coast of Abruzzo to the city of Pescara. He was not so fortunate this time around to have the entire compartment to himself. Indeed, the three seats facing him and the seat by the door on his side were taken by an assortment of Italian gentlemen, all of them dressed in business attire. Only the middle seat next to him remained unoccupied. At seeing the perfectly tailored suits and stylish shoes of his fellow passengers, Carter at first felt a bit self-conscious of his own decidedly casual attire. Had one of the others not shot him a dismissive, condescending look over the top of his newspaper, he might have remained so. Instead, emboldened, he sat up straight and proud, with legs crossed to better show off his not-so-stylish sneakers.

The train began to move from the station, and it appeared that the compartment would remain with a complement of five passengers. Two of the four businessmen, including the snobbish one, hid behind their newspapers. The other two immediately pulled out their cell phones and were soon chattering away in self-important voices. As the train was gathering speed, Carter himself was settling back to stare out the window when the compartment door suddenly slid open. He looked up expecting to see a conductor, but instead a beautiful young woman with short brown hair, lovely dark eyes, and shapely slender legs stepped inside. Fashionably dressed in a pink blouse opened at the top and a skirt that stopped a very distracting inch or so above her knees, she carried a sizable briefcase in one hand and an expensive-looking purse over her shoulder.

No sooner had she appeared at the door when both cell phone conversations immediately ceased and the pages of the newspapers were strategically lowered ever so slightly. Four more pairs of eyes fixed themselves on the young woman. It was at Carter, however, whom she smiled and gestured to the seat next to him.

“Occupato?” she asked sweetly, inquiring if the seat were already taken.

Carter shook his head.

“No, signorina,” he told her.