with her glass, swirling the dark red chianti, and dug deep for a smile. “I couldn’t think of a better distraction than touring Italy with the two of them.”
“How about touring it with me?”
Her hand jerked, almost slopping wine over the edge of the glass. “What?”
“I owe you this trip, Kate. Let me make good on that debt.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Yeah, I am.”
Stunned, she shook her head. “We’re too far down the road, Trav. We can’t backtrack now.”
“True.” He leaned forward into a slanting beam of sunlight, so close and intent she could see the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. “But we can take some time to see if there’s enough left to try a different track.”
“That’s crazy. All we’ll do is open ourselves up to more hurt when we say goodbye.”
“No, Kate, we won’t. Despite Dawn’s snide comment a few minutes ago, I hold to my word.” Reaching across the table, he curled a knuckle under her chin. “When and if we say goodbye, I promise you won’t regret this time together.”
“Kate!” Dismay chased across Dawn’s expressive face. “Tell me you’re not actually going to traipse off with the man!”
“I said I’d consider it.”
“But...but...”
“I know,” Kate admitted with a grimace. “The whole idea of this trip was to help me remember there’s a big, wide world out there that doesn’t have to include Travis Westbrook.”
“Now you want to narrow it down again?”
“Maybe. For a week. Or not. I don’t know.”
The less-than-coherent reply had Dawn swiveling on the crimson brocade sofa lavishly trimmed with gold rope. It was one of two plush sofas in the sitting room of their suite at the five-star Rome Cavalieri. A member of the Waldorf chain, the hotel sat perched on fifteen acres of private parkland overlooking the Eternal City. With its elegant decor, breath-stealing view of St. Peter’s Basilica in the near distance and shuttle service to the heart of Rome, the Cavalieri provided a home base of unparalleled luxury and convenience. The stunning vista framed by the doors of their suite’s balcony was the last thing on the minds of anyone at the moment, however.
Ignoring the city lights twinkling like fireflies in the purple twilight, Dawn made an urgent appeal. “Talk to her, Callie. Remind her how many times she and Travis tried to bridge the gap. When he was home long enough to do any bridging, that is.”
“She doesn’t need reminding. She knows the count better than we do. And God knows you and I haven’t scored any better in the love-and-marriage game.”
Dawn scrunched her nose at the unwelcome reminder while Callie searched their friend’s face. “Which way are you leaning? Yea or nay?”
Sighing, Kate unclipped her hair and raked a hand through the sun-streaked blond spirals. She kept intending to get the shoulder-length curls cut, maybe have them tamed into a sleek bob. Another manifestation of the new Kate Westbrook, like the tailored suits she’d invested in for her move to the World Bank and the two-bedroom condo she’d rented in DC.
“I keep swinging back and forth,” she admitted. “My head says it would be a monumental mistake. If I think of it in terms of a return on investment, I can’t see how a few days together will alter the long-term viability of our marriage. Not unless we introduce some new variables into the equation.”
“Forget equations and investment returns,” Callie urged. “Don’t think like a banker. Think like a wife who has to decide whether she wants to give her husband one last chance. It’s that simple.”
“No, it isn’t! You and Dawn figure into the equation, too. I can’t desert you at the very start of our vacation.”
“Sure you can. Granted, it won’t be anywhere near as much fun without you. I suspect we’ll manage to keep ourselves entertained, though.”
“But I planned our itinerary in such detail.” Of all the iterations of this trip Kate had devised over the years, this was the most elaborate. “I’ve laid out all the train schedules, subway maps, museum hours, hotel locations.”
“Dawn and I are big girls. We can get ourselves from point A to point B. Can’t we?”
“I guess.”
With that reluctant concession, Dawn shoved off the sofa and skirted a coffee table topped with what seemed like an acre of black marble to plop down beside Kate. Tucking one leg under her, she reached for Kate’s hand and threaded their fingers.
“Much as I hate to admit it, Callie’s right. Rambling around Italy won’t be nearly as much fun without you. But she’ll get us where we need to go, and I’ll do my damnedest to hook us up with a couple of studly Fabios. So don’t factor us into your equation. All you have to do is decide whether you want to give Travis another chance to break your heart.”
“Oh, well, when you put it that way...”
“Dawn, for heaven’s sake!”
With an exasperated laugh, Callie joined them on the sofa. Wiggling her bottom, she wedged in on Kate’s other side and grasped her free hand.
They’d huddled together like this so many times as young girls to watch TV or giggle over the silliness of boys. As teens, to whisper secrets and weave dreams. As women, to share their joys and heartaches. More heartache in the past few years, it seemed, than joy.
“It sounds to me as though your head and your heart are pulling you in opposite directions,” Callie said quietly. “So my advice, girlfriend, is to go with your gut.”
* * *
When the three women went down to dinner, Travis was seated at a table in the Cavalieri’s gorgeously landscaped outdoor restaurant. Hurricane lamps flickered, the tables were draped in snowy linen and tall-stemmed crystal goblets gleamed. The floodlit dome of St. Peter’s Basilica looming against a star-studded sky a mile or so away took the setting out of the realm of sophisticated and straight into magical.
Kate suspected her husband would have preferred she deliver her answer to his outrageous proposal in private. Callie and Dawn had made no attempt to conceal their animosity at the Trevi Fountain, and Travis had to know they would be even less thrilled over the possibility Kate might abandon them. No special ops pilot would ever turn tail and run in the face of the enemy, however. Whatever her decision, he would take his licks.
Pushing his chair back, he rose as a hostess escorted the three women to the table. He’d topped his jeans and blue Oxford shirt with the gray suede sport coat that Kate knew packed easily and wore well. All he needed was a salon tan and a leather shoulder satchel slung over the back of his chair to fit right in with the casually sophisticated European males in the restaurant.
Kate, too, had
