1 3 7 – ZOË (14 page)

Zoë left the hotel wearing a
flirty dress the color of ripe cherries and tossed her hair up into a casual twist.  Bill and Drew followed at a discreet distance, dressed in casual clothing so as not to draw any unwanted attention. 

Lance followed
from across the street.  Drew looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with him to make sure he was still behind them.  As he continued walking down the cobblestoned streets, it was hard not to stare at Zoë.  She looked as stylish and beautiful as the Roman women who graced the sidewalks and piazzas.  The only difference was that her red hair and fair skin stood out in stark contrast against the black-haired, golden-skinned Italian women.

After covering
the short distance from the hotel to the lively Piazza Navona, Bill and Drew slowed pace to maintain distance from Zoë.  She walked past two of the three spectacular fountains and stopped at the third.  She checked the name of the establishment and then scanned the rows of tables and chairs.  Two women stood from a table and waved.  Lance looked at the bodyguards who gave him an almost imperceptible nod.  All was clear, all was safe.  Lance turned his attention back to the women.  Zoë approached their table.

***

“Zoë Adams?” said the older of the two women.  She was tall, bleached blonde and dressed in a tasteful periwinkle blue suit with a pretty Hermes scarf tied around her neck.  I guessed her to be in her mid-fifties. 

I smiled a
nd nodded.  “You must be Mrs. Rosenberg.”

“Call me Barbara. 
This is my partner, Alicia Wu,” she said, indicating the attractive young Asian woman standing beside her in a classic black Prada dress.

I shook hands with both women
. 

“It is so nice to finally meet you,” Alicia said.

“It’s nice to meet both of you as well,” I retorted.

Barbara motioned for me to sit.  Two empty es
presso cups were waiting to be cleared on the table top. 

“We flew in a couple of
hours ago and needed a little pick-me-up before dinner,” she explained, indicating the cups.  “Would you like to order something?”

“No, thank you,” I replied. 

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Rome.”  I nodded and she added, “This is Alicia’s first time here.”

I looked at Alicia.  “You’
re in for a pleasant surprise.  Rome is magical.”

“I can see that,” Alicia agreed.

“The art, the architecture, the people, the wine, the food…it’s wonderful,” I said.

Barbara gathered her purse.  “Speaking of food, are you hungry?”

I nodded.  “I am, actually.”

“S
hall we go to dinner?  I’m sure you and I have much to discuss.  Are you ready, Alicia?”

“Absolutely
,” said Alicia.

After a few minutes of discussion, we settled on
a well-known trattoria in Trastevere.  The historic Jewish neighborhood was famous for its gastronomy.  We got several looks from people as we entered through the door.  I convinced the hostess to give us a quiet table in the back where we could discuss business.  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Bill and Drew being seated at a table at the front.  I risked a glance and caught Drew’s eye.  He looked away immediately.

Since I was the only one who could speak Italian, I ordered for the three of us.  We sipped red wine and munched on
grassini
as we waited for our food to arrive.  Before long, various plates were set upon our table: lightly battered and fried artichokes, spaghetti carbonara, saltimbocca, and pasta all’amatriciana.

No one spoke for the first five minutes as we tasted a bit of everything.  As dinner progressed and the wine flowed, I
explained the benefits of the two galleries becoming sister companies on opposite coasts.  Both the Ashford and the Rosenberg galleries represented the much acclaimed sculptor, Valencia, and other sought-after artists.

“Why not work together
?  Many of our clients travel to the west coast and we would refer you as our partner,” I pointed out.

“And vice versa,” Alicia interjected. 

Barbara nodded.  “It would make sense.  I much prefer camaraderie to rivalry.”

“Nancy
Ashford is really great to work with,” I said.  “She is not only pleasant and personable, she has good business sense and a knack for choosing artwork that sells.”

Barbara regarded me with open curiosity
.  “You worked with her mother.”

“I did.  Hillary Ashford
was a lovely woman and had quite a head for business.”

I could see her doing the math in her head.  According to the laws of Nature I should be close to Barbara’s age, and I was not.  This fact was usually accompanied by a twinge of resentment on the part of the older person. 

“I met Hillary only once, shortly before she died.  She left a very good impression.”

“Well, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” I assured.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about Nancy’s proposal and I believe it could work,” Barbara said.  She then added quickly, “Of course, I will only discuss the details of this merger with Nancy.  No offense, dear.”

“None taken,” I assured
.  

Once the deal was potentiall
y sealed, the discussion was closed. 

As if on cue, Alicia changed the subject. 
“Where are you staying, Zoë?”

“By
the Spanish Steps.  How about you two?”

“Alicia and I decided to stay near the Vatican
,” Barbara replied.  “She likes to attend mass in the mornings. 

Alicia shrugged.  “There’s no better place to be if you’re
a Catholic, right?”

“Right,” I agreed.

We finished our meal and Barbara insisted on paying the bill.  The moment we vacated our table, Bill and Drew stood up, quickly paid their bill and walked outside.  Bill lit up a cigarette and pretended he didn’t notice us as we walked past him. 

“We should hail a cab,” Barbara suggested.  “Walking here was delightful, but walkin
g back on a full stomach is not so appealing.  Especially in these shoes.”

I liked Barbara, she was a practical woman.  T
here were several taxis parked in a row at a nearby taxi stand.  We went to the first one and got inside.  Bill and Drew entered the one directly behind us.  Since Barbara and Alicia were so busy talking and looking around, they didn’t notice my bodyguards.

