I laugh softly, and fall in love just a little bit. But not with the girl. As I look back and prepare to pull away, blue lights flash in the rear-view mirror, and my stomach flips. Behind me is a police car. A police sports car, and I have a sense of horribly mounting dread that he's just followed me down a mountain while I was trying to impress a girl who blatantly now thinks I'm nuts. Not speaking any Italian, I ask Cristina to intercede on my behalf. As she sashays over to the carabinieri car and occupies their full attention, I... sort of... leave. Not the most gallant of actions, I have to admit, but fair's fair. Cristina may be sweet. But the 458 Spider has turned out to be more my kind of supermodel. And I'm sure my wife would agree.