themselves, with dark glasses, hats, whatever they had on hand, they could escape before the paparazzi saw them leave. He bowed low as he expressed his regrets, which told Leslie that someone in the hotel had squealed.
A bellman came to get their bags, as Coco put on dark glasses and a scarf over her head. They weren't looking for her, they wanted Leslie, they both knew, but if they got him, they would discover her as well. And having seen her in Los Angeles with him, if she turned up in Italy too, everyone would know that this was a serious affair. Leslie was hoping to spare them that kind of heat for a while. And once they knew who she was, if they discovered where she came from, they would besiege her in Bolinas too. He didn't want that to happen to her. It was bad enough that he had to live with it, but for the moment, he wanted Coco protected from the press.
They took the elevator to the basement, and exited through the garage. Leslie was wearing dark glasses and a golf cap the manager had unearthed somewhere, and they quickly got into the car, and drove out the back entrance behind a laundry truck and a van from a local florist. They were gone long before the paparazzi discovered that they had checked out. They drove peacefully back to Venice, congratulating themselves on having outfoxed the press.
“Well done,” Leslie said, smiling at her. Thanks to the manager's warning, their exit had been extremely smooth. Both he and Coco were relieved.
They got back to Venice early enough to take a boat to the Lido, and have a drink at the Cipriani. It was a spectacular hotel, with an incredible view of Venice. And then they went back to the Gritti, to dine privately in Leslie's rooms. It had been a perfect weekend. Coco was thrilled that she still had another five days with him. She loved living with him again. They were golden days for both of them. Before they went to bed, they called Chloe. She reported on everything she was doing at school, and had won the prize for best costume on Halloween. She asked when she was going to see him. Leslie had promised to spend Thanksgiving with her and her mother in New York, if he finished the film in time. He looked apologetically at Coco after he hung up.
“That was stupid of me, wasn't it? I should have asked you what you were doing first. I just usually try to spend the holiday with her.” Coco knew he hadn't seen her in two months, and it would be another three weeks before he did.
“Don't worry about it,” Coco said, smiling at him. “I always spend it at my mother's in L.A. We usually do Christmas there too, but this year we're doing it at Jane's. She'll be too pregnant to travel by then.” It felt weird to say it. The idea of Jane being pregnant and having a baby still seemed totally foreign to her.
“I'll come to see you right after Thanksgiving,” he promised. “Hopefully we'll be finished here by then. And we'll get a break while they set up in L.A. We should get a decent hiatus over Christmas too. I'll spend every minute I can with you. I promise.” She leaned back into his arms with a blissful look.
They tried to be together that week as much as they could. She watched him on the set for hours, and in her spare time she went back to the churches she liked best, and discovered some new ones. She could find her way easily around Venice by then. Leslie was impressed. She knew the city far better than he did, but he rarely got time off, except at night.
They went out to dinner on her last night, to a small, funny restaurant on a back street. A gondola took them there, a different one than they'd had before. He took them to one of the ancient landing blocks, and from there they walked down an alley and around a corner to the restaurant. Coco had no trouble finding it, after her extensive explorations of Venice. It was charming when they walked in. It had a small garden, although it was too cold to sit outside. And the food was delicious, the best they'd had so far. They shared a bottle of Chianti, and were in good spirits when they left, although