Page 76 of The Roman Holiday Rule

“Hey, you. I thought I wouldn’t see you until tomorrow.” I’m out of my seat and standing in front of her before I process what’s going on.

Then I put the facts together and my smile fades. I should have remembered. On the plane. She told me she’d reserved a rental.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Lexington.” This isn’t her problem, and I’m not ruining her Italy plans. She thought ahead. She lined up all the details for this trip.

“Are you here for a Vespa rental too? That’s a crazy coincidence.”

She glances around, as if seeing the office and the baby scooter for the first time. “Is there only one rental left?”

“Yeah, it’s yours.”

She tilts her head. “Did you have somewhere you need to be?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I should just go instead of standing here making this awkward.

“Mark.” She sets her hands on her hips and pins me with a be-honest stare. “Either you need a Vespa rental, you know this guy, or you’re stalking me. Which is it?”

“Don’t know him,” the employee says, pushing his glasses higher on his nose.

I toss my hands up. “Thanks for having my back, man.”

“I’ll let you two sort this out.” The guy disappears through a door at the back, leaving it open.

I rub my neck. “I was supposed to drive out to Monte Migliore today—”

“Oh, that’s right, your event thing!” Her face shows the chagrin I feel.

“Right, and the friend who borrowed my car won’t get back in time. That scooter is too pansy for my manliness anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

She grins, but bites her lip. “I would let you take it, but I have to fulfill a promise. Tomorrow and Sunday I’ll be busy with the festival, so it has to be now.”

Because then she’s out of time. Neither of us mentions the After the Festival.

I reach for her hands, massaging her palm. “Promises are important. I promise, for example, not to make fun of you in that flower helmet. Now go sign that paperwork.”

She glances from our hands up to my face, and her smile asks me loads of questions we can’t answer right now. “Where’s that town you need to drive to? I’m going north. Maybe we could double up if we’re headed in the same direction.”

“Due south. You don’t need to solve this for me. I’m a big boy, I’ll manage.” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Now put that helmet on so I can not make fun of you.”

She shakes her head, and her smile is full of that sweet nature I saw in the airport, wanting to ease someone else’s trouble. “I only need the Vespa for a few hours. If I’m back by five o’clock, would that give you enough time to get to where you need to be?”

“Yes, but—”

The employee pokes his head through the doorway from where he’s clearly been listening. “Only thirty more euros a day to add a driver.”

I toy with her pinky finger. “You don’t have to do this.”

“We have time to both use it today.” Her chin dips, and she looksup at me from under her lashes, playful. “I refuse to be a tourist leaving a mess for someone else to fix.”

Like me, she must remember every stupid word I spoke on that plane ride. “Lexington, I’m sorry I—”

Her eyes shine in amusement. “I’m teasing. My real motivation is to even the hero score.”

“Passport and lira versus a Vespa half-rental? Consider it almost even.”

She slaps my arm as we head for the paperwork on the desk. “Pick it up at my hotel?”