{"product_id":"our-italian-summer-isbn-9780593098462","title":"Our Italian Summer","description":"\u003cb\u003eThree generations of women in the Ferrari family must heal the broken pieces of their lives on a trip of a lifetime through picturesque Italy from \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Jennifer Probst \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Workaholic, career-obsessed Francesca is fiercely independent and successful in all areas of her life except one: family. She struggles to make time for her relationship with her teenage daughter, Allegra, and the two have become practically strangers to each other. When Allegra hangs out with a new crowd and is arrested for drug possession, Francesca gives in to her mother's wish that they take one epic summer vacation to trace their family roots in Italy. She just never expected to face a choice that might change the course of her life. . .\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Allegra wants to make her grandmother happy, but she hates the idea of forced time with her mother and vows to fight every step of the ridiculous tour, until a young man on the verge of priesthood begins to show her the power of acceptance, healing, and the heartbreaking complications of love.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Sophia knows her girls are in trouble. A summer filled with the possibility for change is what they all desperately need. Among the ruins of ancient Rome, the small churches of Assisi, and the rolling hills of Tuscany, Sophia hopes to show her girls that the bonds of family are everything, and to remind them that they can always lean on one another, before it's too late.\u003cb\u003ePraise for Jennifer Probst and her novels\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In \u003ci\u003eOur Italian Summer\u003c\/i\u003e, Jennifer Probst captures the essence of Italy and celebrates the bond between mothers and daughters. With food worthy of an Italian grandmother’s kitchen and descriptions to make the Travel Channel jealous, you’ll want to join the Ferrari women on their unforgettable journey.\"—\u003cb\u003eAmy E. Reichert\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eOur Italian Summer\u003c\/i\u003e beautifully navigates the complicated relationships between families in a heartfelt manner in this multigenerational novel set against the splendid backdrop of Italy in all of her glory. Jennifer Probst whisks readers away on an unforgettable journey. The perfect novel to satisfy your wanderlust!”—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Chanel Cleeton\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Filled with family drama amidst a lush setting, plus a touch of romance, \u003ci\u003eOur Italian Summer\u003c\/i\u003e will provide a delicious escape for readers.”―\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eBooklist\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Beautiful, sexy, and so well written! Highly recommend!\"—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Emma Chase\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Probst tugs at the heartstrings.\"—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Jennifer Probst is an absolute auto-buy author for me.\"—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Julie Kenner\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Jennifer Probst pens a charming, romantic tale destined to steal your heart.\"—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author Lori Wilde\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eJennifer Probst\u003c\/b\u003e is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of the Billionaire Builders series, the Searching For . . . series, the Marriage to a Billionaire series, the Steele Brothers series, the Stay series, and the Sunshine Sisters series. Like some of her characters, Probst, along with her husband and two sons, calls New York's Hudson Valley home. When she isn't traveling to meet readers, she enjoys reading, watching \"shameful reality television,\" and visiting a local Hudson Valley animal shelter. Follow her at JenniferProbst.com.\u003cp\u003eChapter One\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFrancesca\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No, I said the deadline is Wednesday. That gives you two days to give me a decent hook or I'm pulling you off the account.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI ignored the glint of resentment in the young man's green eyes, wondering if he thought his charm and good looks trumped talent. In many places, they did. But not in my company.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI gave him credit for smothering the emotion immediately and forcing a smile. \"Got it. I'll get it done.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI nodded. \"I know you will.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe left my office with his shoulders squared, and I wondered what would eventually triumph-pride or the drive for success. He was young and had promise, so I hoped the latter for him. Pride was good in some cases, but working on a team to retain high-powered advertising accounts required the ability to do what it took, whether it was working with someone you didn't care for or swallowing the innate instinct to push back at the boss you hated.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOf course, he didn't hate me. At least not yet. It was hard to take orders from a woman who was blind to looks, charisma, or flattery. I'd learned that lesson early-and ran my F\u0026amp;F Advertising with a ruthless efficiency and cold-mannered sharpness that made me one of the best in the business. I'd even managed to snag a spot on the Top Ten Women to Watch in Business list from Fortune magazine.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eToo bad I had no time to enjoy it.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI glanced at my watch, my mind furiously clicking over the day's crammed schedule. I'd have to work late again, but it'd be worth it once I nailed this new account. I headed to the conference room for a meeting with my team, my sensible low-heeled shoes clicking on the hardwood floor. Layla and Kate were already perched at the polished table, laptops fired up and endless papers strewn around.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Morning, boss,\" Kate said, motioning toward the chair next to her. \"Figured we'd be eating lunch in again, so I had Jessica get your usual.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Thanks.\" I took a sip of my Voss water as I sat beside them. I lived on water and grilled chicken salads, which was the easiest fuel to shove into my body on limited time. \"Where's Adam?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Running late,\" Layla said, shooting me a smile. \"But I don't think we need him for the brainstorming session. Better to get his feedback on the social media after we have a few solid concepts.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"True. He didn't look too thrilled with our new product.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKate quirked a brow. \"He's been begging to sell something sexier than kids' lemonade.