Page 84 of Sinful Promises

Still buzzing on a mission-driven high when the plane landed, I raced from the plane to the nearest taxi. “Hello. Can you take me to Manarola?”

“Manarola?” His face scrunched up with apparent confusion.

“It’s one of the towns on the Cinque Terre.”

“Cinque Terre? That will take long time.”

No shit, Sherlock. “Yes. I know. Can you take me?”

“It cost lots of money.”

Faaark. “Look, can you take me, or shall I ask the next taxi?”

“Sì. Sì. I take you.” He wobbled his head and waved his hands. “But you pay me two hundred euro now.” He smiled a crooked smile. “As part payment.”

Bloody hell. When did everyone become so untrustworthy? I shoved four fifty-euro-notes into his hand, dumped my suitcase into his trunk, and climbed into the back seat.

Six sets of traffic lights later and I was living in hell. We were stuck in gridlock and my driver was singing fucking opera. Either that or he had something stuck in his throat.

Kill me now.

Every five minutes, I checked my watch. It didn’t help.

It didn’t help that we seemed to be driving in circles either.

Four hours after the plane landed, I saw my first road sign for the Cinque Terre. I was equal parts elated and fucking scared.

The what-ifs were attacking me like disturbed wasps.

What if I can’t find Roman?

What if he’s taken off to travel the world like he wanted to?

And the clincher. What if I do find him and he’s back with Caterina?

Faaarrk! Or even worse . . . what if he’s not with Caterina, but he’s horrified to see me?

The driver slowed the car and pulled to a complete stop at a boom gate over the road. A welcome sign introduced the town of Riomaggiore. “We here.” The driver turned to look at me with a toothy grin.

“But this isn’t Manarola?”

“No cars allowed. See?” He pointed at a sign next to the boom gate.

“No cars?”

“Sì. No cars.”

Damn it. The Universe was against me.

I paid him a further one hundred and twenty euro, climbed out, and hefted my suitcase from his trunk. He drove away. What the hell do I do now? I turned toward the boom gate and the view beyond that took my breath away. In the distance, the Mediterranean Sea was a truly magnificent indigo blue that stretched right to the horizon. The sun was hidden by the hills, but was coloring the distant clouds a gorgeous mix of orange and pomegranate. Its rays illuminated the buildings lining the left-hand side of the street, highlighting their pastel colors.

Movement out the corner of my eye caught my attention. There was a glass booth near the boom gate.

I dragged my suitcase over. “Hi. I’m trying to get to Manarola.”

He looked at his watch and shook his head. “Sorry. Last train was at four fifteen. You missed it.”

Damn. “Okay. How else can I get there?”

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