Page 44 of The Fall Affair

He pulled back and winked. “Anytime, city girl. Sweet dreams.”

My eyes dropped down for a last look at his torso before he left. Sweet dreams? I doubted it. Something told me that tonight I’d be dreaming more along the lines of hot and sweaty.

Chapter 13

Allegra

“CIAO. PARLI INGLESE?”

The woman shook her head. “No.”

Shoot. The following day, I’d ridden the Vespa to the antique shop my grandmother had mentioned in her last letter. Since she’d told me to come here if I needed any help, I’d assumed the owner would speak English. “Umm…” I looked around at the antique store before gesturing to it. “I own a store like this.”

The woman stared at me.

“Antiques,” I said then pointed to my chest. “Me.”

Zero reaction. I was about to give up when I thought maybe explaining who I was might help. “Mia nonna è Sophia Bianchi.”

The woman’s eyes lit up. She walked around the counter and hugged me. “You must be Allegra!”

I thought she didn’t speak English… “Yes.” I smiled. “I’m Allegra.”

“Ah, so nice to meet-a you!”

“You speak some English?”

“I speak-a plenty. I just don’t wanna all da American tourists talk-a to me, eh?”

I laughed. Yep. This was definitely my grandmother’s friend. She would’ve done that, too. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“’Ow are you, my dear?”

“I’m doing okay—as well as can be expected without my grandmother here anymore.”

Francesca’s eyes went soft. “Every day, it’s-a hard…without my Sophia.”

“She told me how close you two had become over the last five years.”

“We’re like-a sisters,” she said, shaking her head with a frown. “The good kind. Not like-a that thief, Anna.”

I smiled. “My grandmother told me to come to you if I needed help with her antique store. I’ve opened it the last few days, but people don’t come in like they used to. I haven’t been to Montepulciano in a long time, but the last time I visited, there was a pretty steady stream of customers throughout the day. At least one or two an hour.”

As if to prove my point, the bells jingled on the door at the front of Il Baule di Nonna, and a shopper walked into Francesca’s store.

“I’m hoping to sell some of the shop’s inventory while I’m here,” I explained. “Is there anything I can do to let people know the store is open again?”

She nodded. “Yes, yes. Three tings.” She held up one finger. “Uno, da visitor’s guide. There’s-a online directory—wineries, restaurants, antique shops, all of it. But dey take down da listing for Sophia’s shop few months ago. I talk to dem. I make dem put it back.”

“Oh, that would be great. Thank you.”

She smiled. “Due, da church. We put-a little sign on da bulletin board. Maybe you make a sale, eh? Get people to come in. Twenty percent off, someting like dis.”

“I’d definitely do that.”

“I take care of dat for you, too.”

“Thank you.”