I return the broken shoe and reach in my bag for my bottle of water. It’s not cold, but it’s wet. A hand is placed on my shoulder. It’s Michael’s. I love his hands. Strong and rough, not smooth like mine. “Everything okay?” He hands me some kind of drink. It’s cold, I don’t care what it is.
“Yeah,” I gulp down half the drink in seconds “Liz went off with a guy, but she’s going to meet us back at the hotel.”
“Was that smart?”
“She’ll call us.” She needed to get out anyway. She’s been the third wheel most of this vacation. Kevin dumped her just days before we left for Italy. And as if Michael read my mind…
“Good,” he pauses and smiles, “You want to head off by ourselves, too?” I nod and smile back.
He takes my hand in his, we both finish our drinks and head out of the club. I’m shoeless, but I feel ten feet tall anyway.