An Apartment in Venice by Marlene Hill

no good and she yelled, “Attento!” just as they shoved him. Her warning was all he needed. He swung a blow at one man’s upper body then rolled over onto his shoulder kicking the other in the knee. They both fell, scrambled up and scurried away, cursing. Giulia ran to the fallen man.
    It was Chuck!
    “Are you okay?” she asked bending over him.
    “I’m fine,” he said and looked up to see Giulia. He almost wished he’d been injured so she’d hover longer. As he got up, his ankle gave way. He sat down on a step to examine it. “Thanks for the warning.”
    “Is your foot hurt?”
    “Twisted my ankle, no big problem. They weren’t willing to fight for my wallet. Damned low-lifes out for easy pickings,” he muttered.
    “How’d they get inside? Surely they didn’t pay.”
    “Yeah. Maybe the ticket seller gets a cut,” he growled.
    “Would it help to lean on me until you know for sure about your ankle?”
    “Thanks, Giulia, but I can make it.” Then he thought better of that decision and limped heavily reaching for her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer. My car’s not far.”
    He didn’t put his full weight on her little shoulder. She was small compared to his six-foot-two frame and didn’t look all that strong. But she was surprisingly steady as they hobbled out the gate toward his bright-yellow Fiat Punto. He began to think fast, determined to not let her get away today.
    “I’m lucky you came along when you did.”
    “They came at you fast. Your reflexes were amazing. All I saw was a blur, and they were gone.”
    “I wasn’t as quick as I should have been. Out of practice.” He shook his head in disgust. “I should have heard them before you shouted.”
    “You mentioned Special Ops. Are you still involved?”
    “Not actively. That’s a young man’s profession and I’m pushing forty.” Damn. Hope that won’t turn her off.
    “Are most people forced out at that age?”
    “No. No one forced me out. Some guys stay in much longer; they merely train harder. As for me, I took a look at my life and decided the cold sweats that strike in the middle of the night aren’t worth it anymore.” She didn’t need to hear that either.
    “I’m sorry for asking.”
    “Don’t be. I’ve been away from all that for three years and life’s improving.” Much more since I met you.
    They were at the car where he opened the door and eased into the little auto and looked up at her. “Giulia, you saved me from a lot more grief than a twisted ankle. You know don’t you, that in ancient Chinese tradition, you are now responsible for my well being?”
    “Is that so?” she said grinning and put her hand on the top of the little vehicle. “You don’t look the least bit ancient or Chinese, especially while wearing that miniature yellow automobile.”
    “We never do know our true heritage, do we?” he said ignoring her comment about his car. “I mean, if we go back far enough—”
    “You could be right.”
    “Of course the tradition doesn’t include daily care and feeding, but it does mean that when I’m in need, you will rush to my rescue. And what I need most is to have dinner with you.”
    “You’re good,” she said putting her hands on her hips. “It’s tempting to say no just to hear what other plan you’ll come up with, but—”
    “But you’ll say yes, right? I know of a Chinese restaurant in the northern part of Vicenza called La Muraglia. ”
    Giulia wrinkled her nose in distaste and said, “A Chinese restaurant called The Wall. How clever of them.”
    “Uh oh. Guess I hit the wrong wall with that idea. How about a Pugliese restaurant? I know a good one, Zio Zeb.”
    “Uncle Zeb, huh? That does sound better than Chinese cuisine in Italy. I haven’t enjoyed Chinese food anywhere except San Francisco or Seattle.”
    “Neither have I. It just popped into my head. You see, Giulia, I’m not nearly as slick as you might think.”
    She liked that touch of