Sammy in Italy (Single Wide Female Travels #2) (2 page)

Max grinned. “What’s wrong? Don’t trust me?”
 

“Of course I trust you.”
 

“Then let’s ride, baby.” He swept his arm around my waist and tugged me toward the parking lot.

I tried to think of a few different excuses to make him change his mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Max, I just wasn’t sure that riding around a new country on a motorbike was the best idea.

Another attendant met Max in the parking lot with two helmets.
 

“Make sure they’re fastened well.”
 

“Not a problem.” Max smiled and pushed the helmet down on top of my head. He tugged the chinstrap tight. “How’s that?”
 

“Snug.”
 

“Perfect.” He donned his own helmet. “Ready?”
 

“As I’ll ever be.” I looked from him to the motorbike. It looked more like a dirt bike to me—much smaller than a regular motorcycle. “This is for both of us? How are we going to fit?”
 

“Well, that’s the best part.” Max met my eyes. “You’re going to have to get in close to me and
 
hold on tight.” He hopped on and patted the seat behind him.
 

I laughed and climbed on to the back of the bike. Maybe it wasn’t what I would have normally done in the situation—I probably would have accepted the taxi—but the joy in Max’s eyes couldn’t be replaced by the comfort of a taxi. I wrapped my arms around his waist and realized just why he thought it would be a good idea. It was wonderful to hold him so close as he roared out of the parking lot.
 

Venice flew by me as Max sped down the road. I tried to catch a glimpse or two of the things that I passed, but there was too much to see without stopping.

When we finally did stop, it was in front of a majestic hotel. I was a little surprised by the size of it. Its steepled roof seemed to scream romance.

Max helped me off the back of the motorbike.
 

“See? That wasn't so bad, was it?” He smiled at me.
 

“Ask me when my legs stop wobbling.” I grinned and looped my arm through his. “I wouldn't have wanted to do it with anyone else.”
 

“Good to know.” He guided me to the door of the hotel.

When Max opened the door the bright light of the lobby greeted me. A lovely scent filled the air. The warmth of the lobby, combined with the lilt of peaceful music that filtered through speakers in each corner of the room, enveloped me with a sense of warmth.
 

“It's beautiful.” I leaned my head against Max’s shoulder and squeezed his arm.
 

“Made even more beautiful by your presence.” He winked at me as we walked up to the front desk.

I gave the woman behind the desk the information for the reservation.
 

“Ah yes, the honeymoon suite.”
 

“Are you sure? It should just be a regular room.” I frowned as I tried to peer around her at the computer screen.
 

“No mistake. Isabella insisted. She said that you and your husband should be treated to anything that you’d like, so feel free to peruse the room service menu.” She handed me a set of key cards. “These will let you into the room as well as the pool, the spa, and the gym.”
 

“Wow! We don't need to leave the hotel.” Max laughed.
 

“Only for the book signing. There will be some information on the sessions in your room. Isabella will try to meet you both for dinner. Her schedule is a bit busier than she’d expected. Until then, if you need anything just ring the front desk.”
 

“Thank you.” I handed one of the keys to Max.
 

“Have fun.” The woman smiled. “I'm looking forward to your book signing.”
 

I nodded to her and smiled again. It was amazing to me how many fans I'd already run into. Maybe it would be a small amount to an actual celebrity, but to me it was huge.

Chapter 3

We rode the elevator up to the top floor.

Max glanced over at me. “Are you excited?”
 

“Very—and a little nervous.”
 

“You’ll get used to it. By the time the tour is over, you’ll be a pro.”
 

“I hope so.” I smiled and took Max’s hand as we stepped off the elevator.

Instead of stepping off into a hallway, we stepped into a foyer that led directly into the honeymoon suite. The living space was filled with overstuffed furniture and marble décor.
 

“Wow, look at this place. Maybe we should call Isabella and make sure that this isn’t a mistake. Can you imagine how much this cost?”
 

“Sh, don’t worry about that.” Max wrapped his arms around me. “This is your life now, Sammy, and it’s only going to get better. You’re in demand, and the more popular you become, the more luxury you’re going to be surrounded by.”
 

“But what if I don’t want that?” I turned around slowly as I took in the full impact of my beautiful surroundings. “What if all this makes me uncomfortable?”
 

Max slid his hands into his pockets and studied me. After a few moments he frowned.
 

“What is it?” he asked. “Do you think you don’t deserve this?”
 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
 

“You deserve all this and more.” He brushed his hand across my shoulder and turned me to face him. “You’ve done all of this on your own. You’ve generated this desire in people to provide you with an amazing experience. How could that make you uncomfortable?”
 

I sighed and looked into his eyes. “I don’t know, but it does. Maybe I have this feeling—like if I get used to it, it’s all going to disappear.”

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “No one knows what the future will bring, but the important things—what we feel for one another and the impact you seem to be having on women around the world—those things will never disappear. So relax and enjoy it. Hm? If you worry yourself over it, then in five years when you look back you’re going to wonder why you didn’t just enjoy this moment.”
 

“How did you get so wise?” I brushed my fingertips along the curve of his cheek.

“I learned it from you, I think.”
 

“Ha. I doubt it.”
 

“And that’s the problem.” He kissed my forehead again. “You have to find a way to wash that doubt right out of your system, Sammy.”
 

“You’re right.” I frowned and looked down at my feet. “Sometimes I really wonder how I can give advice to other women when I still struggle so much myself.”
 

“That’s when someone gives the best advice, don’t you think? These women aren’t looking for someone to tell them what to do. They’re looking for someone who feels what they feel. Can I tell you something?”
 

“Of course.” I looked back up into his eyes.
 

