complementing their respective chassis. She had worn minimal makeup during the day, but when he picked her up that evening in front of the shop she had a soft blush on her face which contrasted with the dark hair and darker eyes. She gave him a peck on the cheek and slipped into the seat of the Alfa. Rick closed the passenger door carefully and walked around to the driverâs side while trying again to identify her perfume. He would have to ask. It was his experience that women loved being asked about their perfume.
âThis should be an interesting evening,â she said as Rick pulled slowly from the curb. âI feel like weâre going undercover.â She flashed a quick smile.
You donât know the half of it, he thought. âLikely itâs just a coincidence, and the man is without blemish, but it is somewhat eerie that we actually followed someone to his villa this very afternoon.â
âIsnât it? His nephew, your friend, what does he do in Rome? Also a businessman, I suppose?â
âHe should be an industrialist, like his father and his uncle, but Beppo works in an office at the Culture Ministry. Is this where I turn?â
After a few traffic lights, on the same route they had taken earlier, the buildings became fewer and the only lights were from their headlights and the occasional farmhouse along the side of the road. The few cars they passed were coming toward Bassano, likely for a meal in one of the cityâs restaurants. The farther they drove from town the fewer the cars in either direction.
Betta turned in her seat and looked at Rickâs profile. âDo you always wear your hair this long?â
âItâs not really that long.â He took one hand off the wheel and ran it through his hair while he tried to remember the last time heâd been to the barber. âYou think I should cut it?â
âNo, no. It looks fine. It goes with the cowboy boots.â She turned her eyes back to the road ahead. âItâs the first time Iâve been out with a man who wears cowboy boots.â
âBack in New Mexico, all the women I dated wore cowboy boots.â
âReally?â
âYou should get a pair. Youâd be surprised how comfortable they are.â
âAnd I imagine they protect you against rattlesnakes.â
âThat too.â
The road was now a straight line. They watched a set of headlights appear in the distance, get larger, and zip past them. âIs it really that different in America?â
Rick glanced at Betta and then back at the pavement. âIf youâre hoping Iâll say that people are the same under the skin the world over, youâll be disappointed. Do you think that Milanese are different from Neapolitans?â
âTheyâre not from the same planet.â
âAnd proud of it.â
âSo how is your New Mexico different from my Veneto?â
âTo begin with, the women here ask harder questions.â
Ten minutes later their car turned into the driveway and stopped at the gate. âSignor Montoya?â squawked a voice from an invisible source.
â Si ,â Rick called through his open window as he searched unsuccessfully for a camera or microphone. The gate ground open and they drove up the gravel driveway to the house, where a man in a white coat came down the steps and opened the car door to allow Betta to step out.
âYou may leave the car where it is, Signor Montoya. There is only one other guest this evening.â He nodded toward a dark sedan parked a few meters in front of Rickâs car. âThis way, please.â Rick and Betta followed him up a few steps, where he held open the door for them to enter the villa and then closed it behind them. âMay I take your wrap, Signora?â
âIâll keep it for the moment, thank you.â The garment over her shoulders, a milky coffee color, was something between a scarf and a shawl. It hung