Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Praise for the novels of
- Titles by Jennifer Probst
- Dedication
- Epigraphs
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- NOTE TO READER
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Readers Guide
- QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
- Excerpt from THE SECRET LOVE LETTERS OF OLIVIA MORETTI
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- About the Author
- What’s next onyour reading list?
The two women began to march forward, and I realized they were carrying two large sticks in their hands. Holy crap, what was going on? Even in New York City the homeless left you mostly alone. Were they looking for money?
“Let’s go, guys. I’m sure they’ll back off.”
We rose from the bench and began easing away, but the ladies let out an angry tirade of Italian. As they moved closer, I noticed their dirty clothing, mismatched shoes, and bedraggled hair. But it was their faces that scared the hell out of me. They were pinched in rage.
“Uh, scusi, mi dispiace, we go. We go,” I muttered. Allegra called out a phrase in Italian I didn’t recognize, and I grabbed her hand and Mom’s, ready to flee. “We go.”
They attacked.
Holding the sticks up high, they raced the next couple of feet, as if we’d done something terrible and they were bent on revenge. I gave a shriek and held tight to Mom’s and Allegra’s hands, and we ran out of the square as fast we could, our feet pounding on the pavement, heading toward the road we’d passed beforehand.
After a full block, I realized they hadn’t followed, and we slowed down to catch our breath. “Are you okay? Mom?”
“I’m fine. What did we do? Oh my goodness, they were mad! Those were the first not-nice people we’ve met here.”
“Do you think they would have hit us?” Allegra asked in shock.
“No, but I’m guessing the bench was their property and we weren’t supposed to sit there,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Allegra was ahead of me, her fingers flying over her phone. “Screw this, we’re getting an Uber, Mom.”
“Good idea.”
In a matter of ten minutes, we’d made our way to the curb of some street and saw the magic minicar pull up. We squeezed in and I worshipped the age of technology as the driver drove us directly back to our hotel without worry of translation of language or transfer of cash. It was a beautiful thing.
“We’re not cursed or something, are we?” Allegra asked. “You fell down the steps, and now we get attacked.”
“There’s no such thing as a curse. This is what happens when you get lost. Anyway, you wanted an adventure. Guess we got it.”