Apricot Kisses Read Online Free PDF Page A

your error. And then you will make Signor Camini drop this absurd suit, even if you have to kneel in front of his stable door to do it. I know it’s humiliating, repenting publicly and eating humble pie, so I’ll put in a good word for you with the board of directors.” As Hellwig turns away to grab his jacket, I act with lightning speed.
    The vase is not only ugly, but heavy to boot. Fortunately it fits into my handbag. My trembling stills at once and I exhale in relief. The accordion in my chest relaxes. Hellwig leafs through his money clip and then gives me a noncommittal smile. “I’ve got to go. I am sure you’ll find a solution that satisfies everyone.” He hands me twenty euros. “Please pay for my tea—and order a piece of cake for yourself. I hear that carbohydrates do wonders for stress.”
    I take the money, smile thinly, and stop myself from saying anything snarky. “Have fun in Vienna,” I say instead, without meaning it. To my surprise, Hellwig winks at me, taps his forehead, and turns away without a word. He navigates through the throng of people and finally disappears.
    The chubby server doesn’t look at me while telling what I owe and handing me my change. Instead she stares at the man at the neighboring table. I completely forgot about him, since Hellwig had blocked my view.
    The Italian is sitting there with his eyes closed, facing the window. Earphones wrap around his head. He’s good looking, I notice absentmindedly. He has dark, wavy hair run through with copper brown, and distinct features. His lashes are so long that they throw shadows under his eyes. I don’t know if it’s because he’s tapping his feet to the beat under the table or because he’s smiling—which makes dimples in his unshaven face—but the man moves me. Mostly I’m just envious that he seems so relaxed. In his sound cocoon, there’s probably nothing that could upset him.
    I straighten and pick up my handbag, which is much heavier than before. Passing a mirrored wall on my way out, I automatically glance at myself. I was definitely taller when I came in.
     
    Fabrizio
     
    My mood has improved by the time I get to airport security. Zucchero’s boozy voice gave me half an hour of escape from my worries and that waitress, and I can think clearly again.
    As I expected, the metal detector peeps when I walk through. Compared to Italy’s, German airport security is top-notch. That’s what I get for not removing my cross necklace. The security official points to the bench for sinners behind a folding screen. I’m rolling my eyes.
    “Shoes,” the uniformed guard tells me.
    Yes, I do have some.
    “Take off your shoes!”
    I give him a confused look. I’ve loved driving German guardians of the law up the wall since my student days. The official points to my wingtips. I bend down to fumble with the shoelaces. “Make two knots, child,” Nonna always told me. “That way you’ll never end up running around with untied laces.” The first shoe clatters to the floor. Nonna really had the right advice for every situation.
    Suddenly I freeze.
    I stare at my hands, the untied second shoelace, and then the official’s legs. He jiggles his foot impatiently. My gaze drops back to my feet. My left sock has a hole in the big toe.
    Holy shit!
    I see that my briefcase has already gone through the baggage scanner. Another uniformed officer approaches me with some official-looking papers in his hands.
    “Herr Camini? You’re transporting some special luggage?”
    Nonna! I jump up and push my shoes into the surprised officer’s hands. “I’ll be right back.”
    With that, I race past passport control in my socks and, followed by astonished looks and giggles, whiz out of the security area.

Chapter Two
    Hanna
    For the first time since I joined the magazine two years ago, I take the staircase. When I get to the top, I realize why I’ve always preferred the elevator. There are one hundred and twelve steps. Panting, I’m standing