“It’s too early to head back to the hotel,” Barbara said.  “Why don’t we walk around the Spanish Steps?  If I recall, there are some fabulous boutiques in that neighborhood.”

“It’s the fashion district, but everything is closed at this hour,” I said.

“Can we go window shopping?”  Alicia asked excitedly.

“I think that’s a good idea.  It would help burn off some of our dinner before bed,” Barbara said.

The taxi let us off at the base of the Spanish Steps in Piazza di Spagna.
  To my relief, the taxi that had been following behind us stopped farther back by the fountain.  Bill and Drew got out and remained in the distance, unseen and unheard. 

The evening was balmy and mild.  Small
clusters of students were seated on the steps listening to three young musicians perform.  Several people walked through the piazza and streets; lovers with hands entwined, couples pushing baby strollers, packs of young people giggling and eating gelato. 

I paid the taxi fare and led my newfound companions down Via Condotti.  Al
icia looked from one fashion shop to the next with an expression akin to rapture.  After about twenty minutes of strolling and stopping, she froze and pointed.  Barbara and I peered into the shop window at a pair of hot pink high heels. 

“Aren’t they divine?” Alicia asked.

They were a bit flashy, but I had to admit they were fabulous.

“Cute, but they’re too high for my taste
,” Barbara said.

I smiled. 
“I think they’d look lovely on you, Alicia.” 

“
I agree,” said Barbara.  Turning to me, she added, “The young can wear anything they want, can’t they?  Especially when they’re beautiful like she is.”

“Very true,” I said.

Barbara looked back to Alicia, who was blushing.  “You’ll have to remember the name of this store and come back when it’s open.”

Suddenly, a boy came running
towards us and stopped in front of me.  He knelt down and touched the hem of my dress, pressing it to his lips.  I heard a shout and running footsteps coming down the street.

Oh no!

Bill ran to where we stood and I heard Barbara gasp in surprise as Alicia pulled her off to the side.  He picked up the boy by the scruff of his neck as Drew ran forward and placed his body in front of mine.  To my horror, Drew’s gun was aimed at the boy’s head.  A woman screamed from across the street.  Barbara and Alicia were frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the scene in wide-eyed terror.

“No,
don’t!” I cried.  “He’s only a child!”

Drew put the gun back in the holster while Bill
frisked the boy and searched through his pockets.  He found a pack of bubble gum and a small Swiss Army knife.

The boy said in
rapid Italian, “I am sorry,
signora
…I only wanted to see for myself if you were real.  I recognized you from the HV- you’re the lady who died and came back to life!”

“What is he saying?” Bill demanded, still roughing up the boy.

“You’re hurting him!  Stop it!” I cried angrily. 

I proceeded to translate what the boy
had said and Bill calmed down, letting him go in the process.  I squatted down to the child’s eye level and Drew flinched, ready to attack.  I looked up at him and frowned.

Turning my attention back to the boy, I smiled. 
“What is your name?” I asked in Italian.

“Pietro,” t
he boy said, his big brown eyes wide with fear and excitement.

“I’m sorry if my bodyguards scared yo
u.”

Pietro’s eyes wandered upward and settled on Bill’s steely face.  He quickly looked back at me.  “Are they going to kill me?” he whispered.

“No.  They were only trying to protect me,” I assured.

The relief on the boy’s face was comical. 
“My big sister is a school teacher and she believes you are an angel.  She prays to you sometimes,” he said excitedly.

This information disturbed me.  I knew people viewed me as a miracle of science, but not
as an object of worship.  I tightened my hands around his little shoulders and said firmly, “Listen to me, Pietro. I’m
not
an angel.  I’m a person just like you- do you understand?”

In a matter of months I ha
d experienced one extreme view to another.  If people could just settle somewhere in between, I’d be happy.

The boy was
crossing himself.  He looked genuinely frightened and ran off into the night.  I stood and sighed.  “Barbara, Alicia, these are my bodyguards Bill and Drew,” I said resignedly.

The women
had to crane their necks to look up at the big men.

“S
orry, Mrs. Adams, but we can’t take any chances,” Bill said, already walking away.

Drew looked at us apologe
tically before following suit.

I looked at Barbara and Alicia.  “I’m so sorry
, ladies.”

“Does this sort of thing happen to you often?” Barbara
asked.

“No,” I replied.

“You have bodyguards?” Alicia asked, amazed.

“No, I mean, not usually.  My husband insisted they come along.  This is my first international trip since my awakening,” I explained.

“He’s protective of you,” Barbara said. 

When I nodded, Alicia
added, “He must love you very much.”

“Yes,” I said, but it sounded sad to my own ears.

“Well, I can’t say I blame him after what happened to you on Good Morning USA,” Barbara pointed out.  When I groaned in shame, she added, “Oh, don’t worry, honey.  Who cares what those crazy people believe?  I think you’re delightful.”

“Me too,” Alicia chimed in.

I smiled.  “Thank you for understanding.” 

“
Well, I’ve had more than my fair share of excitement for one night,” Barbara announced.  Turning to Alicia, she added, “I think we should head back to our hotel.”

Alicia looked disappointed, but nodded in agreement.  Barbara called a taxi and I waited unti
l it arrived before bidding them both a goodnight.  As the taxi sped off, I walked towards the Spanish Steps.  Bill and Drew were on the next corner already waiting for me.  They flanked me as I walked past them and kept pace with me.

“Did you really have to do that?” I deman
ded.

“He could have had a weapon,” Drew said.