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“Are you going to roll the window up? Because you know I don’t make a habit of driving to public spaces with women hanging out my car.”
She shot him a look and rolled the window up. It really did her no good to oppose him now. She was on a mission. Trying to prove something. “I was enjoying the air.”
“Now which one of us is a Saint Bernard?”
“Did you just make a joke?” She looked at his stern profile and saw the corner of his lip tip upward. “You did. You made a joke. That’s incredible.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
It felt like a deeper warning of something else. But she went ahead and ignored it. Along with the shiver of sensation that went through her body.
They were silent after that. And she watched as the trees thinned, gave way to civilization. The dirt becoming loose rocks, and then cobblestone.
The town itself was not modern. And she would have been disappointed if it was. The streets were made of interlocking stones, the sidewalks the same, only in a different pattern. Tight spirals and sunbursts, some of them bleeding up the sides of the buildings that seemed somehow rooted to the earth.
The streets were narrow, the businesses packed tightly together. There were little cafés and a surprising number of appealing-looking designer shops that Violet suddenly felt eager to explore.
“This is beautiful,” she said. “If people knew... Well, if people knew, this would be a huge tourist spot.”
“It was not encouraged under the rule of my father. And in these past years businesses have rebounded. But still...”
“There is ground to gain. Understood. Pull over.”
“What?”
“Pull over.”
She saw a bright yellow bicycle leaned against a wall. And right next to it was a window planter with bright red geraniums bursting over the top of it.
All backed by that charming gray stone.
“We need to take a photo.”
He obeyed her, but was clearly skeptical about her intent.
She got out of the car quickly and raced over to the bike. Then she looked over into the courtyard of the neighboring café. People were sitting outside drinking coffee. “Excuse me? Is this your bike?” She asked the young woman sitting there working on her computer.
The woman looked at her warily and then saw Javier, standing behind her. Her eyes widened.
“It’s fine,” Violet said. “He’s harmless. I just want to take a picture with your bike.”
“Of course,” the woman said.
She still looked completely frazzled, but Violet scampered to where it was, positioning herself right next to it and putting her hand over the handlebars. “A picture,” she said. She reached into her purse and pulled her phone out, handing it to him.
“That’s what all this is about? Also. I am not harmless.”
“Yes. Very ferocious. Take my picture.”
She looked straight ahead, offering him her profile, and tousled her hair lightly before positioning her hand delicately at her hip.
“There,” he said. “Satisfied?”
“Let me verify.” She snatched the phone from his hand and looked at the photo.
It had done exactly what she wanted to do, and with some tweaking, the colors would look beautiful against the simple gray stone.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I am.”
