Free The Venice Job by Deborah Abela Page A

confident.
    â€˜That’s the spirit!’ Steinberger leant into the camera as if to look at Max more closely. ‘Are youokay, Max? You look different somehow.’
    Max didn’t like the attention focused on her.
    â€˜No. I’m fine.’
    â€˜You seem a little pale. Must be the reception.’ Steinberger leant back. ‘If you have any further questions, call me at any time. My lines will be open twenty-four hours a day. I have complete faith that we have sent the best team for this mission. Good luck.’
    Steinberger signed off and the connection ended.
    Max closed her palm computer and brushed past Luca’s arm as she put it in her pocket, making her suddenly aware of how close they were sitting.
    â€˜And now I’d like to invite you all to dinner.’ Luca smiled.
    â€˜Excellent.’ Max jumped up quickly and clanged her head into the Shush Zone. ‘As soon as Linden deactivates this.’
    The green glow of the Shush Zone disappeared as Linden turned away to hide a smirk and Max did her best not to look embarrassed.
    Max, Toby and Linden soon realised that Luca’s idea of dinner was very different from what they had expected. They stood at the entrance to a huge dining hall lit with intricate chandeliers and the soft light of candelabras. A long table was filledwith an endless banquet of food surrounded by laughing, talking, well-dressed guests.
    This time, none of the three spies could speak.
    â€˜Please,’ Luca led them towards his parents who were seated at the head of the table. ‘Mama, Papa, these are my friends.’
    â€˜Welcome.’ Luca’s mother’s voice was warm and inviting.
    â€˜We are very pleased to have you here,’ said Luca’s father. ‘If you need anything during your stay, consider it yours. Enjoy.’
    Luca invited them to sit down as a tall man in an elegant suit announced them. ‘Mr Linden Franklin, Mr Toby Jennings and Ms Maxine Remy from Australia.’
    The stylish diners nodded and held glasses up to them.
    â€˜I would have been happy with pizza,’ Toby whispered to Linden as they sat down, but Linden wasn’t listening. He was gazing at the food before him as if he’d suddenly been dropped into heaven.
    There was minestrone soup, quail baked with almonds and orange, crispy skinned roast chicken and potatoes, lasagne, spinach-filled cannelloni, grilled fish with a cream and salmon sauce, and plates overflowing with cheeses, fruit and berries.This was followed by crystal bowls of chocolate mousse covered in strawberries and, for anyone who could fit it in, pistachio and pecan gelato.
    Throughout the meal, Linden fell into bouts of dreamy silence followed by attempts to guess all the ingredients of the dishes, as if he wasn’t on a top-secret mission but a gourmet tour of Italy.
    â€˜This is like eating little pieces of happiness.’ Linden stared at the quail on his fork before slowly polishing it off.
    â€˜Linden likes food?’ Luca asked Max.
    â€˜He could be falling out of a helicopter, but someone mention food and he forgets where he is.’
    Luca laughed. ‘You are very funny. I like that.’
    Luca gave Max a smile that made her feel she’d lost her stomach on a roller-coaster. To stop anything stupid coming out of her mouth, she reached for her glass and took a sip of her drink, only it went down the wrong way and she turned bright crimson while trying not to choke.
    â€˜Are you okay?’ Luca asked.
    â€˜Sure,’ she said through a few wheezed coughs.
    After a couple of minutes, Max’s throat calmed down and she felt better. She took a deep breath and enjoyed breathing normally again. All around her were women entwined with jewels and mensitting beneath perfectly styled hairdos and suits.
    â€˜Who are all these people?’
    â€˜Friends of my fathers, dignitaries, hangers-on. Being the son of a mayor means you don’t have many quiet