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She lifts a brow. “You’ve met someone already?”
“Yeah,” I say, and leave it at that.
“I have a boyfriend.” Her tone is wistful. “He’s hoping to visit toward the end of my internship…”
Melody seems nice, except I don’t want to share info about my love life… or lack of one. Maybe when I get to know her better. I change the subject to talk about what would be the best sights to see in Venice and the other new interns join in. We all decide to go to St. Mark’s square when our induction is over.
We spend the afternoon learning the ropes about ticket sales and how to work with the groups of schoolkids who visit the Guberman. I’m tired from jetlag but keep myself going with several cups of coffee.
Normal quitting time is six pm, but we are let off at five as we haven’t officially started yet. We’re encouraged to settle in over the weekend and arrive by nine thirty a.m. on Monday morning. The gallery is closed every Tuesday, which will be our one day off per week.
Outside, the late afternoon air is cold, but I soon warm up during the half hour walk to Saint Mark’s. After crossing the Grand Canal via the Accademia Bridge, we meander through a labyrinth of small calli leading to the heart of the city, passing designer stores selling everything anyone with a shitload of money could wish for.
I’ve seen pictures of the square before, but the reality makes me suck in a sharp breath it’s so freaking beautiful. I stare at the golden columns and domes of the Basilica, and my skin tingles. “Wow,” I gasp.
A line of tourists stand waiting to enter the church, but we decide not to join them. We’ll be in Venice long enough to take in the sights at our leisure. Instead, we stroll past the Doge’s Palace toward the seafront.
I press my palms to my cheeks and my breath stalls.
The setting sun has painted the sky vermillion behind a massive church tower on the island opposite.
Gondolas ride the waves in front of me.
I hug myself. “It’s like a movie set. Totally awesome,” I say to no one in particular.
We sit on some wooden benches in a small park and watch the sun go down. It’s getting late, and I check the time on my phone. I need to go back to my apartment and get ready for my date tonight.
Not a date, silly.
Melody and the others tell me they’re going to hang out a little longer, and they give the impression they’re a tad disappointed when I say I’ve got to run.
I hope they don’t think I’m being unfriendly, but I really want to see Marco again.
I’m intrigued about why he wants me to meet Alessio…
There’s another massive line of tourists, this time at the self-serving ticket machine for the water bus. The manned stall has fewer people lined up and I pay seven Euros fifty, which is the going rate, validating my ticket just in time to hop onto a vaporetto heading for Zattere. The engines churn and we head toward the Giudecca Canal.
In my peripheral I catch an official looking dude checking tickets by scanning them against a hand-held device. He comes up to where I’m sitting at the front of the boat, and, without preamble, I hand over my ticket.
I stare at him while he scans it.
The dude must have suffered terrible acne… he has a pockmarked face.
An unexpected frown creases his brow.
‘Your ticket is not valid, signorina,” he barks. “You must pay a fine of sixty Euros.”
Shit!
My heart freaking sinks, but I square my shoulders and look him in the eye. “How can my ticket not be valid?” My voice rises. “I bought it at the official stall and validated it!”
He shakes his head. “It is fake. You must pay the fine.”
“This is not my fault,” I grit out, heat burning my cheeks. “I bought the ticket in good faith.”
“It is a fake ticket, signorina,” he repeats slowly. “You must pay the fine.” He holds out a hand-held credit card machine. “Cash or card?”
Think clearly, Sefi. Don’t hand over your card to this dude; he might be involved in the scam.
“I want to speak to the Police,” I mutter.
“You will need to stay on the vaporetto for our return trip and go to the police station at San Marco. You can make a statement there, but you must still pay the fine.”
“Okay. Okay.” My nostrils flare. “I’ll pay it, but I’m not happy.”
With trembling fingers, more from anger than anything else, I reach for the cash in my purse. People are staring at me like I’ve committed a crime.
Well, I’m gonna file a report and set the record straight.Chapter FiveAlessioI look up from my paperwork. Deputy Superintendent Koffler comes into my office. “There’s an American woman reporting another of those ticket frauds. You said you wanted to interview the victim personally the next time it happened.”
