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But she’d lived, and it was over, and diving into some retail therapy had seemed the only answer when she’d gotten off the plane with Hudson Bly.
Herbabysitter.
Sheesh.
“It’s just up here, a few blocks down, then take a right.” She directed her Uber driver in Italian as he drove north to Lake Como.
The sun hung low over the mountains rising across the lake, the fiery descent glowing upon the water. A glorious place to live.
Even if it might be a little lonely.
But next time she thought about spicing up her life, it wouldn’t be by becoming some idiot for a fake-CIA.
How desperate could she be? She just wanted to keel over with the horror of it all.
“What was that, honey?”
“Sorry, Mom, I’m listening. I just had to direct the driver.” She wore an ear bud, held on to her smartphone, and listened to her mother talk about the tasting of their recently uncorked 2019 La Crescent Gold.
“Your dad is so excited about this varietal. It has notes of stone fruit and even pineapple, which is crazy. He’s sent bottles away to some reviewers…Iris, are you okay? You sound…quiet.”
She sighed and imagined her mother, Jenny, her blonde hair pulled back in a headband, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, sitting in their family room back at their century-old farmhouse in Minnesota. Plush leather furniture, a stone hearth—probably with a fire going—the fields full of empty Marquette and Frontenac cold-weather grape vines.
“I’m fine, Mom. I spent the last three days shopping in Milan.”
“Oh, my, you sound like it’s just another day at the mall. Milan. Was it amazing?”
Amazing. And expensive. She had done some serious damage to her savings. But frankly, she’d just had to disappear, and she was a little tired of her zebra wardrobe.
“Yes. I shopped at the Via Monte Napoleone.” Alone. “And had coffee at Corso Vittorio Emanuele II.” Alone. “Had king crab at Langosteria and spaghettoni alla tamarro at Dongiò.”
All, of course, alone.
“No pizza?”
Iris laughed. “Right. I did have an artichoke and olive pizza in my hotel room.” Watching the Vienna Vikings and Milano exhibition match. And yelling at a couple missed penalties.
“Sounds exotic,” her mother said. “I made some stew for Pippa and Princess Imani.”
“Anything you put with the wordprincessmakes your life infinitely more exciting than mine.”
Her mother laughed. Iris sighed.
“What is it, honey?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I should have stuck it out. You know, in the NCAA. Then maybe tried to ref for the NFL.”
“Iris. You made a wise choice at the time. But you know, you can come home anytime.”
“Yeah. I know. I just…”
“You need a boyfriend.”
Iris laughed. “Mom. The last thing I need is a boyfriend.”
Silence on the other end of the line.
“What?”
