He actually smiles at this. “I do not want this house. The repairs will cost more than the house is worth.”
“Well then, what kind of arrangements are you talking about?"
"We will discuss that later. For now, I simply wanted to make you aware of the situation."
He reaches into his jacket, and for one terrifying moment I think he's going for a weapon, but pulls out a business card instead. Heavy cardstock, expensive printing, just his name and a phone number.
"When you are ready to discuss terms, call me. Soon."
He places the card on my overturned camping chair and heads for the door, moving with that same confident stride that brought him here.
"Wait!" I call after him. "You can't just drop this on me and leave! I have questions! I need answers! Hold up a minute."
He pauses at the door and turns back to me. "You have time to consider your options, Signorina Sullivan. I am not an unreasonable man."
"How much time?"
"Enough."
And then he's gone, leaving me alone in my disaster house with a business card and a debt I can’t pay. Not now, not ever.
I sink onto the floor because my legs won't hold me up anymore, and stare at the business card like it might spontaneously combust and solve all my problems.
This can't be real. This can't be legal. This can't be happening.
But the card is real enough, heavy and expensive in my shaking hands. And the memory of those eyes, that calm voice, that subtle threat, all of it feels very, very real.
I came to Sicily to start over, to take risks, to prove I could handle anything life threw at me.
Apparently, life was listening.
And it has a very twisted sense of humor.
Chapter 4: Enzo
I give her exactly three hours before she calls.
Three hours to let the reality of her situation sink in, to realize that her options are limited and her resources are nonexistent. Three hours to understand that this isn't a problem she can solve with American optimism and determination.
When my phone rings, I let it go to voicemail first. Never appear too eager, even when dealing with amateurs.
The message she leaves is exactly what I expected: "Hi, Mr. Benedetti, this is Maddie Sullivan. About our conversation earlier, I think there might be some kind of misunderstanding. Could you call me back? I'd like to discuss this further."
Still thinking this is a negotiation.
I wait another hour before returning her call, timing it perfectly so she's had even longer to worry.
"Signorina Sullivan." I keep my voice professional.
"Oh, thank God! I mean, thank you for calling back." She sounds relieved, like she was afraid I might disappear entirely. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I believe we can work something out."
"I'm listening."
"Well, first, I want to verify the debt. I mean, I need to see some kind of documentation. Loan agreements, payment records, something that proves Giuseppe actually borrowed this money."
Reasonable request. Unfortunately for her, reasonableness is irrelevant here.
"Giuseppe's word was sufficient," I repeat. "His reputation in this community was his collateral."
