way."
"Not far enough. I'm currently broke." She reached for her sunglasses, hoping to deflect the conversation.
"Worse things can happen than being broke," he said.
"I'm guessing you're not speaking from personal experience."
"Hey, when I was eighteen, the interest check from my trust fund was lost in the mail. It got pretty ugly."
She'd always been a sucker for self-deprecating humor, and she smiled, even though she didn't want to.
Half an hour later they reached the outskirts of Volterra, where a castle of forbidding gray stone appeared on the hill above them. Finally a safe topic of conversation. "That must be thefortezza ," she said. "The Florentines built it in the late 1400s over the original Etruscan settlement, which dated to around the eighth century B.C."
"Been reading our guidebook, have we?"
"Several of them." They passed an Esso station and a tidy little house with a satellite dish perched above its red roof tiles. "Somehow I'd pictured the Etruscans as cavemen with clubs, but this was a fairly advanced civilization. They had a lot in common with the Greeks. They were merchants, seafarers, farmers, craftsmen. They mined copper and smelted iron ore. And their women were surprisingly liberated for the time."
"Thank God for that."
There was nothing like a history lesson to keep things impersonal. She should have thought of this earlier. "As the Romans moved in, the Etruscan culture was gradually assimilated, although some people think the modern Tuscan lifestyle is more a reflection of its Etruscan roots than its Roman ones.
"Any excuse for a party."
"Something like that." She followed the parking signs past a pretty walkway lined with benches and found a spot at the end of the lot. "They don't let cars in the city, so we have to park out here."
He spoke around a yawn. "There's a great museum in town filled with some world-class Etruscan artifacts that should strike your fancy."
"You've been here?"
"Years ago, but I still remember it. The Etruscans were one of the reasons I majored in history before I flunked out of college."
She eyed him suspiciously. "You already knew those things I was talking about, didn't you?"
"Pretty much, but it gave me a chance for a quick nap. By the way, the original Etruscan city was built around the ninth century B.C., not the eighth. But, hey, what's a hundred years here and there?"
So much for showing off her knowledge. They got out of the Panda, and she saw that one corner of his sunglasses was wrapped with tape. "Didn't you wear a disguise like this in that movie where you tried to rape Cameron Diaz?"
"I believe I was trying to murder her, not rape her."
"I don't mean to sound critical, but doesn't all that sadism get to you after a while?"
"Thank you for not being critical. And sadism has made me famous."
She followed him through the parking lot toward the sidewalk. He moved with the rolling gait of a much heavier man, another illusion from his actor's toolbox. It seemed to be working, because no one was paying any attention to him. She told herself to be quiet and leave it alone, but old habits were hard to break. "That's still important to you, isn't it?"
she said. "Despite all the inconvenience. Being famous."
"If there's a spotlight around, I generally enjoy having it pointed in my direction. And don't pretend not to know what I'm talking about."
"You think attention is what motivates me?"
"Isn't it?"
"Only as a means of getting my message across. "
"I believe you."
He clearly didn't. She looked up at him, knowing she should let it go. "Is that all you want your life to be about? Staying in the spotlight?"
"Spare me your self-improvement lectures. I'm not interested."
"I wasn't going to lecture."
"Fifi, you live to lecture. Lecturing is your oxygen."
"And that threatens you?" She followed him down the cobblestones.
"Everything about you threatens me."
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"You think I'm smug, don't you?"
"I've observed a
"Not far enough. I'm currently broke." She reached for her sunglasses, hoping to deflect the conversation.
"Worse things can happen than being broke," he said.
"I'm guessing you're not speaking from personal experience."
"Hey, when I was eighteen, the interest check from my trust fund was lost in the mail. It got pretty ugly."
She'd always been a sucker for self-deprecating humor, and she smiled, even though she didn't want to.
Half an hour later they reached the outskirts of Volterra, where a castle of forbidding gray stone appeared on the hill above them. Finally a safe topic of conversation. "That must be thefortezza ," she said. "The Florentines built it in the late 1400s over the original Etruscan settlement, which dated to around the eighth century B.C."
"Been reading our guidebook, have we?"
"Several of them." They passed an Esso station and a tidy little house with a satellite dish perched above its red roof tiles. "Somehow I'd pictured the Etruscans as cavemen with clubs, but this was a fairly advanced civilization. They had a lot in common with the Greeks. They were merchants, seafarers, farmers, craftsmen. They mined copper and smelted iron ore. And their women were surprisingly liberated for the time."
"Thank God for that."
There was nothing like a history lesson to keep things impersonal. She should have thought of this earlier. "As the Romans moved in, the Etruscan culture was gradually assimilated, although some people think the modern Tuscan lifestyle is more a reflection of its Etruscan roots than its Roman ones.
"Any excuse for a party."
"Something like that." She followed the parking signs past a pretty walkway lined with benches and found a spot at the end of the lot. "They don't let cars in the city, so we have to park out here."
He spoke around a yawn. "There's a great museum in town filled with some world-class Etruscan artifacts that should strike your fancy."
"You've been here?"
"Years ago, but I still remember it. The Etruscans were one of the reasons I majored in history before I flunked out of college."
She eyed him suspiciously. "You already knew those things I was talking about, didn't you?"
"Pretty much, but it gave me a chance for a quick nap. By the way, the original Etruscan city was built around the ninth century B.C., not the eighth. But, hey, what's a hundred years here and there?"
So much for showing off her knowledge. They got out of the Panda, and she saw that one corner of his sunglasses was wrapped with tape. "Didn't you wear a disguise like this in that movie where you tried to rape Cameron Diaz?"
"I believe I was trying to murder her, not rape her."
"I don't mean to sound critical, but doesn't all that sadism get to you after a while?"
"Thank you for not being critical. And sadism has made me famous."
She followed him through the parking lot toward the sidewalk. He moved with the rolling gait of a much heavier man, another illusion from his actor's toolbox. It seemed to be working, because no one was paying any attention to him. She told herself to be quiet and leave it alone, but old habits were hard to break. "That's still important to you, isn't it?"
she said. "Despite all the inconvenience. Being famous."
"If there's a spotlight around, I generally enjoy having it pointed in my direction. And don't pretend not to know what I'm talking about."
"You think attention is what motivates me?"
"Isn't it?"
"Only as a means of getting my message across. "
"I believe you."
He clearly didn't. She looked up at him, knowing she should let it go. "Is that all you want your life to be about? Staying in the spotlight?"
"Spare me your self-improvement lectures. I'm not interested."
"I wasn't going to lecture."
"Fifi, you live to lecture. Lecturing is your oxygen."
"And that threatens you?" She followed him down the cobblestones.
"Everything about you threatens me."
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment."
"You think I'm smug, don't you?"
"I've observed a
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