Read Online Seeking Sara Summers by Susan Gabriel - Free Book Online

landed at her feet, as if she were a new statue to explore. When she moved, they cooed their surprise and flew away in unison.
    Sara approached a taxi waiting near the train station. The driver quickly got out and lifted her luggage into the trunk. She showed him the piece of paper that confirmed her hotel and gave the address. He smiled and nodded. They traveled through the congested, narrow streets of Florence, sharing the road with an enormous number of scooters, Fiats, and pedestrians. The driver deftly maneuvered his way through the maze of streets and spoke like he drove, with very little pause. It hardly mattered that Sara couldn’t understand a word. His monologue played in the background like a radio. Too excited and exhausted to fear for her life, Sara gripped the back seat and leaned into the corners of the cab with every curve.
    A traffic light halted their progress. Sara caught her breath. The light changed. The driver accelerated quickly, swerving to miss a startled pedestrian. His dialogue became more animated, as Sara could only guess he held the pedestrian at fault. Well, I wanted an adventure, she thought. They took an immediate right before coming to an abrupt halt in front of a beautiful old hotel. The brass numbers on the outside matched the address on the paper she held in her hand. The driver pointed at the doorway and smiled. Despite the short, harrowing drive from the train station, he appeared completely devoid of stress. Sara gave him the appropriate euros and what she hoped was an appropriate tip. The driver thanked her, handed her luggage to the porter and drove away.
    The photos on the internet had not done the hotel justice. It was exquisite. “Thank you, Mimi,” Sara said under her breath. The room was spotless and filled with Italian antiques. She looked out her window that overlooked the Arno River.
    Sara sat on the bed and took the invitation from her purse. She had four hours before Julia’s opening. She had cut it close. Would Julia be happy to see her? At that moment she didn’t really care. She set the alarm on her cell phone and lay down on the bed for a short nap. Within minutes sleep had finally claimed her.
    It was dusk when the alarm went off and her jet-lagged body felt heavy when she rose. She showered and dressed in a simple black dress with a lightweight taupe shawl covering her shoulders, meant to hide the contours of her chest. Reconstructive surgery would have to wait until she returned, but for now she had pulled off looking halfway elegant.
    Sara had the hotel call a cab and gave the driver the address on the invitation. This driver seemed in less of a hurry and Sara relaxed in the back seat. Florence was beautiful at night. Lights lit up large fountains in nearly every square. Balcony after balcony was filled with flowers and light.
    The taxi arrived at the small gallery and she paid the driver and got out. For several seconds she stood outside taking a series of deep breathes, an exercise she taught her drama students to overcome stage fright. The gallery was crowded with people smiling and laughing and speaking a language Sara could not even begin to understand. The scene took on a surreal quality, considering that the day before she had been mopping floors, doing the laundry and sorting Grady’s boxer shorts. She had wanted to leave the house in pristine condition in the event that her plane went down and she didn’t return. It was her version of a mother’s warning to wear clean underwear in the event of an accident.
    Thinking of home made Sara’s new-found courage falter. She turned to look for the cab that had dropped her off. But the narrow street was empty. She peered through the window to try to catch a glimpse of Julia. A tall man, impeccably dressed, gestured for her to come inside. Sara smiled awkwardly and stepped into the gallery. He handed her a glass of wine from a nearby tray and said something to her in Italian.
    She thanked him.
    “Oh, you’re