The B&B’s bed was relatively comfortable, all things considered. Billed as a winery with a rustic B&B was some creative marketing. In reality, it was an old house with some vineyards and a bar that most locals used for “tastings”. Regardless, we preferred these little places. No credit cards and minimal ID. Thanks to satellite TV, I don’t have to suffer through local channels, either.
The click of heels across the hardwood floor got my attention.
“Going somewhere, love? I thought we were in for the night.”
“Remember the loud Italian who kept ‘bumping into me’ tonight at the bar?”
“The one with the big gold crucifix that’s been handed down from generation to generation like anybody cares? That one?”
“Yes, lover…that one. I’m meeting him on the rooftop deck for a nightcap. He seemed thrilled with the idea.”
“Uh-huh. Well don’t be too late, I think we’ll cross paths with our target tomorrow and I’ll want you rested.”
She bent down to kiss me goodnight offering me a view I’ve never tired of, “I’ll be ready for her tomorrow…provided this lead pans-out better than the last goose chase.”
* * * * * * * * *
“You weren’t long last night,” I offered as I stowed the bags into the Porsche the following morning.
“Some are quicker than others. What can I say?” she smiled.
Driving off towards the city, I caught the glint of the crucifix dangling from the weather vane as she leaned over the console.