Their warmth and openness made her take to them immediately. Kim watched them, wishing her parents had the same easiness about them. She observed how loving and tender they were toward one another and how keen they were to include her.

They explored more of the cloister for a while and then Antonio and Emilia insisted Kim join them for lunch.

While the restaurant was amazing and the food the finest quality, the company was the primary reason for her enjoyment.

The couple were each wonderful raconteurs. They talked and laughed and shared stories of their travels all throughout their marriage. Antonio was indeed a native, from Milan where they both lived and worked.

He did something in business while Emilia—a former model—now worked in magazine publishing.

The waiter delivered their main course and the juxtaposition of the colors of her Caprese salad against the backdrop of the ocean was such that Kim couldn’t resist whipping out her phone.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized to the couple again as she snapped a quick shot, “I’m going to have to be a goddamn tourist again, but my followers will totally lap this up.”

“Followers?” Antonio inquired.

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Kim went on to tell them all about The Sweet Life social media account and how she was documenting her trip and sharing it all online.

Though it had since ceased to be so, she neglected to mention that the whole thing had begun as a secretive way to communicate with her friend and hide her whereabouts from her folks.

While chatting, she cropped, filtered, and uploaded the photo, deciding that she’d go back and caption it later. For now, actually eating the damn food was more important.

“What an intriguing idea. So like a photographic travel diary?” Emilia queried and Kim nodded, handing her the phone so she could see the picture she’d just uploaded. “My goodness, you are a talented photographer, these are wonderful—Antonio, look.” She showed her husband, who smiled politely but distractedly. He, too, wanted to get on with eating lunch, instead of looking at it in photos.

Kim had to smile but inwardly she was pleased. “No, it’s filters that make the photos look that good, honestly. I’m not that great at all.”

She tucked into her lunch, but Emilia was still scrolling through her phone. “Seriously, Kim, these are wonderful, especially combined with your beautiful words. Really brings the imagery to life. Are you sure you haven’t worked in journalism or even publishing? Perhaps you should.”

“Hmm, not so sure about that,” Kim laughed and swallowed a mouthful of food. “My parents would definitely kill me for letting my business degree go to waste.”