Back Our Italian Summer
Chapters (50)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise for the novels of
  3. Titles by Jennifer Probst
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. CHAPTER ONE
  7. CHAPTER TWO
  8. CHAPTER THREE
  9. CHAPTER FOUR
  10. CHAPTER FIVE
  11. CHAPTER SIX
  12. CHAPTER SEVEN
  13. CHAPTER EIGHT
  14. CHAPTER NINE
  15. CHAPTER TEN
  16. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  17. CHAPTER TWELVE
  18. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  19. CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  20. CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  21. CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  22. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  23. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  24. CHAPTER NINETEEN
  25. CHAPTER TWENTY
  26. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  27. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  28. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  29. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  30. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  31. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  32. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
  35. CHAPTER THIRTY
  36. CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
  37. CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
  38. CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
  39. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
  40. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
  41. CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
  42. NOTE TO READER
  43. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  44. Readers Guide
  45. QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
  46. Excerpt from THE SECRET LOVE LETTERS OF OLIVIA MORETTI
  47. Chapter One
  48. Chapter Two
  49. About the Author
  50. 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.”