Good question.
Elliot was arriving in Rome soon. Before I left New York, he’d emailed me about how I could help his team investigate an art smuggling ring. I’d wanted to be in the FBI since I was twelve. Had been for a short time, before I ran away from it. I could just stop in Rome, abandon the next leg to Naples, and not make a fool of myself falling at Antonio’s feet.
But less than a week after I’d told Antonio I never wanted to see him again, the harsh truth had slammed into me. I wantedhimmore than anything.
“Vacation in Naples,” I said. I was tired of running. Of the pain in my fingertips every time the possibility of being hurt came up. Of the gnawing in my stomach at the thought of Antonio being with anyone else.
To be with him, I’d have to stay in Brenton. To rejoin the FBI, I’d have to leave it.
Was what I had with Antonio enough to give up my dream? Or was he just another Vincenzo? Nothing more than pretty words and promises?
I was going to be sick.
“Will you be there long?” she asked.
Ten days would get me back home in time with a little buffer before my sister’s next chemo. “Week and a half. You?”
“I’m headed to Rome for work.”
“What do you do?”
“Tech security. Pretty boring stuff.”
“No way,” I chuckled. “I’ve got the market cornered on that. I’m an insurance adjuster.”
She feigned a grimace and held out a hand. “Scarlett.”
I shook her hand. “Sam. Good to meet you.”
“You had a stranglehold on that piece of paper when we got on the flight.” She gestured to Antonio’s letter. “I’m guessing you’re not just on vacation?”
“Perceptive.” I loosened my grip but didn’t tuck it away.
“Was it a fight with a man?”
Normally, my response would be to tell her to get lost. It was none of her business. But I was so tired. “Pretty much.”
“Flying away from him or to him?” Scarlett flagged down a flight attendant and made a drinking gesture.
“Tech securityandamateur psychiatrist?”
“Precisely.” She smiled at the attendant who handed her a bottle of water. “Security’s about trust, Sam. So are relationships.”
I gave a long sigh. Antonio had broken my trust. No different from Vincenzo. Except after I left Amelia all those years ago, Vin hadn’t bothered calling to explain, apologize, or make things better. We were just done.
Antonio? He’d called, texted, emailed so many times. His sister even told me how sorry he was. My family was happy he was gone, but I really wasn’t. “To him.”
“And the letter’s…” She took a sip from her water. “An apology he sent you?”
I stared at the letter. This woman was reading me too easily.
“And you’re pretty sure you want to forgive him, but something’s holding you back.” She gestured to my left hand. “I’m guessing whatever’s on that phone?”
My gaze flicked from one to the other. Antonio versus the FBI. Boyfriend versus career. The possibility of a future and a family versus my childhood dream. I was a brave woman. I could stand up to my fears. “I need a nap.”
“I’ve got a feeling that things are going to work out for you. No man who writes actual letters could resist a woman who flies across the Atlantic to make up with him.”
“I hope so.” I chuckled and slipped my phone back into the inside pocket of my jacket. Of course my choice was Antonio. Over the years, I’d worked on several art cases with Elliot. Most were insurance-based, plus a few investigations and provenance proofs.