What Happens in Italy

Chapter 3

Penny plopped down onto a chair at an empty table the following day. She'd explored the town for a few hours but her growling stomach and pinching knee urged her to take a break. She was tempted to pull another chair over to stretch out her leg but refrained. She ordered a panini with a large side of gelato—Italy was experiencing a heat wave, after all—and opened her heavily flagged guidebook, methodically removing the flags from the places she'd already visited. By the end of her trip, all the flags would be gone.

It was good to have goals.

"Penny?" a voice said over her shoulder. She turned, trying to ignore the tiny flutter in her chest.

"Ethan?" she asked, hoping she sounded nonchalant.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, stopping in front of her table.

"Siena is small. Unless you're following me?" Was she flirting? She took a sip of water, hoping to distract her mouth from saying anything else.

He laughed. "Of course not. Just exploring the town. Siena is small, you know."

"Apparently," she mumbled, flipping to the next flagged page in her book.

"Mind if I sit?" He gestured at the empty chair. She should've put her leg up when she had the chance.

"Umm. I guess," she replied as the waiter dropped off her food.

"Ti va qualcosa?" the waiter asked Ethan. Ethan placed his order and the waiter left. He spoke Italian? That was hot. She internally shook her head. No. No, it wasn't hot. He wasn't hot.

He grinned. "Gelato for lunch?"

"It's a heat wave, and my grandfather was a firm believer in the uncertainty of life and eating dessert first," she said as she shoved a large spoonful in her mouth. Shit. It was cold. Her brain tingled—and for once it had nothing to do with his damn smile.

"I think my grandmother had that on a t-shirt," he said.

She laughed. "That was my grandfather's Friday shirt." She missed him. He would've loved eating gelato for every meal. He'd been her favorite family member, and in the two years since he'd passed she hadn't been able to look at a Snickerdoodle cookie.

"Grandparents are the best. They make parents bearable," Ethan said. There was something in his expression and she wanted to ask, but it was too personal. They were basically strangers, so she nodded her head and went back to her book.

"It looks like the flags are diminishing," he observed, gesturing to her book.

"Yep. After I see something, I remove the flag. It gives me a sense of accomplishment." Her cheeks heated. She sounded like a total nerd.

"I guess that's one way to look at it," he said. "So, what sights did you see today?"

"I toured Monte dei Paschi."

"Is that a museum?"

"Sort of. It's the oldest surviving bank in the world. Almost five hundred years old and it's still in business. They're starting a bank museum so I got to see the old ledgers, bank notes, and coins spanning the last five centuries. Can you imagine the ups and downs they've faced over time and they're still functioning?" Jesus, she really was a nerd. She needed to stop rambling.

"That's interesting," he said. At least his eyes hadn't completely glazed over.

She grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I like numbers. They have art, too."