The Promise Read Free Page A

it?” He squeezed her gently.
    â€œIt’s so much better than the pictures. I even loved the drive through town from the airport.”
    â€œI know. All those narrow roads,” he said. “The way the cab whipped through traffic felt like a scene from a James Bond movie.”
    She laughed. It kind of did. “The cars are all so little and boxy compared to the US.”
    Jim came around beside her and put his hands on the cast-iron rail. “I’ve heard they’re like that throughout most of Europe. And so many scooters.”
    â€œHundreds of them,” she said, “darting in and out. I’m surprised no one collided. I’m so glad you’re not driving.” The tour Jim had signed them with used a luxurious air-conditioned bus with large picture windows. They were scheduled to meet with everyone tomorrow morning in the lobby at 9:00 a.m.
    â€œI don’t know,” he said. “It’s not like England. They drive on the same side of the road as we do, and the steering wheel’s on the same side of the car. It wouldn’t take any getting used to. And there’s something else I found out. Something you’d be very interested in too.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIt was something Dr. Franklin said. You know, the guy who bought that office space from us. He and his wife have been to Italy a dozen times.”
    â€œWhat did he say?”
    â€œYou can drive a hundred miles an hour on the highway.”
    â€œNo way.”
    â€œYes. He said people do it all the time, and no one gets a ticket. You just have to make sure you stay in the far left lane.”
    â€œI can’t imagine these little boxy cars even going over fifty.”
    â€œNot these little things here in town. I’m talking about a real car, something like a Beemer or a Mercedes.” He gave her a mischievous grin. “How would you like to drive a hundred miles an hour in something like that?”
    â€œDon’t tease me.” Marilyn absolutely loved driving fast. And she loved fast cars. It was a silly thing, and she knew it. But she’d been that way since she was a teenager. Of course, as a wife and mother she had to suppress most of these urges, but from timeto time she still felt them. The odd thing was, Jim was the one bringing all this up. The old Jim used to hate that about her. He would scold her driving habits and her occasional “lead foot.”
    â€œI’m not teasing you.” He leaned his face close to hers, as though on the verge of giving her a kiss. “I’m dead serious. How would you like to drive a hundred miles an hour in a high-performance European car on the Italian Autostrada?”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally.”
    â€œBut how? We’re riding on a tour bus the entire trip.”
    â€œNot the entire trip,” he said. “When the doc told me about this, it gave me an idea. In seven days, the tour through Italy winds up back here in Rome. We’re going to stay one more day. I’ve already booked the hotel for another night. We’ll rent a car and drive to Florence. He also told me about a few out-of-the-way places between here and there we just have to see. Some nice little medieval towns. We’ll see them along the way, eat dinner in Florence, then you can drive all the way back to Rome on the Autostrada, driving as fast as you want.”
    Marilyn didn’t wait for Jim to kiss her. She inched forward and kissed him. That kiss led to another, then another.
    â€œIf we don’t stop,” he said, “we’ll miss our dinner reservation.” He gently pulled back. “Why don’t you finish getting ready? You brought that red dress, right?”
    â€œI did,” she said, still holding him close.
    â€œWell, you put that on and my favorite perfume, and I promise . . . this first night on our second honeymoon will make you forget all about our wedding night.”
    He said