Chapter 2

“I go to parties, sometimes until four.

It’s hard to leave when you can’t find the door.

It’s tough to handle this fortune and fame.

Everybody’s so different, I haven’t changed.”

-Joe Walsh, “Life’s Been Good”

La Contessa’s Eurocopter EC 155 was powered up and waiting on the helipad when she emerged from the castle. Unbowed by the winds pushing down and back from the circling blades, she climbed the little steps into the vehicle and strapped in. The pilot confirmed that she was secure and took off away from the setting Sun and toward the darkening San Finzione City skyline.

The helicopter easily made its way through the few tall office buildings that comprised the city center. The pilot brought it to a hover over the end of a city park and pointed at the 300-year-old church visible several blocks away.

“Is edge of the No Fly Zone, Contessa,” the pilot shouted over his shoulder. “As close as I can take you.”

Helen clicked her tongue in irritation and picked up the night-vision binoculars. What was the point of diplomatic immunity if you couldn’t use it to spy on your ex-lovers?

“Then take us lower,” she said as she looked past the park below to the entrance of St. Francis de Sales Cathedral. First Evening Mass had ended and the faces coming out of the cathedral were too distant to make out clearly, but she spotted the big white sun hat and gaudy red glasses that Julie was wearing in the pictures the detective had sent her from when they left the hotel. And with that to look for, it made it easier to find Troy.

The police officers that had been following the two hadn’t had much to report. They’d gone to the usual tourist stops: one of the ancient ruins, a couple of shops, and some pictures at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier; and now they were attending Mass?

Helen had needed to see it herself. There was no way they’d become church-goers in the last three weeks. She could see Troy going to church for some special occasion; but why would he when he had Heaven right there between Julie’s legs?

And yet, there they were, chatting away with the priest by the front door. She had no idea what they were saying, but from the look of them, if they’d been back in the states, they might be talking about volunteering for the church picnic. Julie would make her famous potato salad and maybe Troy and Pastor Bob could fire up the grill and toss the ol’ pigskin around. Was this their scheme for revenge? Becoming boring on her?

Well, Troy looked like it, anyway. Julie had a “Hi, I’m Sophia Loren on vacation in Europe in 1965 and trying not to be noticed but failing badly because I’m fucking 1960s Sophia Loren” look going on.

Helen avoided church except on holidays where La Contessa was expected to make an appearance and on the anniversary of the Count’s death. She knew black and emerald was a good look for her, and it was always so nice to see how the other side of the family was getting along. After the Count died, there’d been all manner of yelling and squabbling and demanding inheritances. She was looking at years of litigation, and the family had laughed when she showed up to the meeting with them and their lawyers without bringing one of her own.

The meeting had taken an hour, and by the end of it, everyone was satisfied that the Count had truly wished to leave everything to his beloved Contessa, that the relatives would be content to live with the trust funds the Count had set up for them years before the marriage, and that the fortune and title were safe in New Great-Grandmamma Helena’s hands.

The lawyers obligingly drew up the paperwork for free, and everyone was happy. Even the silverware and heirlooms that had disappeared immediately after the Count’s death were returned to her, and if any of the family had issues with the way things are now, an overnight visit to Great-Grandmamma’s castle always helped them see reason.

Helen realized she’d let her mind drift and hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on through the binoculars. Troy and the priest were now looking straight at the helicopter and pointing at it. Troy motioned for Julie to come over. Helen couldn’t read his lips, but was sure he was saying something like “Hey, honey, come take a look at this.” She came up between the two men and looked Helen’s direction as if she’d just noticed the emerald green 8-passenger helicopter with the San Finzione family crest painted on it that’d been hovering over a city street a few blocks ahead of them for a good ten minutes now, then took a disposable camera out of her purse and snapped a picture.

Helen laughed as they continued doing their gawky American tourist act. She bounced up and down in her seat and clapped her hands with glee. They’d drawn her out. A total sucker play and she fell for it. They thought she might be having them watched, and doing something this out-of-character for both of them was enough to lure her out into the open to see for herself. And now she’d been sitting here hovering in a helicopter for several minutes, probably disrupting traffic down below, staring at them like a stalker several hundred feet above the ground.

Oh, that couldn’t be their whole plan, but it forced her into a position where there were only two moves she could make: She could land and get out and walk the length of the park to welcome them with open arms, but that was not the kind of spectacle she preferred to make. If she’d taken the limo, she could have driven right up to the church and gotten out and welcomed them, but she’d wanted to get there quickly, so she’d chosen the quickest, but also most conspicuous method of travel at her disposal, and it was hard to make an entrance after walking several blocks in an evening gown and heels.

The other option was to turn the helicopter around and go home, not directly, though, or it would seem she was running like a peeping tom who’d been caught. They’d put her into a situation with no graceful exit. Unless ... Helen leaned forward into the cockpit and pointed at the pilot.

“Once around the city, then home.”

They waved to the helicopter as it began moving. Troy shook the priest’s hand and thanked him again for the uplifting service before putting an arm around his lovely companion and walking away.

“That was amusing,” she said to him as they walked.

“We spoiled Helen’s entrance. She won’t be back tonight. So, hit the taverna next?”

“I’d rather go back to the hotel, but sure, I could use a victory drink after that.”

The streetlights came on as they walked towards the park to find a taxi stand.

La Contessa didn’t wait for the rotors to stop spinning before getting out and quickly walking back into the castle. Maria was waiting by the door for her.

“La Contessa is alone tonight?” She asked as Helena walked past her without answering. Maria dutifully followed her through the castle. The Countess kicked off her heels and slid the straps of her gown off, letting it fall to the floor as they walked. Maria picked it up and followed her to the bedroom. The other servants they passed were used to seeing La Contessa walking around the castle nude and either averted their eyes or stared longingly, filing away the image until they were off duty.

When they made it to the bedroom, La Contessa flung herself onto the bed. Maria closed the door behind them and hung up the gown as Helen spread her legs. The thrill of knowing that the game was now on in earnest, even if she had conceded this first round to them, was still a turn-on, and the helicopter ride home had done nothing to diminish it. She reached down and began slowly stroking her already wet snatch.