16:45 / 4:45 P.M. CEST
They walked silently for a while, Nir enjoying the feel of Nicole’s hand on his bare arm. A large tiled square spread out in front of the classic Teatro alla Scala opera house, and they stopped in its center to admire a statue of Leonardo da Vinci. Taking a right onto Via Alessandro Manzoni, they continued for block after block, passing shops, cafes, and museums.
The conversation soon picked up again with Nir filling Nicole in on his diamond business and Aunt Mila’s latest admonitions against his lifestyle choices. Nicole laid out her upcoming schedule that would take her to Stockholm, London, New York City, and Dallas.
When they reached Via Monte Napoleone, they took a right. Nir stopped. He could not remember the last time he felt so out of place—and actually poor. Lining the narrow street were high-end shops selling clothing that would probably cost him a year’s salary just to try on.
“Welcome to Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous,” Nicole said with a laugh, sliding her hand down to take his. She gave him a tug that put his legs back in gear.
“What is this alien world, and why have you brought me here?”
“Oh, come on. It will be fun. Maybe I’ll let you buy me something.” He saw the twinkle in her eyes.
“Maybe a souvenir keychain, but even that will probably max out my credit card, and I’ve got some pretty high-limit credit cards.”
As they walked on, Nicole talked about some of the designers with storefronts along the road. Some she’d modeled for, but most were still out of her league. Not all the stores sold clothing. Nir saw art galleries, restaurants, and jewelry stores as well. He recognized some of the names of the jewelers and wondered if any of his diamonds had made their way into their vaults.
Eventually, the conversation moved back to their other activities, the work that didn’t involve runways or bling.
“Do you have anything you can tell me about coming up?” Nicole asked.
“Something big is coming in November, but I can’t say too much because you’ll be out saving the world one photo shoot at a time.”
“I know.” She sounded a little embarrassed. “I just felt like I need to spend some time rebuilding my presence in the modeling world for the last part of the year. And our higher-ups agreed.”
“I get it, I get it. Like we talked about before, it’s a good move. I just wish I had you on this op. It’s going to be new and cutting edge, and it will most certainly make the news.”
“So intriguing. Can’t wait to find out about it.”
Nir thought a moment, then said, “I can tell you it will involve AI in a major way.”
“Artificial intelligence? Now I’m even more intrigued.”
“Exactly. Again, cutting edge. But AI is also the downside to the operation, because who is our team AI expert?”
Nicole laughed. “Oh no. Lahav.”
Lahav Tabib was a brilliant analyst. But he was also a little bit crazy and a whole lot irritating. He could speak more words in three minutes than Nir would say in a whole day. Typically, Nir counted on Nicole to keep Lahav under control, but with her gone, he would have no buffer.
“Yeah, and get this. He’ll be deployed with my Kidon boys when we go in. I’ll probably have to find him a desert camouflage pocket protector for his BDU,” Nir said. He really couldn’t picture what Lahav would look like in a battle dress uniform.
Nicole stopped laughing. “Nir, is that a good idea? With his mouth and lack of self-awareness, how are you going to keep him quiet?”
“Threats, mostly, I guess. Maybe gaffer tape? I don’t know. I just know this op is so technical and complicated that he needs to be on the ground with us.”
For a while, they were both silent again.
Nicole suddenly stopped in front of a gallery and pointed to a painting in its window. “I know her!”
“Um, I do too. It’s Marilyn Monroe. I hate to break it to you, but she’s kind of a big deal.”
“No, you goof,” she said, punching his arm. “I know the artist. Alicia Marcos. She and I shared a flight once from Frankfurt to New Jersey. She was on her way home to Houston, Texas. We really hit it off, and we’ve kept in touch and gotten together a couple of times since then. This is her work. See her name in the corner?”
The picture was a modern take on the Hollywood star. Very raw. Very colorful. And she was biting down on a contemporary pair of Oakley sunglasses. But what intrigued him most was the canvas. “What is that painted on?”
“That’s the coolest part. Alicia paints on a mixture of cement, and I don’t know what else. It’s a whole process. And not only does it look awesome, but it lasts, even where it’s wet or humid. See, it’s got that high-gloss finish, which is really a protectant. Many of her clients are yacht owners—Texas oil barons, movie stars, Bollywood actors. She’s one of the few in the world who use this technique, so when they want to decorate their yachts, she gets the call.”
A spark of an idea formed in Nir’s mind. Likely, it would be impractical—and quite probably, impossible. But he wouldn’t know for sure until he got a little more information.
“Where did you say your next shoots are?”
“Stockholm, London, New York, Dallas. Just in and out at each. Why? I can see the gears turning. What’s going on in that twisted mind of yours?”
“Since you’ll be in Dallas, is there any chance you might be able to pop on over to Houston?”
“It’s Texas. I don’t think any two cities are within pop-able distance. But sure, I could add a few days to my trip.”
A smile spread across Nir’s face. “Interesting. You and I need to do some serious talking. Let’s grab something to eat. But not here. I don’t want to have to mortgage my business for a plate of pasta.”
“Okay, Mr. Bond, I’m in.” Then she grabbed his arm again as they looked for a cab.