Page 51 of Marry Me in Rome

“It’s humiliating.” Alexis grimaced.

“We’ll have to guess,” Kennedy said. “You were taking a romantic ride in a gondola and insulted the gondolier. Or you tried to jump into someone’s boat as they rode by, Bond-style, but missed entirely.”

An idea struck me. “Wait, I know. You caught fire while dancing at a club and they had to hose you down.”

Alexis rolled her eyes as we chuckled. “Kennedy is closer. Infinitely closer. You know I look like a dizzy elephant when I dance.”

“We’d better hit up a club at some point, then, because I have to see this.” Matteo chuckled.

“I’m going with the gondola story then,” Kennedy said. “You were riding with a handsome Italian man but the gondolier wanted you for himself. He made the mistake of complimenting you and you didn’t reciprocate, so he ‘accidentally’ tipped the boat over on you both?”

“Oh my gosh,” Alexis said with a groan. “You aren’t going to stop, are you?”

“Not until you tell us the story.”

“Fine. I was out for a late run and forgot that some of these sidewalks end abruptly in canals. All right?”

We started to laugh as Alexis frowned.

“You ran through the streets of Venice alone at night?” Vivi repeated. “Some of these streets can get pitch-black. You aren’t afraid of anything, are you?”

“Well, now I am. That water is nasty.” Alexis shuddered.

Vivi threw back her head and released a giggle of her own, a happy, high-pitched sound. The two had already become quick friends in the hours we’d spent here. I would never have put them together as soul sisters, an athlete and a helicopter pilot, but it sparked the beginning of another idea. After our sisters trip, I’d ask Alexis if she wanted to return with me to Rome for a little extra sister time. Something told me Alexis could use more friends in her life right now.

Someone’s phone buzzed. Alexis’s hand shot into her pocket and retrieved her phone. She rarely got calls or texts, so I watched with interest as she read the screen . . . and went positively pale. She actually stopped in her tracks.

“Everything okay?” I asked her as the rest of us slowed.

“Um.” She cancelled the call and shoved the phone back into her pocket. “Totally fine.”

“Who was that?”

“Somebody who should never have gotten my number in the first place.”

I placed my hand on her shoulders. “Dad can be a jerk sometimes. Don’t let him get to you.” Weird that he’d contact Alexis so soon after our little pizza date yesterday, especially since he had to know I would tell the others.

Alexis gave me a funny look. “Yeah. Dad. That’s definitely true.”

Odd. I stared at my sister, who looked almost guilty. Dad calling would make her annoyed and angry. So who was on that call?

Alexis barreled forward as if making it clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

Okay. I’d ask her about the mysterious caller later.

Matteo gave me a side hug. “Everything okay?”

“I hope so. Where are we going again? When are we going to see another bridge?” I asked. Venice had beautiful and historic bridges, but 400 bridges was an impressive number. I wanted to see at least fifty of them today. From the top this time, preferably, and not while swimming for my life.

He pretended to look surprised. “The Bridge of Fists wasn’t enough for you?”

I gave him a sideways look. A bridge used for fighting among the Venetian clans hundreds of years ago, complete with foot markings to indicate where to start, was one of my favorite weird features here in this city. Losers of those fights ended up in the canal. Surrounded by so much history and culture,of courseMatteo had felt the need to show us that.

“Maybe something with a little less of a violent history?” I asked.

“If you want less violence in the past, you’re in the wrong city. But I do have one last bridge to show you, and there’s only one way to see it.” He turned to the others. “Mind if I steal Jillie away for about an hour?”

“Please do. All the kissing is nauseating,” Kennedy moaned, then winked.

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