All the kind reviewers who commented on Catching Up and those who asked about a continuation... thank you for tempting me, directly and indirectly. You all know who you are; the encouragement is yours, the flaws all mine.
This one will be more like 25K words than its predecessor's 15K, and I'll post slower than I did with the first one (sorry, work and the need for research are likely to get in the way), but I do have most of the plot figured out. Don't expect smut from me; I love reading it but the degree of pleasure I get from writing it is comparable to that derived from pulling teeth. Just trust me, they do fuck like minks when they have a chance. Finally, I mentally apologise to the country of China for making my bad guys Chinese... it was sort of inevitable with what plot facts from Catching Up I had to go on as my starting point.
This one picks up at the exact point where Catching Up ends, but I like keeping that one as a complete self-contained story. Don't be fooled by the fluff quotient in this first snippet; the first two or three chapters will be the proverbial calm before you know what.
.
xxx
They sit in the middle of the road, she in the shark-like Sesto, he facing her on the Harley, a subtler menace but a more manoeuvrable one. She kills the engine; he inches closer. She takes her hand off the wheel and rests her arms on it, leaning forward, glaring at him. He pulls off the helmet, shakes his hair loose, and returns her gaze, a male version of the Mona Lisa. The tableau continues for a few seconds; she can't get past him and he is definitely not about to change that. Finally, she pulls out the key and dangles it at him. Truce.
He drives the remaining five feet up to the window.
"Wanted to get some fresh air?"
When was it that she said these words; about thirty hours ago? How many lifetimes is that?
"Admit it, you have a thing for powerful bikes."
"And you have a thing for black Lamborghinis."
"You sure you don't want to leave your bike here and join me?"
He gives up, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter under the black suede bomber jacket. "Stop it, my belly is hurting. You look good," he adds, nodding at her outfit.
"I knew you'd like it." She doesn't even know how she managed to seemingly remember his every quip from yesterday to say back to him. Then again, so did he. "What's the plan?"
"The plan, until you started this excursion, was to find a place to eat. And now we have two problems."
"Namely?" she cocks an eyebrow at him.
"First, we are in two vehicles, which is... inconvenient. Second, you are overdressed for the occasion."
"I thought you said you liked my outfit," she quips, her expression that of a petulant teen.
"I like it too much."
"Ah," she answers with a sage nod. "So that means you'll want me to change before we make a spectacle."
"Would you rather change after?"
"On second thoughts... I don't suppose you've brought any money?"
"Afraid not. I was... otherwise preoccupied."
"Fine then, I am going back to the hotel for my purse and I'll meet you back at the villa..."
"How about we go back to the villa and I pick up a wallet and..."
"I am not impressed by your millionaire attitude."
"I know you're not. That's why I am suggesting it."
She smiles in spite of herself. "Fine. On one condition."
"Namely?"
"Just for this once, we aren't racing. My reaction time is still messed up from last night."
"Don't worry, so is mine."
"And we swap. I want to try out this bike."
"That's two conditions."
"I can drop the first one."
"OK, I accept the two." He takes the keys from her, hands her the helmet and takes off the suede jacket to give her. "Don't even think of stealing this one."
"No worries. I've got one of my own. As soon as I get my suitcase."
She makes it back up the winding road at a relatively sedate 50 mph... which would be fine if he hadn't been driving all the way right in front of her. In reverse.
xxx
The girls at the downtown boutique are used to bored Swiss housewives and under-dressed, middle-aged American tourists poking morosely at the size zero racks, not daring to ask how much larger the sizes go. It is hard to tell what piques their interest more, the sight of Bruce limping regally onto the scene wearing his suede bomber again, or of her strolling in wearing men's satin pyjamas, or the way the two of them shamelessly flirt as she tries on a few dresses.
She picks one, a simple cornflower blue shift, and holds it up to him against her body, poking out of the fitting booth.
"What do you think?"
"Nice."
"Wait, I'll try it on and show you how I look in it."
"I can already see you look better out of it."