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLayla snorted. \"I told him anyone can sell sex-it's not even a challenge. If he makes this work, he's a genius.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI laughed. \"You always did know how to motivate him, Layla.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy valued art director preened. \"Plenty of practice in the ranks of hell. At least it was good for something.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLayla had graduated at the top of her class and planned to take Manhattan by storm. Unfortunately, like me, she ended up with a slew of crap jobs, and being a black woman in the industry meant encountering prejudices to overcome. We'd worked together for a few years before I ventured out to create my own company, and I knew she'd be the perfect art director for F\u0026amp;F Advertising.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI trusted her with both my business and my personal shit. It was the best decision I ever made.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKate was my advertising manager and my other right hand. She wore tailored designer suits, and her blond hair was pulled back tight in a chignon, emphasizing her classic bone structure. I had to admit, when I first met Kate, I thought she was too beautiful and quiet to be successful in such a cutthroat business, but she soon proved me wrong, and now I never discriminate based on looks. I made sure I hired a diverse, multicultural team, treated them like royalty, and offered enough incentives for promotion. It proved a good move, since I had low turnover and a core of hard-won talent.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLately, I'd been thinking of offering them both a full partnership. My little boutique company was finally on the verge of exploding, and I needed people I trusted by my side. I had been intent on not bringing in partners, but now I saw that if I wanted to really grow, it was time I took the leap. Plus, I considered these women friends. They'd proven their loyalty, and we worked well together.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut that tiny sliver of doubt still crept through me. I'd gotten here by relying on my own drive, talent, and gut instincts to give clients what they need, twenty-four seven. I was the final say on everything for my company. Giving up that type of control made my skin prickle, like I was about to break out into hives. I'd heard horror stories of being pushed out by once-trusted partners and overruled on important decisions by lack of majority. What if Kate and Layla decided to team up and I found myself the odd woman out? Power sometimes had a funny effect on relationships. Did I really want to take such a chance? Even with these women I trusted and called friends?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI needed more time to think it through. Until then, I'd just push forward.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI shook my head and refocused. \"Let's get to work. We only have two weeks until the presentation. I've been looking over all the reports from the research department and there are a few things we need to zone in on.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLayla jumped in. \"Lexi's Lemonade is organic. That's the main buzzword.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Exactly. Statistics show kids drive popular drink sales by pushing their parents to buy. We need to find a way to bridge the gap and get the children to beg mom to buy it.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"And the moms need to feel good about giving in,\" Kate added.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI brought up a picture of the label on my screen and tapped it with my fingernail. \"Packaging is huge. The recycled box is earth-friendly and colorful. It needs to compete on the shelves with Capri Sun, Honest Kids, and the endless others. We need to find a unique inroad.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"At least it tastes good,\" Layla said. She pursed her red-painted lips. \"Can you believe Kool-Aid still sells a shitload? Man, I loved that stuff growing up. And what a mascot. Genius.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Hmm, but I don't think we want a mascot for this product,\" I said. \"We need to gain children's attention with the ad, then slam it home that there's low sugar and no preservatives. The double hook.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Shock value?\" Layla threw out.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI nodded. \"Possible, but not too much. I think funny.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKate cocked her head. \"Kids nowadays are immune to shock value with YouTube and video games. I agree, funny may be the way to go.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLayla groaned and opened up her email. \"I'll get Sarah started on kids' comedy and what generates the most sales.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Good, let's start throwing everything in the pot for possible scenarios,\" I said. The rush of adrenaline warmed my blood as the challenge of a new creative account settled in. This was what I lived for, the elusive hunt for the perfect hook to please a client and sell the product. It never got old.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe started brainstorming and my phone vibrated. Glancing quickly at the screen, I noticed my mother had called twice without leaving a voice mail. I held back a groan. Typical. If I didn't pick up, she just kept calling and refused to leave a message. Soon, a text came through.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFrannie, please call me. I have an important question.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eImpatience flickered. She was always calling me with endless questions, from how to work the television remote to what movie to rent at Redbox to whether I'd seen the latest and greatest health scare in the news. Once, she'd called half a dozen times to tell me she had a thirty percent coupon at Kohl's and didn't want it to expire.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe'd never really respected my work or how far I'd come, still treating me like I had a disposable job that allowed me to leave when I wanted, relax on weekends, or delegate my work when I wished. Her constant refrains echoed through my mind.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI don't understand. Aren't you the boss? Why can't you take some time off?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI grabbed my phone and typed out a text. Busy now. Call you later.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI got back to work and shortly thereafter Adam came in. His curly brown hair was a bit mussed, and sweat gleamed on his forehead. \"We have a problem,\" he announced, crashing down into the chair.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"You decided you're too fancy to work on branding Lexi's Lemonade,\" Layla teased, used to Adam's dramatics. The man was a bit over-the-top but a genius when it came to creating click-worthy social media campaigns.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No. The IG ad for Dallas Jeans is tanking.