“No one has ever done the things for me that you have. Why are you so kind to me?” she asked, but the question sounded odd even to her ears. It wasn’t so difficult to understand why Andrea might go out of his way to help her if they were friends. But they weren’t friends anymore. They were something else now. And all of this was helping her but also taking her away from here. This, she realized, staring at Andrea as he reached into his pocket for one of those damned Biochetasi tablets, was a mess. Officially.
“I don’t have to think too hard about why I want to be kind to you, Lora. I just do.”
She squinted at him, the low sun shining into the windows behind his head, and felt that stone-sinking feeling again.
“Thank you anyway,” she said, looking down. Later she’d tell herself that it was the sun that caused the stinging in her eyes.
Giada placed a hand on her arm as Andrea walked out of the café. Lora closed her laptop and slid it into her bag, suddenly too exhausted to sit and be social.
“It’s going to be OK,” said Giada.
“He said he made a phone call that he shouldn’t. What did he mean?” Lora asked, not expecting an answer.
“Oh. Theprefettodoes not like him. He thinks he’s too young and too American. He didn’t want to accept him when he submit his documents to become mayor,” she said. Lora’s face fell. “Don’t worry. He’ll fix it. He always does.”
Chapter 21
As soon as Lora got home, she whipped open her computer to call Vilmari. It was noon on a Friday and Lora thought she might not be home, but she answered right away with a concerned face. Lora told her everything about the documents and her omission of her middle name. Vilmari laughed for almost a minute straight and asked if maybe they’d like her to hand over a cheek swab so that they could match her DNA until Lora told her that she wasn’t joking.
“But the definition of an initial is, and I quote, ‘the first letter of a person’s name,’” Vilmari said, looking at the dictionary app on her phone. “That means there’s a name. Who would name someone a letter?”
“Harry S. Truman’s parents.”
“TheSdoesn’t stand for anything? Stanley? Stuart? Sebastián?”
“JustS,” said Lora, turning away from her laptop to fill a glass with water.
“OK, so they may have had a point. But how were yousupposed to know? And now what? Do you have to start all over again?” Vilmari asked, pulling her long glossy hair out from the neck of her bathrobe. She often worked from home but was usually a stickler about putting on real clothing to do it. Maybe she just got out of the shower?
“No, Andrea basically stuck his neck out for me and had a very, let’s sayemphaticconversation with theprefettoof Genova, who hates him and will probably ruin his career, by the way, so that he will talk to the immigration officer who is managing the case.”
“That’s great! What a hero that guy is, seriously.”
“He is. And I’m awful,” she said, her face crumpling.
“Wait, what? Why are you saying that…” Vilmari trailed off, watching her face. Lora knew that even from four thousand miles away and on video coming through satellite internet, Vilmari would read her as clear as if she’d written her thoughts out on a whiteboard. “Oh, shit. You slept with him.”
Lora leaned on her elbows and sat her chin in her hands. She nodded.
“And I like him,” Lora admitted.
“That’s good! Oh, wait, that’s not good.” Vilmari frowned.
“Nope.”
“Because you’re leaving there in a matter of weeks.”
“Yup. And I’m guilty—”
“Because you know he likes you too! And yet he has to do this thing that helps you leave. Oh man, this is a Brontë-levelrevolú.”
“Thanks for reminding me that this is a mess, but I am very much aware that it’s a mess. I thought we said this wouldbe just a vacation thing! Something with no strings that would be over quick!”
“I’m sorry to tell you that vacation hookups don’t always end when the vacation does. Everyone knows this. It’s like you’ve never seenThe Holiday!”
“Well, I didn’t know,” said Lora. “And I didn’t expect this. I was supposed to get here, get it done, and get out.”
“You got it done all right,” Vilmari said with a grin.