She notices that he is actually looking at the mirror behind her reflecting her stark naked back, and rolls her eyes. "Buying a dress for me doesn't mean you can get all depraved on me."
"OK, tomorrow we come back downtown and you can buy something for me. And you can be as depraved as you may wish," he says after she has disappeared behind the curtain.
"Sounds good. I think I know what I'd like you to get."
"I'm curious."
"Something... really..." She pretends to muse on the subject. "...tight."
"On second thoughts," he reflects when she gets out to face him again, "I'll probably stick to doing my own shopping. It does look good," he adds, this time actually looking at the dress.
"Great." She shuts the curtain and throws the blue shift at him from behind it. "You go and pay for it, rich boy, so we can get out of here."
xxx
"So," he starts with what sounds like practised nonchalance, "what was the real reason you took off this afternoon?"
They are sitting at another monochrome locale; this one is actually pristine white, a lakeside restaurant halfway up the western shore of Lake Como. It turns out that the one hour's drive away part can be safely cut by 50%, at least at the rate he drives.
She pretends to look at the surroundings; there is, in fact, plenty to admire. "Any guesses?"
"Obviously, something I did. No, something I said," he corrects himself, noticing the flicker on her face. "I just can't figure out what exactly it was."
"Top three?" she says in a distant voice, making big eyes at him. She decides to drop the business partner thing; it's too tempting, upon reflection.
He chuckles in what looks like relief. "That was for Theo's benefit. The guy is pretty suspicious of sales talk and bullshit in general. If I'd said the best, he'd have thought I was exaggerating. This way I knew he'd believe me."
"OK, my bad," she concedes, covering his hand with hers. "Do I take it that I'll meet this bullshit-hating sidekick of yours at some point?"
"It's an open question who the sidekick is," Bruce counters with a smirk. "He's been in the company for eight plus years, and was with the Interpol before then. The guy's pretty good, even if I say it having hired him myself by phone interview. Of course you'll meet him."
"Does he have anything against thieves?" she cocks her head at him.
He shakes his head. "Not former ones," he replies with a mock-meaningful look. "Items of clothing don't count."
xxx
They are on their way back to Lugano when she puts a hand on his arm. "You know something..."
"What?" he shoots her a wary glance before looking back at the road; a sensible precaution at 100 mph.
"I was wondering if we could find someplace nearby to go see a movie. Make it into a classic date, you know."
She can practically see his shoulders relaxing. "Everything in Lugano closes at 9 pm, that's Switzerland for you. Try the town of Como, there should be a cinema in there." She looks it up on her phone; sure enough, there is. He takes the nearest exit to double back and return to Italy. "You realise, of course, that it's going to be in Italian?"
She stretches in her seat. "Who cares... besides, I want to start studying it."
"You want to get as close to having sex in a public place as we possibly can," he replies, not fooled.
"That, too."
"Pervert."
"Says the man who wore a bat costume every night – "
"Hey, I didn't wear it to – " he slams his hands on the wheel and has to slow down because he is laughing too hard. "OK, stop with the innuendo before I crash into something."
"All right, all right." She finally stops laughing herself. "Did you hear that they're going to make a Batman tribute movie now? The Dark Hero or something?"
The reference no longer puts him on edge, but it is still remarkable how he goes from amused to subdued in the space of two seconds. "I hope it isn't utter crap. And that whatever back story they have for the Batman it has nothing to do with the truth."
"You wouldn't want to see it?"
He seems to ponder it. "Don't know. I might, but then again, I've left it all in the past and I left the city in good hands." She wants to ask him who he means but figures that it can wait. "I don't know if I want to live it all over. There's always been too much... pain... as far back as I can remember. I don't think I want to go back to that."
She is both sorry and glad that she asked. "You don't have to." She reaches over and strokes his cheek. "And even if you wanted to, I won't let you. It's too nice over here," she adds in a purposely lighter tone. "I could get used to this."
"So could I."
It sounds like he means it. She hopes he does.
.
tbc