\" He slid his iPad down the table with it opened to the screen. \"Consumers hate it. We need a rebrand.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy heart rate rammed into a full gallop. I had no time for any failures that weren't scheduled. \"It's still brand-new,\" I said, glancing down at the ad. \"Maybe we need some organic growth first.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAdam shook his head. \"Not with this. It's only going to get worse. I have a few suggestions on what to tweak, Frannie. I know you're busy so I can work with Layla and get it handled.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No problem,\" Layla said. \"I can make the time.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI hesitated. I was already overworked and overscheduled. I should just let Adam and Layla take care of it, but the Dallas Jeans ad was something I'd helped create. If it bombed, I needed to be involved in fixing it. \"No, I can work with you.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKate blinked. \"What about Lexi's Lemonade? We don't want to get behind. It may be better to let them handle it, Frannie.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI squared my shoulders. \"I know the client best, including Perry's preferences. I'll stay late a few nights and knock it out.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKate and Layla shared a glance but held their tongues. They'd been pushing for more control, advising me to hire more people and to work lead on fewer clients. I knew they were trying to help and that they craved more responsibility, but I still had an uneasy feeling that if I stepped back too much, they'd eventually decide they didn't need me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI tamped down on the tiny flicker of fear coursing through my bloodstream. That annoying, buzzing voice whispering the million ways I could fail. My entire reputation was based on running F\u0026amp;F Advertising and thriving at every level. I'd finally managed to secure some national-brand clients and needed to show they'd made the right decision in placing their dollars with a smaller firm.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhy did it feel like the entire world was waiting for me to fail? Successful women were still looked upon as dangerous, and one big mistake was gleefully gossiped about, with news of it spreading like wildfire.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI cleared my throat and took a deep breath. \"Now, let's get to work,\" I said firmly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey didn't protest.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHours later, I collapsed in my office and buzzed Jessica. ÒAny messages?Ó I asked.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe rattled off a few I could put off until tomorrow. \"Your mother called twice. Said you'd promised to call her back.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI groaned, rubbing my temples. \"I forgot, thanks. Go on home. Thanks for staying.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No problem. Have a good night, Frannie.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy stomach growled. I reached inside my desk drawer and nibbled on a Kind bar. Better get it over with. I dialed my mom's number.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Hi, Mom. Everything okay?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"You never called me back.\" Her voice held a slight sting designed to instill guilt. It worked. \"You weren't at Allegra's track meet.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShit.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy daughter's schedule was as jam-packed as mine, with tennis matches and races across the county. I'd missed the last few and swore I'd be there for the invitational. Her time was stellar and she had a good chance at getting a scholarship for both her running and her grades. This meet had been key. \"I'm sorry,\" I said with a sigh. \"We had a crisis here at work, and I literally just got to my office. Why didn't she call or text me?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Because she wanted you to remember on your own.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe whiplash of guilt stung deeper. Another test I'd failed. How could I be a rock star at my job and such a loser at home? \"What was her time?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"I forgot but I wrote it down for you. She beat her record in the eight hundred and got a medal for first in the fifteen hundred.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ePride flashed through me. \"That's amazing. Is she there with you?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"No, she went home on her own. But I wanted to invite you both to dinner this week. Allegra wants to try out a new dish and we've had no family time together. How about Wednesday?\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI closed my eyes, resenting the requests she threw at me. She had nothing on her schedule and assumed I should jump at any invitation. \"I can't, Mom. I've got a hell of a week coming up with this new campaign, and I need to work late.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAn impatient sigh huffed over the line. My nerves prickled with annoyance. \"Again? This is a difficult year for Allegra, and she needs you home, at least for dinner. Plus, I can't freeze the grass-fed beef since it's been in the refrigerator and I got it specifically for you. It's expensive.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\"Then make it for yourself, Mom. It has less hormones so it's better for your health.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMom snorted. \"I'm too old to care what I eat anymore. Why can't you come home and eat like a normal person, then go back to the office? At least we'll have some time with you.\"\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI ground my teeth, remembered my last dentist appointment, and tried to relax my jaw. My mother had spent her entire life catering to Dad and me, creating domestic chores like a lifeline. And though she always said aloud that she was proud of my success, deep down I wondered. Instead of trying to support me through my struggles as a single mother, she turned to her skills as a master guilt-trip artist and exposed all my own crippling doubts. Did she resent my choice to become a career woman? To raise Allegra without a father figure? Or did she wonder what type of life she would've had if she'd embraced more than the four walls of her home?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI'd never know. We rarely got into deep conversations. It was easier to stick to mundane topics and trick ourselves into believing we had a connection-the sacred mother-daughter bond that movies love to exploit in sickening, shallow sweetness. I preferred the truth, even though it sometimes tasted bitter.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304459784421,"sku":"NP9780593098462","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593098462.jpg?v=1767734330","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/our-italian-summer-isbn-9780593098462","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}