“That would be an irony, wouldn’t it?” Olivia laughed sadly. “Greer was the one who didn’t want us to marry for fear it would get in the way of our making money.”
“Yup. Now’s she’s got a fantastic husband and doesn’t have to earn her own living.”
“Yup. And my paperweight idea went down the tubes to the tune of one hundred eighty dollars.”
“Hey—you didn’t know those rocks were volcanic ash.”
“Luc did.”
“Forget him. If we make it to France, we’ll go to that quarry Victor Hugo wrote about in Les Miserables. You know, the place where Jean Valjean was a prisoner. We’ll take a bunch of rocks home from there and polish them into beads. You can sell those over the Internet. All isn’t lost yet!”
“You’re being very sweet, Piper, but I’m pretty sure that place doesn’t exist, either. I think we’d better head for the hotel.”
Piper drew a long-stemmed rose peeking out from Luigio’s wing. He was hiding it from Violetta, and would give it to her later. Olivia thought it the perfect touch. Then her sister closed her sketchpad and stood up. “Let’s go.”
The hotel was only a five-minute walk from the entrance. “Don’t be nervous,” Olivia reminded her.
“I’m not nervous.”
“Yes, you are. You’re practically mowing all the tourists down.”
Before long they entered the luxury hotel and looked around the Moorish-styled foyer for Signore Tozetti.
“I don’t see him.”
“Neither do I.”
“Maybe he’s in the bar.”
“In that case he would have told someone at the front desk. Let’s find out.”
“Oh, yes,” the man said. “We’ve been calling your names. Signore Tozetti has met with a minor accident and won’t be able to join you until tomorrow morning at our sister hotel in Malaga.”
Her eyes swerved to Piper’s. Malaga wasn’t that far from the Pastrana villa in Marbella, a fact both of them were agonizingly aware of. The very mention of it brought back bittersweet memories of Olivia’s disastrous trips with Luc.
There’d been so many stops and starts without ever once making it all the
way to the Spanish Riviera. In her dreams he was supposed to have ended up proposing to her. The pain was almost more than she could bear.
“He’s very sorry for the inconvenience and has arranged to have you driven there this evening by limousine. He hopes that will meet with your approval. Shall I send someone for your bags?”
The silence lengthened. Piper, who was as disappointed as Olivia that their meeting had been postponed, finally had the presence of mind to say yes.
Within ten minutes they walked through the arcaded entry to the portico. A uniformed chauffeur helped them into the most luxurious black limousine Olivia had ever seen. Smoked glass windows. All shiny mahogany and leather on the inside.
The closed partition between the occupants and driver guaranteed total privacy. You could lie down on the seats and still have wiggle room for your feet.
“Have you ever seen such an elegant limousine?” Piper commented after it pulled into traffic.
“No. It must be a Spanish design.”
“The world’s best kept secret. We could use limos like this in New York. I wonder why we haven’t seen any?”
Olivia leaned her head back against the plush seat. “I’ll give you one guess.”
“You’re right. This thing probably costs close to a half a million dollars.”
“Probably more.”