Page 90 of Italy Can Bite Me

She forks over the money for the scarf, and the vendor grins from ear to ear as we walk away.

“You were supposed to haggle.”

“Me no haggle-ah. I’m-ah happy with the scarf-ah.” She wraps the scarf around her neck with a flourish. “How do I look?”

Like everything I never knew I wanted.

“Like someone who should stick to English.”

She smacks my arm, but she’s grinning.

“When it comes to my native tongue, bella, it’s best if you just lie back and let me do it.”

I steer us toward a small shop with a glowing green cross above the door.

She eyes the sign warily. “Is this… a pharmacy or a weed dispensary?”

“Farmacia,” I say, pulling the door open for her. “Time for your next lesson.”

She crosses her arms, leveling me with a suspicious glare. “You’re up to something.”

“I am but a humble tour guide,” I say, my tone the picture of innocence.

“That face,” she mutters as we step inside. “That’s your scheming face.”

“It’s also my incredibly handsome face. Very versatile.”

An elderly pharmacist greets us from behind the counter, his smile warm and welcoming. Katie immediately relaxes.Amateur move.

I whisper a phrase in her ear.

“Okay, here we go.” Katie straightens her spine and repeats the phrase(sort of).

The pharmacist’s eyebrows rocket skyward, nearly launching off his face.

“Nailed it, right?” She beams. “My accent was perfect. I’ll have to show Aunt Deb my new skills.”

“Very memorable,” I say, struggling to keep a straight face as the man returns with an overflowing armful of boxes. Box after box of condoms spill onto the counter like an avalanche.

Katie’s eyes go wide. “What did you make me say?”

I grin, unable to hold it in any longer. “You said. Excuse me. I am a sex addict from America. I need condoms. Lots and lots of condoms. I want to sample as many Italian men as possible.”

The pharmacist winks at her, and I lose it.

I laugh so hard I keel over on the counter. Through tears, I apologize profusely(to the man, not Katie), who laughs and waves me off like this is the highlight of his day. I buy a few boxes for his trouble. “Grazie!”

“This isNo Sex Day!” she protests as we leave.

“Tomorrow isn’t.”

“Bold of you to assume you will have access after that stunt.”

“You’re still holding my hand.”

She looks down at our joined fingers like they’ve committed treason. “That’s… that’s just because I need someone to carry all these condoms.”

“Sure it is, principessa. Sure it is.”

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