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“The producers have it,” I said. “They have all our passports. Don’t you remember them confiscating them? Tonight when we get our plane tickets they’ll give us our passports back.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” said Alanna. “When I was the star of my own show, one of the guys got sent home for some kind of paperwork error, so you never know.”

“You were the star of your own show?” asked Jessica.

“Very funny,” said Alanna.

“I agree with Emma. I think you’ll be fine,” said Vanessa.

“Thanks. I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” said Deb as we turned into our driveway.

Sure enough, passports materialized for all of us, along with airline tickets and Venice travel guides. The best part of Bellamy’s Redemption was about to begin!

Chapter 21

“Hi there, are you Albergo?” asked Deb.

“Excus-a me?” asked the adorable little man who seemed to be running the show at our hotel.

“Are you Albergo Vincenzo?”

“This is Albergo Vincenzo,” he said, pointing to the marble floor.

“I really don’t get what you mean, but could you get us some more peanuts when you get a chance? All this bubbly water is making me want something salty.”

“It’s making me thirsty,” said Alanna, who was jetlagged bordering on hysterical. She had been drinking bubbly water, champagne, and some kind of orange liquor since 5:00 a.m.

“Me too, y’all,” said Vanessa, holding up an empty crystal tumbler.

“It’s so horrid to be trapped here like this, just watching the world go by, not able to get out there,” said Alanna. “And to be so sleep-deprived is criminal. My God, I just can’t handle this.”

We were all stretched out on antique wicker lounge chairs, up on a rooftop terrace, watching gondolas go by on the Grand Canal. Klassie and Tamika were on a two-on-one date, and only one of them was coming back.

“Do you think it’s appropriate for us to be wearing bikinis?” asked Deb. “Everyone else is wearing, you know, clothes.” She waved her empty peanut bowl at the few other tourists nearby. Far to our left were two older Germans wearing slacks and button-down shirts. To our right was a middle-aged woman reading a novel. She had on jeans and a fleece pull-over. She was distancing herself from us since she was Canadian and fancied herself to be superior to us.

“Oh, who cares?” said Jessica. “I’m going to show off all the skin I can until I’m old and saggy.” The middle-aged woman shook her head but didn’t look up from her book.

“There shouldn’t even be other people around,” said Alanna. “I was told we would have a closed set at all times.”

“Is it lunchtime yet?” Deb asked Albergo, when he reappeared with a delightful brass cart holding peanuts, bubbly water, flat water, and a couple of bottles of champagne.

“Our restaurant begins serving in one hour,” said Albergo.

“I guess I can make it a little longer,” said Deb, scooping up a handful of peanuts. “I can’t believe how fat this show is making me.”

“You still look fine,” said Vanessa.

“Nuh-uh. I’m probably a size eight now.”

“Gross,” said Alanna. “You definitely are not.”

“Who do you think is coming back? Tamika or Klassie?” I asked.

“I think both will go home soon. The order doesn’t matter,” said Jessica.

“Tamika is boring, and Klassie is too wild. Like, the roller skates. Is that for real, or is it just a gimmick?” asked Vanessa.

“I think that’s her being her,” I said.

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