Free Breathing Room by Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page A

been sent here to dislodge her. She took a bite and discovered the snap of the cheese and the honey's sweetness made them perfect companions. "Delicious."
    "The Tuscan cuisine is the best in the world. Ribollita, panzanella, wild boar sausage, fagioli with sage, Florentine tripe—"
    "I think I'll take a pass on the tripe."
    "Take a pass?"
    "Avoid."
    "Ah, yes. We eat perhaps more of the animal here than you do in the States."
    She smiled. They began chatting about the cuisine as well as local attractions. Had she been toPisayet? What about Volterra? She must tour some of the wineries in the Chianti region. As forSiena...its Piazza del Campo was the most beautiful inItaly. Did she know about the Palio, the horse races that took place each summer in the Campo itself? And the towered city ofSan Gimignanowas not to be missed. Had she seen it yet?
    She had not.
    "I will show you everything."
    "Oh, no."
    "But I am a professional guide. I do tours all overTuscanyandUmbria. Group and private.
    Walking tours, cooking tours, wine tours. Did no one offer you my services?"
    "They've been too busy trying to evict me."
    "Ah, yes. The sewer. It's true you didn't come at the best time, but there is much to see nearby, and I will take you sight-seeing during the day so you can escape the dirt and the noise."
    "I appreciate the offer, but I'm afraid I can't afford a private guide."
    "No, no." An elegant gesture of dismissal. "We will go only when I have no other clients, a gesture of friendship. I will show you all the places you cannot find on your own. You will not have to worry about driving on strange roads, and I will translate for you. A very good bargain, you will see."
    An extraordinary bargain. One, coincidentally, that would get her out of the farmhouse. "I couldn't possibly impose on you like that."
    "But it is not an imposition. You can pay for the petrol, yes?"
    Just then Marta emerged from the room at the back. She snapped off a few sprigs from a basil plant and carried them into the kitchen.
    He took a sip of his Chianti. "I have tomorrow free. Would you like to go toSienafirst? Or perhaps Monteriggioni. An exquisite little town. Dante writes of it in theInferno ."
    Her skin prickled at the name. But Dante the gigolo didn't exist, only Lorenzo Gage, a playboy movie star who'd been her partner in shame. Now that she'd met him, she didn't find it hard to believe that he'd driven Karli Swenson to suicide. Isabel was going to do her best to make sure she never saw him again.
    "Actually, I've come here to work, and I need to get started tomorrow."
    "Work? This is too bad. Still, we must all do what we have to." He smiled good-naturedly, finished his wine, then jotted a phone number on a piece of paper he pulled from his pocket. "If you need anything at all, you will call me."
    "Thank you."
    He gave her a dazzling smile, then a wave as be walked away. At least he was prepared to dislodge her with charm, or maybe she was being too suspicious. She fetched her copy of Yogananda'sAutobiography of a Yogi but ended up reading her travel guide instead.
    Tomorrow would be soon enough to reinvent her career.
    It had begun to grow dark by the time she went inside, and fragrant smells filled the kitchen. She entered just as Marta placed a bowl filled with a hearty-looking soup on a tray covered in snowy linen. The tray also held a glass of Isabel's Chianti, judging by the bottle next to it, as well as a serving of sliced red tomatoes garnished with dark, wrinkled olives and a crusty slab of bread. Any hopes Isabel had that the food might be intended for her faded, however, as Marta walked out the door with it. One of these days, Isabel really should learn how to cook.
    She slept well that night, and the next morning she awakened at eight instead of six as she'd intended. She jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. Now she'd have to cut her prayer and meditation session short or she'd never be able to catch up with her schedule. She turned