Sing For Me (13 page)

“Is this your first time in Venice?”

“Actually—ah!” She staggered back as someone walking by rammed into her shoulder.

The woman whom Chloe was speaking to reached out, and Chloe’s hands instinctively moved toward her.

Instead of pulling her back, the woman ended up pushing her. Before Chloe knew it, she was on the floor.

“Chlo!”

“Oh, are you all right?” Black blots spewed from the woman’s words while she knelt next to her and dusted down her jeans and arms.

Chloe blinked, and as she did, her eyelids wiped away the blotches just as windscreen wipers did.

“I’m all right,” she told the woman and leaned back. She didn’t like people she didn’t know touching her. “I’m all right.”

“Chloe, are you hurt?” Christopher asked as he took her hand.

She turned to him. “No.”

He pulled her to her feet and stepped between her and the woman.

Thanks, she mouthed.

“What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” She kneaded her shoulder. “Someone rammed into me and …” She thought she felt the woman pushing her, but she couldn’t be certain.

Christopher took her hand and gently turned it over. “Are you sure you … aren’t hurt?”

She looked down at her other arm, checking her elbow. “I’m fine; just shocked by what happened.” She glanced to the side, to the woman who was with her.

The woman was nowhere to be found.

Christopher pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Let’s get you to the hotel so you can … rest.”

She nodded and adjusted her handbag, shifting it higher up her shoulder.

Wait.
She frowned and shrugged her bag off her shoulder, pulling the handles to her wrist.

Her bag seemed to have gotten lighter, much lighter.

She unzipped her bag and tipped her head back. “I knew something was wrong.” She put her hand through the slit at the bottom. “My wallet, phone, and passport are gone.”

Christopher turned and leaned to the side. “So is your luggage.”

She sighed and ran her fingers over the bottom of his backpack. “And your stuff, but I think they only got one compartment.”

Christopher swung the backpack over and checked his bag.

He groaned and closed his eyes. “The envelope with your … money is gone. I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Even if she’d kept some of the money, it would be gone as well.

She licked her lips while her eyes scanned the area. There wasn’t a point, though. The couple was long gone.

She sighed again when several tourists strolled past them, staring at them with part skepticism and part confusion.

She’d never been this uncertain in Italy.

Now, standing outside the train station of one of the most beautiful cities in the world, she was overwhelmed by an ominous feeling that their jovial holiday had come to an end.

She inhaled deeply through her nose while she tried to focus.
What should she do now?

“Chloe—”

“I need to call the bank and cancel my cards.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone. “Here. Why don’t you do that while I get us to the hotel?”

“Okay.” She took his phone, but she didn’t even know what the number was. “I need wi-fi.”

“The hotel should have … it.” Christopher took her hand and cocked his head to the side. “Let’s go.”

Christopher sat on the edge of the bed and watched Chloe’s hands gesture while she spoke on the phone. He’d never seen her this worked up.

Once they got to the hotel, she explained to the receptionist that her things had been stolen and she didn’t have her passport. The hotel staff called the manager who said they couldn’t provide the room without a passport.

Chloe dove into another heated conversation, this time in Italian, and the manager was kind enough to change their reservation to a room with double bed until Chloe could get some form of identification.

And since she got her hands on the wi-fi password, she had been on the phone.

He couldn’t understand what she was saying, but he could see she was agitated.

Besides her opening line of ‘
buongiorno
,’ which Chloe had told him meant either ‘good day’ or ‘good morning’ and the ‘
si, si, si,
’ which meant ‘yes, yes, yes,’ he couldn’t catch anything else.

She was speaking too fast.

She continued pacing the room, occasionally sitting on the chair and propping her hand on the table for a couple of seconds.

“Ah! Forget it!” She hung up the call and sighed heavily.

“Is it bad? Have they used … your credit cards already?”

“No, it isn’t that. There were a few small transactions, but the operator says the bank will process the return once I submit the police report. The problem is, I don’t have access to my money until I have some form of identification.”

He frowned, but her passport and wallet were gone.

“Exactly,” she said.

Christopher nodded slowly. “So … how do we get you another passport?”

“We need to go to the consulate.” She paused. “In Milan. But we don’t have the money to get there.”

Now he understood why she was so upset.

“I tried explaining that to the bank, but all they would tell me is that they can’t allow me to access money from my account until I have proof of my identification. They just don’t get it that I can’t get my identification without my money!” She sighed and sat next to him. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have yelled. I just … I don’t know what to do.”

“Actually …” Christopher went to his bag and dug into one of the compartments. “I have some money; not a lot, but I hope it’s enough to get us to Milan.”

When he got addicted to drinking, he went crazy with his spendings. To say the truth, he didn’t even know where most of his money went. The only thing on his mind was getting more alcohol. He didn’t care where his money came from and where it went, as long as he had enough to get more drinks.

He didn’t have much money left in his bank account, but he withdrew the last three hundred dollars and brought it with him anyway. “I’m sure we … can change the money at the … the train station or something.”

Chloe broke into a huge grin. She threw her hands around his neck and kissed him on his cheek. “Oh, Chris, you saved my life!”

He laughed softly, immensely pleased that he was able to get her smiling again. “It’s nothing … compared with what you’ve … spent.”

She scowled at him. “All that money in the envelope and my bank can’t do a thing to help me now.”

“Do you want to try … switching our train tickets that are meant for … Rome to Milan instead?”

“You can’t change tickets that you bought online. I tried that once,” she said. “But I don’t mind trying again.” She took his hand and pulled him off the bed. “Let’s go. Hopefully we can get there before the consulate closes.”

Christopher paced outside a cafe. He watched his feet as he placed one foot in front of the other, waiting for Chloe to come out from the consulate.

