Free Coventina by Jamie Antonia Symonanis

to her loudly in Italian.
    “What the hell is that guy saying?” Layla asked.
    “He is saying to mind your own fucking business or he will blow your nose off,” Paulo said. “We should leave.”
    “Okay Paulo, to the restaurant,” Layla said. As he pulled away Layla put her arm out the window and sent the man flying into a parked car with such force he collapsed on the ground moaning in pain.
    Blow my nose off hey?
    Let’s go eat a good dinner. I have a feeling you are going to see a lot of faces belonging to assholes you want to smash before this is over.
    Paulo dropped them off on Via Panisperna. “Thank you for everything Paulo,” Denise said, handing him a hundred dollar bill.
    “Gracie Dick. Enjoy your dinner. Enjoy your stay in Rome.”
    “We will, thank you.”
    The place did not look like a restaurant from the outside. The inside however embraced them with the luscious smell of Italian food. Before they went inside they changed back to themselves. They were directed to a table for two along the wall. They kept it simple and ordered spaghetti with meatballs.
    Denise discovered that she could make out many words being spoken in Italian after her newly acquired knowledge of Latin.
    “I’m stuffed now. This food is amazing,” Layla said.
    “Ladies, would you care for dessert?” the waitress asked.
    “If we only had room after this amazing meal. Tell me, is it easy to get a taxi once we leave?” Denise said.
    “If you are ready to leave we will call one for you. They get here quickly.”
    “Would you please, we are ready for the check?”
    Once again Denise left a generous tip and they stepped outside to find a taxi waiting.
    “Straight to the Best Western President Hotel please,” Layla said.
    The driver could barely speak English. Denise decided to try something as they zipped through the dark streets back to the hotel. “Quid tempestates ponatur in crastinum?”
    “Qual è il tempo dovrebbe essere come domain? Wuesto é meglio Italiano,” the driver smiled.
    “You understood what I said. Did you study Latin or did you just know being Italian?”
    “Si, I have study Latin. Much Romans have study Latin. But, to speak Italian you can figure out mostly,” he said.
    “Gracie.”
    The taxi came to a quick stop in front of the hotel. Denise paid adding a nice tip and they made it up to their room.
    “Did you notice if the shower was big enough for two?” Denise asked when they were on the elevator.
    “Does it matter?” Layla grinned.
    In the morning they still felt full from the late dinner and made their way to a nearby McDonald’s for a few Café Mocha’s. “I was unaware it would be impossible to find a Starbucks in Italy,” Denise said.
    “I bet they have their own pretty good coffee places wouldn’t you think?”
    “I can’t think yet. I need coffee,” Denise squinted.
    “Oh baby do you ever.”
    Drinks in hand, Denise directed Layla back to the scene of the crime, in hopes of seeing the person who watched as the suitcases were tossed.
    “Think we’ll have any luck?” Layla asked.
    “Oh yeah. We will get an interview.”
    The Mustang pulled up in the driveway to PPL Worldwide, stopped at the gate and waited.
    “Push the button, time’s a wasting,” Denise said.
    Layla pushed the button. The woman’s voice spoke Italian. “Possum adiuvare vos?”
    “Hello, does anyone speak English?” Denise said, leaning towards the driver window.
    “You can rest your head on my shoulder if you like,” Layla whispered.
    “Yes. Can I help you?”
    “We would like to see Raphaela Strutto please?”
    “Proceed through the gate. Someone will meet you at the large doors.”
    “Gracie.” Layla said.
    The thick gate opened and Layla drove back to the large doors as instructed.
    The door opened and a security guard walked over to the car. “You will excuse us for taking these precautions, but we had some men create a disturbance two days ago trying to get in. They too wanted to speak