back on the uncomfortable shoes. Standing up, she took her
beaded bag and started weaving through the crowd that stood between
her and the bar. They were watching the action on the dance floor
or gathered into little clumps engrossed in conversation. How
they can hear one another I'll never know , she thought. She
loved the music, but it was deafening. A space opened up, and
turning sideways, she slipped through it. In the distance she could
see the bar. As enormous as it was, it was jammed with people four
and five deep.
Allegra didn't find the scene off-putting as
she sometimes did. Tonight, on the contrary, she was enjoying being
out among the trendy revelry and away from her workshop.
' Scusi ,' an extremely tall young man
said in a heavily accented voice as he bumped her side. His deep,
resonant voice was raised so she could hear him over the music.
Allegra turned and looked up at him. He was
very handsome, deeply tanned with longish dark hair combed straight
back, dark eyes full of mischief, and a square jaw. 'It's okay,'
she said with a smile, raising her voice as he had.
His high forehead creased in a frown. 'Don't
I know you?' he asked. Then his lips spread in a smile, exposing
gleaming white teeth. 'Yes, I'm sure I do. It was Positano last
summer, wasn't it?'
Allegra shook her head. How many times had
she heard this or a similar pickup line? 'No,' she replied
good-naturedly. 'In fact, I've never set foot in Positano.'
'Saint Moritz, then,' he said, unwilling to
end the game. 'Last winter. Yes. At the Corviglia Club.'
'I hate to disappoint you, but I haven't been
there, either,' Allegra said. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to
get some water.'
His handsome features collapsed into a mask
of mock disappointment. 'No, no,' he said. 'You must allow me to
get it for you.'
'That's really not necessary,' Allegra
replied.
'I insist,' he said. 'Look.' He gestured to
the crowded bar. 'I'm a regular here. They know me well, so I can
save you time.' He looked at her with a theatrical plea.
Why not? she asked herself. She had to
admit that he was extraordinarily good-looking, and his manners
were impeccable. 'Okay,' Allegra said at last. 'Why not?'
'Come with me,' he said, gently placing a
hand on her arm. 'I'm Carlo, by the way. Carlo d'Annunzio.'
'Allegra,' she said, following him into the
crush of bar patrons.
He turned and smiled down at her. 'Ah. You're
Italian, also?'
Allegra shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'I
hate to disappoint you again, but my mother just happened to like
the name.'
'I see,' he said. 'So you are Allegra. And
that's it?'
She looked at him with puzzlement.
'No last name?' he said, his eyes twinkling.
'That's okay. I understand. After all, I could be a serial
killer.'
'Sheridan,' she said obligingly.
'Stay right here on this spot, Allegra
Sheridan,' he said, pointing a finger downward, 'and I'll have your
water in a flash.' He turned and elbowed his way into the crowd,
politely excusing himself as he went, one arm held high in the air,
gesturing toward the nearest bartender.
Allegra turned and looked back toward the
dance floor, but still saw no sign of Todd or Candie. She felt a
hand on her shoulder and turned back. Carlo, already.
'Mademoiselle,' he said, smiling as he handed
her a tall glass of ice water. 'Or is it madame?'
'Mademoiselle,' she replied, 'and you really
were fast. Thank you very much.'
'It's nothing,' Carlo replied with a shrug.
'I told you. They know me. Well, cheers.' He lifted a glass of
pinkish liquid and waited for Allegra to follow suit. They touched
glasses and took sips of their drinks.
'What is that you're having?' she asked.
'It's champagne,' he said, 'with a shot of
Campari. Would you like a taste?'
Allegra shook her head. 'No, thanks,' she
said. 'Water's perfect. I'm so dehydrated from dancing.'
'Of course,' he said, 'you would be. I'm sure
every single man in this place has asked you.'
'That's nice of you to say, but actually, no
one's had the
beaded bag and started weaving through the crowd that stood between
her and the bar. They were watching the action on the dance floor
or gathered into little clumps engrossed in conversation. How
they can hear one another I'll never know , she thought. She
loved the music, but it was deafening. A space opened up, and
turning sideways, she slipped through it. In the distance she could
see the bar. As enormous as it was, it was jammed with people four
and five deep.
Allegra didn't find the scene off-putting as
she sometimes did. Tonight, on the contrary, she was enjoying being
out among the trendy revelry and away from her workshop.
' Scusi ,' an extremely tall young man
said in a heavily accented voice as he bumped her side. His deep,
resonant voice was raised so she could hear him over the music.
Allegra turned and looked up at him. He was
very handsome, deeply tanned with longish dark hair combed straight
back, dark eyes full of mischief, and a square jaw. 'It's okay,'
she said with a smile, raising her voice as he had.
His high forehead creased in a frown. 'Don't
I know you?' he asked. Then his lips spread in a smile, exposing
gleaming white teeth. 'Yes, I'm sure I do. It was Positano last
summer, wasn't it?'
Allegra shook her head. How many times had
she heard this or a similar pickup line? 'No,' she replied
good-naturedly. 'In fact, I've never set foot in Positano.'
'Saint Moritz, then,' he said, unwilling to
end the game. 'Last winter. Yes. At the Corviglia Club.'
'I hate to disappoint you, but I haven't been
there, either,' Allegra said. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to
get some water.'
His handsome features collapsed into a mask
of mock disappointment. 'No, no,' he said. 'You must allow me to
get it for you.'
'That's really not necessary,' Allegra
replied.
'I insist,' he said. 'Look.' He gestured to
the crowded bar. 'I'm a regular here. They know me well, so I can
save you time.' He looked at her with a theatrical plea.
Why not? she asked herself. She had to
admit that he was extraordinarily good-looking, and his manners
were impeccable. 'Okay,' Allegra said at last. 'Why not?'
'Come with me,' he said, gently placing a
hand on her arm. 'I'm Carlo, by the way. Carlo d'Annunzio.'
'Allegra,' she said, following him into the
crush of bar patrons.
He turned and smiled down at her. 'Ah. You're
Italian, also?'
Allegra shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'I
hate to disappoint you again, but my mother just happened to like
the name.'
'I see,' he said. 'So you are Allegra. And
that's it?'
She looked at him with puzzlement.
'No last name?' he said, his eyes twinkling.
'That's okay. I understand. After all, I could be a serial
killer.'
'Sheridan,' she said obligingly.
'Stay right here on this spot, Allegra
Sheridan,' he said, pointing a finger downward, 'and I'll have your
water in a flash.' He turned and elbowed his way into the crowd,
politely excusing himself as he went, one arm held high in the air,
gesturing toward the nearest bartender.
Allegra turned and looked back toward the
dance floor, but still saw no sign of Todd or Candie. She felt a
hand on her shoulder and turned back. Carlo, already.
'Mademoiselle,' he said, smiling as he handed
her a tall glass of ice water. 'Or is it madame?'
'Mademoiselle,' she replied, 'and you really
were fast. Thank you very much.'
'It's nothing,' Carlo replied with a shrug.
'I told you. They know me. Well, cheers.' He lifted a glass of
pinkish liquid and waited for Allegra to follow suit. They touched
glasses and took sips of their drinks.
'What is that you're having?' she asked.
'It's champagne,' he said, 'with a shot of
Campari. Would you like a taste?'
Allegra shook her head. 'No, thanks,' she
said. 'Water's perfect. I'm so dehydrated from dancing.'
'Of course,' he said, 'you would be. I'm sure
every single man in this place has asked you.'
'That's nice of you to say, but actually, no
one's had the
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