Page 63 of Away We Go

“They’re going to think you’re a diva.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “There’s a first time for everything.”

My stomach does a full gymnastics routine, watching his face light up with laughter. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He pours me a cup of coffee and sits across from me. “Do you feel up to going for a walk after you eat?”

I really don’t think I have the energy for it. So…I lie. “Yes, I think some fresh air will be nice. If we’re careful to not be seen too close together, it should be fine. Right?”

The gossip sites have gotten nothing from us this weekend, purely because I’ve been too busy dying in my room to cause any trouble.

His head tilts and I know he’s checking out my blushing cheeks. “It should be fine. But are you sure you’re feeling up for it?”

I’m saved from lying again by another knock on the door. “My vegemite!”

He answers the door and I watch him tip whoever is on the other side, before turning back to deliver me the jar and toast with a small bow.

“You’re my hero.” I applaud this display of gallantry.

“I aim to please.”

My whole body flushes, and I force myself to focus on the task at hand. Spread the vegemite on the toast, eat the toast, and try not to launch yourself at the man seated across from you.

Each one of these tasks seems insurmountable.

“No more, Nicky,” I groan after he tries to force-feed me another slice of toast. I’ve already eaten two; I can’t eat another bite.

“Fine,” he relents. “We’ll save the fruit for later.”

I finish my last sip of coffee and sit back to assess how I’m feeling. Pretty good.

Huh. Vegemite really does cure all.

“Let’s go out.”

His forehead wrinkles and even though he’d suggested we go for a walk, now he looks hesitant.

“Are you sure it won’t be too much?”

I ignore him, standing to put my sneakers on. “Nicky, this is my first time in Italy and all I’ve seen is the racetrack and the inside of this room. I want to go out.”

He looks torn, so I deploy my weapon. I smile at him, dimple and all. “Please?”

His eyes narrow as he stares at my cheeks. “I know what you’re doing.”

I go in for the kill and flutter my eyelashes at him. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” he grumbles.

I laugh and smother a cough. If he hears that, I’ll be room-bound for the rest of the day.

“Let’s go.”

He pulls a cap out of his backpack and jams it on his head.

“Is that your disguise?” I’ve noticed him do this when we’ve been out in public together. It’s like his Superman/Clark Kent disguise.

“Yes. After Miami, we need to be careful.” He completes the look by putting on his sunglasses, then he guides me into the lift to take us down to the lobby. “Though, usually it’s not too bad here. The people are used to us taking over their town for one week every year. And they’re always respectful of giving us our space. Nevertheless, it’s easier to wear these things and keep away from the crowds.”

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