Bari, Italy
Day One
Ignoring the catcalls from the young men zipping by on Vespa motorbikes, Angie Stryker entered the dark Italian pub, pushed by an icy wind at her back. Sea wind always felt colder. She shivered in her expensive black down jacket, adjusted her silk scarf, and turned to her two friends. “I thought Italy was supposed to be warm.”
“Me, too,” Zoe said. “Let’s get a drink and warm up.”
“Pronto!” Reno said playfully.
As her friends headed to the bar, Angie worked on getting the kids situated at a nearby booth with coloring books, grateful there was no age limit at watering holes in Italy. Reno had brought her daughter, Layla, and Angie’s four-year-old daughter, Harper, was there as well. Harper had been quiet the last year and Angie had hoped this vacation would help br
