The Italian

I’m so flat today, and I know it’s stupid. Why on earth would I let an asshole upset me so much? I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. What does his opinion matter, anyway?

I hate that it does.

“So, we’re nearly done,” Seraphina says, interrupting my thoughts as she looks around her office. She’s wearing a fitted woolen plum dress and knee-high black boots. She’s channeling Sophia Loren today. “What else do you want to know? Have I forgotten to tell you anything?”

I exhale. “Seraphina, can I even do this job?” I whisper. “I’m so nervous about it. What if I mess this up?”

She smiles at me and takes my hands in hers. “Listen to me, Olivia. You are going to be wonderful at this. You know what you’re doing, I’ve been watching you.”

Seraphina has been a big surprise. She’s smart, kind, and supportive—not at all like the sex kitten I had her pegged as.

“I wish you weren’t leaving.” I sigh. “You’re the only person I like around here.”

She giggles as she begins to pack up her desk. “I know but love calls. When in Rome and all that.”

I watch her for a moment, wondering if it’s him. Is her fiancé Enrico? I bet it is. I bet it’s a strange coincidence that has been sent to test my sanity. Why wouldn’t he fall madly in love with her? She’s all kinds of wonderful.

Just ask her. “What’s your fiancé’s name?”

“You’ll meet him in a minute. He’s collecting me from downstairs.”

I stare at her. “He’s coming… here?”

“Yes, so grab that box and carry it down for me.”

I feel faint. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Everyone else has already gone. Let’s go.” She smiles as she takes one last look around.

I pick up one of her boxes with my heart hammering in my chest. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see him with her.

We get into the elevator, and she smiles and talks, while I stare at her, crippled by fear.

Please don’t be him, please don’t be him, I begin to chant in my head.

The doors open, and we walk out into the foyer. My heart d

rops. Two men are standing with their backs to us.

I follow Seraphina over to them, and then she turns to me. “Olivia, this is Johnathan my fiancé, and his brother Marcus.”

I look up at Marcus and he smiles and shakes my hand. “Hello, Olivia.”

“Hi.” I smile, grateful as he takes the box from me.

It’s not him.

Seraphina kisses my cheek. “Good luck, I’ll call you Monday morning.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye!” they call as Seraphina, her fiancé, and his brother disappear out of the front doors.

I slump against the wall. Thank God.

* * *

“Olivia!” I turn to see Giorgio, my boss. He’s wearing black business pants and a cream shirt with the top few buttons undone at the top. His honey hair is perfectly styled. He really is lovely.