What A Girl Wants [antikvár]

PROLOGUE On the one hand, you might have said my day wasn't going terribly well. But on the other, I had told Amy that I wanted to make big changes in my life and there weren't many lifestyle changes more significant than swapping a luxury Italian palazzo for a prison cell. And my second prison cell in two weeks, at that. Clearly I was going for some sort of record. It was one thing to say you wanted to start over, it was another thing to start over as someone on the 'no fly' list because you were considered an international flight risk. I was almost certain the generally accepted way of society was to go the other way. I took a deep breath, blew it out hard and examined my bitten-down fingernails while trying to remain calm and wait for someone to appear and make this entire mess go away. Ideally someone I knew, accompanied by someone with a working knowledge of the Italian legal system, but at this point, as long as they didn't have a gun, a pair of handcuffs or a pointy stick, I'd be happy.