The Italian Cure by Melodie Campbell

The Italian Cure by Melodie Campbell

Author:Melodie Campbell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459821149
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2019-11-01T00:00:00+00:00


Nine

I was right about that. When we’d settled into our rooms, Bunny came bouncing through the door with something draped over her arm.

“This dress is a bit snug. You’re smaller than me, so it should fit you. It’s knee length on me, and it won’t matter if it’s longer on you. What do you think?”

She held up a sleek leopard-print dress with a deep V neck and bars of sequins on the shoulders. It had a sequined belt that fastened at the back. I couldn’t hold in my giggle.

“See, Della? She likes it!” Bunny held it out to me. “This will look great on you, Charlie. You’ll wow them.”

No doubt about it. If I were in the jungle, I’d wow Tarzan for sure. But I accepted it graciously and locked myself in the bathroom to try it on. One look in the bathroom mirror sent me into another fit of giggles.

“I was right!” cried Bunny when I returned. She clapped her hands. “It fits you like a dream. You can keep it, Charlie. It’s really too small for me, and I brought lots. Doesn’t she look great, Della?”

My aunt smiled, and her blue eyes twinkled. “She does indeed. Definitely not boring.”

I felt like I was playing dress-up in the wardrobe department of a movie studio. No way would I wear anything like this in real life. But this trip wasn’t real life, I reasoned. I thanked her profusely.

“Whoops, I better get going,” said Bunny, looking at her sparkly watch. “I need to do something with my hair and get dressed. See you downstairs at eight.”

People in Italy ate dinner late. We were meeting for drinks first, but dinner wouldn’t be until nine, I knew. I just hoped I’d make it through the meal without food ending up on me.

Tony wouldn’t be there. He never joined us for meals. Bus drivers didn’t, I was told. The company wouldn’t pay for it. But as our tour guide, Rocco always had dinner with us. I wondered what he would think of my dress.

I looked around the room for a mirror. There was a long one behind the door. I took a quick look at myself. A little lipstick and mascara was all I really needed. The sun had given my face some nice color.

Then I walked over to the bed closest to the door. This room was a more modern copy of our first one back in Rome. Maybe a few feet longer, with sliding glass doors leading to a small balcony. I loved the color scheme of soft yellow and blue. These weren’t the bright colors of Aunt Del’s wardrobe. It was like they had been left out in the Italian sun and had faded to something cozy.

I sat on the bed and slipped on my sandals.

“What do you think…purple or orange?” Aunt Del had two dresses laid out on her bed.

“Purple,” I said firmly. “It looks great with your dark hair.”

“Are you sure? It’s a little dull.” She frowned at it.

Dull? The purple dress had a flouncy, tiered skirt.



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