“You promise not to argue with me?”
 

“Uh.” I grinned.
 

“You promise that you’ll try not to argue with me?” He winked.
 

“Yes, I’ll try.”
 

“Sammy, I’ve never—not for a second—doubted you.” He smiled and pulled me close to him. “I know that you have a hard time believing that, but it’s the truth. You turned my world upside down the day I met you. You still do—every time I look at you.”
 

“How did I get so lucky?” I sighed and hugged him.
 

“That’s what I ask myself.” He kissed the side of my neck. “We’re lucky we have each other—and this moment—and this amazing experience. I’m sure that we can think of a few ways to enjoy it.”
 

“Oh yes, I believe we can.” I laughed as he tugged me toward the bedroom.
 

A few hours later I smoothed down the black skirt of my cocktail dress. In the mirror it looked too tight. My legs were too exposed. My shoulders peeked out of the capped sleeves. Should I change? I tugged at one of the sleeves.
 

“You look gorgeous.” Max stepped out of the bathroom in a gray jacket that made his eyes shine. “Ready to go?”
 

“I’m not sure.” I stared into the mirror for a few more seconds. “I think maybe I should change.”
 

He glanced at his watch. “We don’t really have time. You look perfect just like that. What’s the problem?”
 

I took a deep breath and remembered our conversation from earlier in the day. I had to stop doubting myself so much. Instead of seeing the flaws of the dress, I forced myself to see the parts I liked. The skirt flattered my hips. The neckline was dramatic without being classless. The fine detail along the hem was what drew me to the dress in the first place.
 

“Okay, let’s go.” I grabbed my purse and hurried away from the mirror before I could change my mind.

In the elevator on the way down to the lobby, I noticed Max as he tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. First one, then the other. Then he straightened his tie. I smiled to myself as I realized that maybe he had his own doubts.
 

“You look great, Max.”
 

He glanced over at me with surprise. “Thanks.”
 

“I mean it.” I trailed a hand down along the sleeve of his jacket, then took his hand in mine. “I can’t wait to show you off.”
 

“Oh, really?” He grinned and took a step closer to me.
 

“Yes, really.” I leaned in for a kiss just as the elevator doors slid open.

Chapter 4

“I see you’re enjoying Italy.”

Isabella was standing there grinning at us as the elevator doors slid open.

I pulled away from Max and as I did I stumbled on my high heel. Max reached out to catch me but only managed to grab my arm on the way down. I still landed on my rear end right in front of Isabella and about twenty other people who were waiting to board the elevator.
 

“Sammy, are you okay?” Max pulled me back to my feet.
 

I couldn’t look at Isabella. My cheeks burned so hot that I knew any make-up I put on was wasted. “I’m okay.” I hurried off the elevator so that the people who were waiting could get on.

Max kept one hand on my lower back. Whether it was to prevent another fall or offer me support didn’t really matter. I appreciated it.
 

“That was quite a tumble. You didn’t twist your ankle, did you?” Isabella looked down at my ankle with concern—my huge ankles.
 

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I feel so foolish.”
 

“Don’t feel that way. I shouldn’t have startled you. We have a table reserved in the restaurant here.”
 

“I want to thank you for the incredible room. It’s really much more than we expected.”
 

“Good. I wanted it to be. You should be able to enjoy yourself while you’re here. I want this to be a memory for you, not just a leg of your tour.”

“It certainly is.” I smiled.

As we sat down at the table, I tried to let go of the embarrassment of my fall in the elevator. I needed to focus on the moment.

Isabella ordered a fine wine, then looked across the table at me. “So there have been some changes to our itinerary.”
 

“Oh?” I took a sip of the wine that the waiter delivered.
 

“Yes, unfortunately the book signing I had lined up at a local bookstore got shot down.”
 

“Oh, no.” My eyes widened.
 

“It turns out that they had a bit of a bug problem and have been forced to fumigate. It’s horrifying, I know.” She sighed. “But I managed to book us a venue. It’s not quite what you’re used to, though.”
 

“What is it?” I braced myself. Would it be in a school cafeteria somewhere? Would it be on a street corner?
 

“As you know, your book is very popular, and even more so here in Venice. I put my feelers out to local events that would be able to handle the turnout I’m expecting, and one event in particular practically begged me for the opportunity to host you.”
 

“Oh, how nice.” My heart fluttered.

Max took my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.
 

“There’s a small fashion show taking place tomorrow. It is an intimate gathering, but it’s very selective—invite only. Alistair—the man in charge—offered to open up the venue prior to the fashion show, for all our guests.”

“A fashion show?” I frowned. Even the street corner sounded better than that. “Do you really think that’s an appropriate setting?”
 

“What could be better?” Isabella raised an eyebrow. “You inspire people to see their beauty, and a fashion show is all about beauty.”
 

“It’s not that I’m not grateful for the opportunity—I really am—but it just seems to me that a fashion show only perpetuates one kind of beauty…and I doubt that many of my readers could identify with that type of beauty.” I frowned. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
 

“Perhaps you need to get to know all of your readers, Samantha.” Isabella paused as the waiter returned to take our orders.

The tone of her voice lingered with me. Had I offended her? My stomach churned. I really wasn’t getting off to a great start with Isabella, between the fall and then my response to her idea. After all she’d done to make us feel comfortable, I shouldn’t be difficult.
 

“You know what, Isabella, you’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I was just a little surprised. I’m sure you know best what would be a good venue. So if you think this is the right way to go, then I’m all for it.”
 

Isabella smiled at me. “I think you’re going to love it. In fact, Alistair has even invited you to be part of the runway show.”
 

“What?” My eyes widened.
 

“You really must. It would be fantastic publicity.”