Read The Juliet Club for Free Online Page B

stone tunnel, which led in turn into a small courtyard. The courtyard was crowded with people taking photos of each other, the famous balcony, and a bronze statue of Juliet. Not one person, Kate noted, was reading the informational signs helpfully posted nearby, or even thumbing through a guidebook. A bustling gift shop was located directly across the courtyard from the entrance to Juliet’s House, and that was what attracted Lucy’s attention first.
    â€œOh, look!” Lucy said, pointing at a row of tiny corked bottles in the window. Each one was filled with a different colored liquid—amber, ruby, emerald, bright blue—and had a handwritten label that said elisir d’amore . “How cute! But what does”—she frowned slightly as she sounded out the Italian words—“el-ee-zir dah-moh-ray mean?”
    â€œLove potion,” Kate said. She gave a disapproving sniff. “Otherwise known as colored sugar water.”
    But Lucy was already pulling out her wallet. “Let me see how much I have on me.”
    â€œYou’re just throwing your money away. You could bottle that at home.”
    Lucy stopped counting her euros long enough to give Kate a long, searching look. “You’re a very sensible person, aren’t you, Kate?”
    â€œIt doesn’t take much sense,” Kate said crisply, “to avoid drinking potions in Verona.”
    But Lucy just shrugged and said happily, “Well, I think it’s a great souvenir! I’ll be right back.”
    As she darted into the gift shop and Tom drifted away to look at postcards, a tired-looking woman stood on the steps in front of the entrance and called out, “ Attenzione! I will begin now my lecture on Juliet’s House.”
    A few people moved closer to the tour guide, and Kate pulled a pen and small notebook from her purse to jot down notes.
    â€œYou will notice above me the famous balcony,” the tour guide said.
    The small group looked up and nodded. It was hard to miss.
    â€œWhen standing here, one can perhaps imagine Romeo, waiting below, yearning for one single glimpse of his beloved Giulietta—”
    Kate shifted from one foot to the other and tried to suppress a yawn.
    To her right, a woman was brandishing a camera in the air and yelling, “Sam, Sam! Go stand under that window and let me get a picture of you!”
    â€œâ€”one can perhaps envision Juliet, not quite fourteen years old, waiting breathlessly above us, gazing into her future—”
    Kate turned her head slightly to look around the courtyard. Her gaze passed without interest over a stand of postcards, then stopped. In the far corner, a young man was leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, looking completely at ease. He had dark eyes, tousled brown hair, and the classic profile and self-possessed air of a Renaissance prince. In the midst of the courtyard’s hectic atmosphere, he stood still and watchful, only moving to take a bite of the apple he was holding. Even that simple gesture was somehow regal, and Kate suddenly imagined that he might have been transported across time from some earlier, more elegant century. She frowned slightly at this uncharacteristically whimsical thought. Perhaps she had a little jet lag after all.
    Then another boy, shorter and with wild black curls, pushed a bike through the crowd with a cheerful “Permesso!” and let it crash to the ground. He said something that made the first boy laugh, then picked up his bike and continued to talk, even as the first boy kept surveying the crowd.
    His eyes flicked from one person to the other, seeming to assess each one in turn—and then they met Kate’s eyes, and she found herself staring directly at him. For a long moment, neither one of them looked away . . . then Tom came up to her and the spell was broken.
    â€œI’m going to head back to the villa,” he said, clearly bored. “See you