Page 121 of Wicked

I’m about to discuss a vineyard tour with the next group of horse riders when Dante charges towards me on his large horse.

As he pulls his horse to a stop, inches from me, he tosses me his iPad.

“Explain!”

Stunned, I start to read an article online.

It’s from the travel publication I work for; they had run with the damning story. The thing is, they’ve made up a title I’d not written. “Italy. Old. Crumbling. Gone.”

It was the first draft I’d written in Italy weeks ago, and it gets worse. My name is on it, and they’ve even added more nasty detail.

“Shit!” I say, my mouth now open.

It’s horrific timing because photographers and a video team are racing up from the vans outside the castle. As they point cameras at Dante and my now-pained face, I gasp.

“I can explain!” I say, facing a furious Dante.

“Really?” Dante says, far from unimpressed and way out of character.

How to say it fast?

And what to say?

“I… I…” I stutter, unsure what to do.

As the cameras head closer, and my life is about to end, Bianca rides over fast. She must be learning about this cluster fuck in real time,like me.

Dante holds up his phone, and he looks like he wants to kill.

“That article came out two hours ago, and with your name attached! Your fucking name! Three articles connecting you to us are now spreading like wildfire throughout Italy. We’ve had seventy percent cancellations. Seventy percent in the last hour!”

My mouth drops open as cameras, feet from Dante and I, roll, capturing it all.

Behind the camera vans, an Italian sports car slides in the gravel and a woman runs up. It’s the overbred blue blood from the wedding, and she runs past the cameras in an over-the-top outfit.

As she hugs Dante’s long black boot, she glances up at him. “I came as fast as I could for you.”

Dante’s sister and I shake our heads. Dear God!

I toss Dante the iPad, and I give Bianca a look. As angry Italian reporters leap in, all talking at once, I vault onto Olive.

Spinning, I charge away with a confused Tito barking and following.

I hear a horse behind me, and I see Dante swing and try to chargeafter me. As cameras roll and capture everything, I know my life is about to end.

Dante is lightning fast, and he tries to cut me off near the castle front and news vans.

“Hey! We need to talk!”

I weave past him, and at the castle front, I leap down and run in. With Tito at my heels, I streak up the marble stairs and straight into our room. As I pack fast, Tito watches, confused. My vision is blurred, and tears fall fast.

I’m halfway done when Dante storms in. He grabs my arm roughly. “What the hell are you doing?”

I wipe tears away, and I have to run. “What does it look like?

“How could you do that? After what we built? What the hell have you done?” Dante asks, eyes angry. Fierce andso unlike him.

“You don’t understand!” I try to say. “It’s not what?—”

---