Midnight in Venice Read Free

find?” he asked.
    â€œHere’s your bomb,” the expert said, holding up a small box with bits of bright blue foil wrapping paper still stuck to the sides. “But read this first,” he said in English, handing Olivia a Christmas card. “It’s a nice note from your mama.”
    Rossi intercepted the card before Olivia could take it. He read it aloud.

    Dear Olivia,
    Best of luck with your new job in Venice. No one deserves this more than you. I know this is a silly gift. But I came across it the other day, and thought of you. You gave this to your dad at Christmas when you were ten. I don’t know who thought it was funnier, you or Dad. I’ll never forget the two of you laughing together, tears running down your cheeks. If ever you get homesick, I hope this cheers you up.
    Merry Christmas!
    Love, Mom
    He looked a little sheepish as he passed the card to Olivia. Then, while everyone watched, he opened the box and pulled out a set of plastic wind-up
chattering teeth
.
As the other men hooted with laughter, Rossi wound the toy and set it down on the floor, where it scooted around in circles on little legs and feet, chattering wildly.
    â€œ
Madonna!
”
he swore. “I almost shut down an international airport over this!”
    â€œI think it’s hilarious,” said one of the cops, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “The great Alessandro Rossi is human after all!”
    â€œThe boss is going to crucify me.”
    â€œIf he ever stops laughing!” howled one of the security guards.
    The cop scooped up the teeth and placed them in Olivia’s hand. “Make sure you put these where they can’t cause any more trouble.”
    It was the last straw. Clutching the toy, she put her head on his chest and started to bawl her eyes out, harder than she had cried at her dad’s funeral.
    â€œWhat?” he asked, patting her back awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. I apologize. I’m not going to arrest you. Your mother must have wound the damn thing up before she put it in the box. Look, I’ll help you pick up your things.”
    â€œIt’s my dad,” she sobbed into his leather jacket. “He passed away last summer.”
    Now Alessandro was hugging her, and everyone was looking at them again. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “You must miss him.”
    â€œI do.” Olivia straightened and wiped her eyes on the ends of her scarf. “I’m sorry. I’m making a fool of myself.”
    â€œNot at all,” he said. Then he turned to the other cops and security guards. “Okay, enough,” he barked. “Let’s get this terminal back to normal.” Olivia didn’t know whether to interpret the other men’s stares as sympathy or amusement. Probably both.
    As they began to shuffle away, Olivia fumbled with her shoulder bag and found a Kleenex. Alessandro took it from her and wiped her eyes gently. She took it back and blew her nose.
    â€œI’ll help you pick up your things,” he repeated kindly.
    â€œNo. That’s okay,” she stammered, as he began to gather up blouses, bras, sweaters, and panties. Despite her protests, he continued to help.
    Taking a sweater from him, she muttered her thanks. What else could she say?
Nice to meet you? Thanks for not arresting me? Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder? Hope we meet again?
Because looking up into those eyes, she thought she’d very much like to meet him again.
    Just then, she felt a hand on her arm, and she turned around to see her cousin. She gave him a hug, before turning back to Alessandro. He handed back her passport. “Welcome to Venice,” he said warmly, as if he’d never suspected her of wanting to blow up the airport. He smiled at her, too, a beautiful smile, and she forgave him then—instantly, completely, and absolutely.
    â€œ
Grazie
,” was all she said.
    â€œGood God,”