Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2) by T.A. Williams (best ereader under 100 TXT) 📗

She looked over at her mum and grinned. ‘If I’m honest, I suppose that’s also part of his attraction. For years now I’ve been fighting to get people to see beyond Polly and her low-cut tops. At least if he does like me, it’s got to be for the real me, not a fictitious TV character.’

She flew back to Florence on Friday afternoon and picked up her car at the airport. She had arranged to meet Teresa from the Uffizi Gallery for a drink before driving back home and she was lucky enough to find a parking spot in the centre of town, not far from the station. She walked into the centro storico via the San Lorenzo market, pushing her way through the crowds, her bag firmly clutched in both hands. As ever, the shops and stalls lining the streets sold all manner of things, especially souvenirs and items for tourists, ranging from T-shirts to umbrellas – not that umbrellas were likely to be wanted in today’s baking heat.

She stopped at one stall and bought her mum a new purse, and then found a lovely old-style hardware shop and bought a good corkscrew to replace the one in her little house, which looked as though it was not long for this life. She also bought a little packet of wedge-shaped corks so she could seal wine bottles after opening them, thus avoiding waste or being forced to drink a whole bottle in one go. As she had discovered to her cost after opening Signor Innocenti’s bottle of sparkling wine, there was no way that sort of cork would go back in again once it had come out and expanded.

Well pleased with her purchases, she headed for her meeting with Teresa. As she passed a little shop dedicated to pet supplies, something caught her eye. It was a smart-looking red dog collar with the words dog and cane embossed on it in a never-ending loop. On an impulse, she stopped to ask the man if it would fit a Labrador and when he confirmed this, she bought one for Guinness. This, she told herself, would show Matt that she had been thinking about him – or his dog, at least.

She met up with Teresa in the same cafe as before, and they sat in the shade for a drink and a chat. Since she was driving, Alice opted for an ice-cold mineral water, while Teresa ordered a glass of Prosecco. It was a lovely way to end the day and they chatted about all sorts of things. Needless to say, they also discussed Renaissance art, and this reinforced Alice’s sense of disappointment and frustration that Carrie’s revenge photos had robbed her of the chance to begin her career with the auction house. When she told Teresa the sad tale of how her hopes of that job had been torpedoed, she read sympathy on her friend’s face.

‘That’s their loss, Alice. Try not to let it bother you.’

After an hour or so, Teresa had to go. ‘My husband and I are invited out for dinner tonight, so I need to get off. Maybe we could meet up with you one evening and I can get to know your other half?’

Alice shook her head. ‘I’d love to meet your husband, but there’s no other half now, as of a few days ago.’ She shook her head in response to Teresa’s interrogative look. ‘It’s a long story. The more I think about it, though, the more I realise that it isn’t tragic. I’m definitely better off without him. So it’s just me – at least for now.’

‘And nobody waiting in the wings? I always imagined you’d be fighting the men off. I was watching a repeat episode of Pals Across the Pond the other night and you looked so great. You still do.’

Alice acknowledged the compliment but added a qualification. ‘Thanks, that’s really good to hear, but don’t forget that the girl you were watching was Polly. I loved her at the time, and I have a lot to thank her for, but she still keeps on bobbing up now and then. I’ve been trying to separate myself from her for years, but her spectre comes back and bites me on the bum from time to time – like yesterday in London, for instance. No, I’m happily on my own for now.’

Was that really true?

Chapter 16

As she set off on her morning run the next day, she had to smile at herself. There was no doubt she had spent almost as long getting ready for a half-hour run as for a night out. She was wearing a freshly washed top and a new pair of shorts bought specially in Florence the previous day, and she had even spent a ridiculously long time plaiting her hair. She hoped her efforts would not be wasted but, as it turned out, she could have saved herself the trouble. Although she took her time jogging up the road past the entrance to the villa and back again, there was no sign of Matt or Guinness the dog. By the time she got home and stood under the shower, she was feeling disappointed – and just a bit silly.

Determined to give it one more try, at nine o’clock she went out to the cafe to see Rita and have a cappuccino and one of her gorgeous doughnuts. It was as she was sitting outside, enjoying the relative cool of the morning, that a familiar vehicle pulled up on the far side of the little piazza. Seconds later, a big black arrow came flying across the square and did his best to climb onto her lap.

‘Ciao, Guinness.’ He appeared delighted to see her, and he redoubled his efforts to reach up and kiss her. A few seconds later his master appeared but, alas, didn’t try to emulate his dog. He stopped by her table and looked down with a little smile on his face that immediately resulted in a