"Oh, che ti stai perdendo! L'Italia è molto bella!*" he said, in Italian only slightly mangled, but enough to make him wince inwardly. He led her down the street at an easy amble, as though he were in no hurry to be anywhere and had all the time in the world. "Of course, it's different depending on which part of the country you're in, but all of it has it's charm."
The shop was large and surprisingly sleek-looking for the promised 'mom and pop' establishment. It was classy and looked even more fashionably appointed than the trendy chain out of Seattle, as though Italian interior design flowed through the family's blood as well as the juice of the coffee berry.
The young lady behind the counter recognized Bruce, but unlike the people at the Registration Center, she didn't seem phased by his appearance. "Bongiorno,, Mr. Wayne," she greeted warmly. "Your usual?"
"Si," he nodded, grinning widely. "Grazie mille, Fabrizia amore." Gesturing to Jessica, he added, "And whatever my friend Agent Drew wants." A board behind the barista's head listed the different styles of coffee she could choose from, and Bruce waved casually at it. "If you have any questions, Fabrizia will be happy to help; her parents own this place. I'm getting the bicerìn for here, and then a caffè corretto and a caffè ristretto to go." He shrugged. "My office is another block from here."
"He's here all the time," Fabrizia commented, laughing at his use of the word 'amore'.