scrunched her nose at the unwelcome reminder while Callie searched their friend’s face. “Which way are you leaning? Yea or nay?”
Sighing, Kate unclipped her hair and raked a hand through the sun-streaked blond spirals. She kept intending to get the shoulder-length curls cut, maybe have them tamed into a sleek bob. Another manifestation of the new Kate Westbrook, like the tailored suits she’d invested in for her move to the World Bank and the two-bedroom condo she’d rented in DC.
“I keep swinging back and forth,” she admitted. “My head says it would be a monumental mistake. If I think of it in terms of a return on investment, I can’t see how a few days together will alter the long-term viability of our marriage. Not unless we introduce some new variables into the equation.”
“Forget equations and investment returns,” Callie urged. “Don’t think like a banker. Think like a wife who has to decide whether she wants to give her husband one last chance. It’s that simple.”
“No, it isn’t! You and Dawn figure into the equation, too. I can’t desert you at the very start of our vacation.”
“Sure you can. Granted, it won’t be anywhere near as much fun without you. I suspect we’ll manage to keep ourselves entertained, though.”
“But I planned our itinerary in such detail.” Of all the iterations of this trip Kate had devised over the years, this was the most elaborate. “I’ve laid out all the train schedules, subway maps, museum hours, hotel locations.”
“Dawn and I are big girls. We can get ourselves from point A to point B. Can’t we?”
“I guess.”
With that reluctant concession, Dawn shoved off the sofa and skirted a coffee table topped with what seemed like an acre of black marble to plop down beside Kate. Tucking one leg under her, she reached for Kate’s hand and threaded their fingers.
“Much as I hate to admit it, Callie’s right. Rambling around Italy won’t be nearly as much fun without you. But she’ll get us where we need to go, and I’ll do my damnedest to hook us up with a couple of studly Fabios. So don’t factor us into your equation. All you have to do is decide whether you want to give Travis another chance to break your heart.”
“Oh, well, when you put it that way...”
“Dawn, for heaven’s sake!”
With an exasperated laugh, Callie joined them on the sofa. Wiggling her bottom, she wedged in on Kate’s other side and grasped her free hand.
They’d huddled together like this so many times as young girls to watch TV or giggle over the silliness of boys. As teens, to whisper secrets and weave dreams. As women, to share their joys and heartaches. More heartache in the past few years, it seemed, than joy.
“It sounds to me as though your head and your heart are pulling you in opposite directions,” Callie said quietly. “So my advice, girlfriend, is to go with your gut.”
* * *
When the three women went down to dinner, Travis was seated at a table in the Cavalieri’s gorgeously landscaped outdoor restaurant. Hurricane lamps flickered, the tables were draped in snowy linen and tall-stemmed crystal goblets gleamed. The floodlit dome of St. Peter’s Basilica looming against a star-studded sky a mile or so away took the setting out of the realm of sophisticated and straight into magical.
Kate suspected her husband would have preferred she deliver her answer to his outrageous proposal in private. Callie and Dawn had made no attempt to conceal their animosity at the Trevi Fountain, and Travis had to know they would be even less thrilled over the possibility Kate might abandon them. No special ops pilot would ever turn tail and run in the face of the enemy, however. Whatever her decision, he would take his licks.
Pushing his chair back, he rose as a hostess escorted the three women to the table. He’d topped his jeans and blue Oxford shirt with the gray suede sport coat that Kate knew packed easily and wore well. All he needed was a salon tan and a leather shoulder satchel slung over the back of his chair to fit right in with the casually sophisticated European males in the restaurant.
Kate, too, had dressed for the occasion in the caramel-colored slacks and matching hip-length jacket she’d bought especially for this trip. Made of a slinky, packable knit, the outfit could be dressed up with the black silk camisole she now wore or down with a cotton tank and chunky wooden necklace. The appreciative gleam in her husband’s eyes as he seated her said he approved of her new purchase.
No surprise there, she thought ruefully as he and the hostess seated Callie and Dawn. Travis had pretty much approved of anything and everything Kate pulled on, from cutoffs and baggy T-shirts to tailored business suits to the strapless, backless gown in screaming red she’d bought for one of their formal military functions. He’d approved of that sinful creation even more, she remembered with a jolt low in her belly, when he’d discovered how easy it was to remove.
Oh, God! Burying her suddenly tight fists in her lap, she was asking herself for the twentieth time if she really wanted to put them both through all the hurt again when Travis reclaimed his seat.
“Almost like old times,” he said with a cautious smile.
“Which times?” Dawn oozed honey-coated acid. “Before or after you got up close and cuddly with your little captain?”
Callie winced. Kate’s nails dug deeper into her palms. Travis folded his elbows on the table and took the knife thrust head-on.
“Okay, I know Kate shared that Facebook business with you two. I’m sure she also shared my pathetic defense. I’ll state it once more, for the record. And only once.”
His eyes as hard and flat as agates, he held Dawn’s glare.
“I did spend time with Captain Chamberlain talking goals and career paths. More than I should have, obviously. I did not, however, touch, kiss or otherwise indicate I wanted to have sex with her. Nor did I have any idea she’d posted those pictures of me sweaty and stripped to the waist.”
Fairness compelled Kate to intervene before blood was spilled. “They were taken during a volleyball match between aircrews. Travis sent me the uncropped versions later, after...”
She lifted a hand, let it drop. No need to bring all the ugliness into this starlit night. She’d got past it. Mostly.
“After the crap hit the fan,” he finished when she didn’t. “Now do you think you can sheathe your claws long enough for us to have dinner, Dawn?”
“I can try. But I’m not making any promises.”
Surprisingly, the snarky reply took some of the stiffness out of his shoulders.
“Actually,” he said gruffly, “I asked Kate to let me buy the three of you dinner for a specific purpose. I want to thank you, Dawn. And you, Callie. You stood shoulder to shoulder with her all these months. I’m more grateful than I can say she had you to turn to.”
Dawn blinked, and even Callie was surprised into a semithaw. “It hasn’t been easy for you, either,” she replied. “We know that. And we want you to know we’re good with whatever Kate’s decided to do for the rest of her stay in Italy.”
“Yeah, well, I want to talk about that, too.”
Their server arrived at that point to take their drink orders. The women opted for the Italian classic Bellini, Travis for a scotch rocks. He waited for the server to retreat before laying his cards on the table.
“I know I’m putting a major dent in your plans by asking Kate to spend this time with me. I’d like to make up for it by proposing an alternative to your itinerary, too.”
Kate had to bite back an instinctive protest. All her work, all the timetables and reservations and prepaid museum passes stored in her iPhone, appeared to be going up in a puff of smoke right before her eyes.
“As Kate may have mentioned, I’m on temporary assignment to the