After a restless night wondering about Tall, Fair & Handsome, I decided that sleep was never going to happen. My mind was too busy racing in all directions. At 5:30 a.m., I took a shower and decided to go for an early morning run to clear my head and overactive imagination.
The summer is probably not the best time to visit Firenze. The afternoon heat can beat up the most hardy of travelers. Not even a gladiator could withstand the triple digit temperatures. But before the sun has a chance to release its warmth, the early morning and evenings are temperate and a beautiful time of day and night to explore- or in my case run- around Florence, unleashing my stress. Imagine me, stressed in Firenze. Who’s stressed on vacation? Talk about crazy. But, here I was. Sleepless in Florence about to jog around the town instead of getting my beauty rest.
In the distance I saw a man leaning over the Ponte Vecchio. I looked around. We were the only people out so early. I felt a little vulnerable being alone. So, I stopped and watched him from afar.
He looked over his shoulders, right, left, right and then at the Arno River in front of him. It was TFH, I was certain. What was he doing out so early? I walked toward him but stopped abruptly when he poured a powdery substance from a box into the Arno River.
Oh, my God! Cocaine? What if he’s a drug dealer getting rid of the evidence in the early morning while everyone was still asleep?
Quietly, I turned around to make a quick get-away.
Too late. He called out, “Heidi?”
“What are you doing out here so early? And what was that in the box?” My voice was far more accusatory than questioning.
He sniffled, rubbing his red nose. “I told you I had unfinished business.”
“Yes, I can see that. No wonder you couldn’t tell me why you were in Florence. A drug deal gone bad?”
“What are you talking about?”
He walked closer to me. My heart beat quickly. I began to run.
“I can explain if you’d stop running.”
“Really?” I said, stopping dead in my tracks. “Then why were you tossing powder into the Arno River at 5:45 in the morning if it wasn’t to get rid of drugs.”
“You thought cocaine was in this box?”
“Well, yes. Maybe.”
“You’ve got to stop writing murder mysteries. Your imagination is out of control. You need to have a little faith in men.”
“What are you saying? I should write a romance novel next?”
“Yes. Far less dramatic but much more beautiful.”
“So what are you doing here so early in the morning dumping a powdery substance into the Arno?”
“If you’ll still allow me to take you for dinner, I’ll explain it all to you tonight.”
“Maybe you should be the one writing mysteries. You've certainly left me with one too many cliff hangers since we met...and now you're doing it again!"
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