The building structures in Milan were similar to those back in the States, so there wasn’t much to capture his attention. From the train station, silver high-rise buildings like that of offices in New York were everywhere. Further out of the main city area, shorter blocks of modern buildings dominated.

He supposed all that was left of the old world would only be found in tourist areas.

He aligned his right foot along the right line of the rectangular floor tile and tried to stay as close to it as he walked along. Milan was the only city with proper floor tiles paving the walkway. It would be so much easier to pull Chloe’s suitcase out here, except there wasn’t any suitcase for him to pull now.

He cast a glance into the cafe.

It was getting cold outside, and he wanted to get something warm to drink.

He had ten euros in his pocket. He’d given the rest of the money to Chloe in case she had to pay for whatever administrative fee needed to process her passport.

Ten euros should be enough for a glass of hot coffee, but he didn’t want to spend it. He wasn’t sure how long their money would last, and a little cold wouldn’t kill him.

A little wine would be great, and I wouldn’t have to worry about what was going on.
He shook his head and checked the time on his watch, then stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned around to see Chloe trudging toward him, her shoulders slumped forward as she plodded along. She glanced up from the floor once and sighed when their eyes met.

Stopping a few steps away from him, she sat on the curb by the road.

“What happened?”

She buried her face in her hands. “We’re screwed.”

“You couldn’t get your pass … port?” No, that couldn’t be. She was a US citizen; it didn’t make sense.

Chloe shook her head and stared ahead. “I need my ID.”

“Which was … stolen.”

“That was what I said. Then they say I’ll have to give them my birth certificate.”

“Is your birth certificate in … your apartment in Rome?”

She shook her head again. “I have no idea where it is. They say I can get it couriered over from the state office.”

“Great.”

“That’s not the bad news. They need up to ten weeks to process and deliver my passport.”

He blinked. “Ten weeks.”

“Up to ten weeks.”

“So it could be … a week.”

“The lady says it usually takes six.”

They really were screwed.

Chloe ran her hand through her hair. “How are we going to survive six to ten weeks on nothing?” Her chest rose and fell sharply. “They asked why didn’t I make a copy of my passport. I didn’t know people do that. Did you photocopy your passport? Why didn’t I do that?”

“Chlo.” He took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Everything will be all right.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Did you explain that you’re stuck here … with no money?”

She nodded. “And you know what they told me?” She rolled her eyes before continuing. “I can expedite the process. I can get my passport in 24 hours after I get my birth certificate. All I need is to pay three hundred euros.”

He sighed softly.

“Which I would gladly pay if I had access to my bank accounts!”

“I can ask my mom to … courier the money over.” He didn’t want to borrow money from his mom, but they were rather desperate.

“I don’t think that’s allowed. The money might disappear in customs or end up stuck.” She pursed her lips and brushed her fingers against her nose. “I have a FedEx account, so I can have my birth certificate here tomorrow and have the courier fee charged to my account.”

“Did you have to pay for … anything just now?”

She shook her head.

“Then we have … enough to survive for a few days.”

“Then what do we do after that? Beg at the train station?”

He took her hand into his and rested them on his leg. “We can set up the same con the couple did on us.”

She laughed softly. “We’ll need one more person to make a team.”

“We’ll find a way.” He had no idea what they were going to do, but she didn’t need to hear that now.

She leaned against his shoulder, and he turned to breathe in her hair. Escaping to his alcohol was no longer an option, especially not when Chloe needed him. Besides, he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Chloe.

“Let’s find something to eat, then maybe we should call it a day.”

“There!” She shot upright and pointed at him. “You’re not stuttering again!”

He sighed. He thought she’d come up with an idea. “You’re dreaming again.”

“I’m serious, you weren’t stuttering,” she said. “I should start recording our conversations. That’s if I have a phone.” She got up on her feet. “I don’t get many calls, but I still feel weird without it.”

“Take mine.” He placed his phone into her hand. “No one besides my mom calls … me.”

She grinned. “Thank God all my data is uploaded onto iCloud; otherwise, we’d have lost all the photos we’ve taken.”

“Funny you’re still concerned … about that.”

She hooked her hand on his elbow and leaned against him. “At least we still have a roof over our heads.”

Christopher and Chloe had just stepped into the hotel when the manager noticed them. Immediately, the smile the manager had politely displayed melted into a solemn purse of the lips.

The manager stepped out from behind the counter and met them halfway into the lobby.

Christopher sighed softly.
What else could go wrong?

“I’m sorry, Miss Brooks and Mr. Hunter.”

In English?
This must be bad,
Christopher thought.

“The card you used to book the room with has been declined,” the manager said as he led them to a corner, away from the lobby.

Chloe ran her hand through her hair. “You mean it hasn’t been charged to my credit card?”

“We only block the amount required for your stay. We only charge it when you check out.”

“And now my cards are blocked.” She turned away from them for a moment, then spun back around. “Are we being kicked out?”

“Perhaps Mr. Hunter has a credit card?”

Mr. Hunter didn’t, not anymore.

“Can you give me a day or two? Please? I know I’m asking for a lot, but I’m good for it, I promise.”

The hotel manager pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, Miss Brooks—”

“I think we have enough for the night.” He looked over at Chloe.

“Oh, right.” She reached into her pocket and handed the money over to the hotel manager.

The hotel manager took the money and nodded. “But tomorrow?”

“We’ll let you know,” Christopher said and led Chloe toward the lift.

Chloe was quiet all the way to the room.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m kind of desperate enough to ask someone to send me money through FedEx. Every other method will require identification, which I don’t have.”

“I heard St. Mark’s Square is … beautiful at night.”

She stared at him.

“It’s not as if we can … change anything by sitting … here.”

She closed her eyes, then crawled under the covers. “I just want to lie here.”

He could barely hear what she was saying.