Page 17 of The Fall Affair

Warmth spread through my belly. “That’s only because you haven’t seen it explode yet. My hair has this special talent of drying in all directions at once.”

“I’m sure it look bellissimi.”

“How was your day in Florence?”

He frowned. “I hate the big city. Too many people.”

On the plane ride over, I’d read that Florence had approximately 380,000 residents. “You’d hate where I live then. I’m pretty sure my building has roughly the same occupancy as your big city.”

“New York, yes?”

I nodded.

He shook his head. “I went once. I felt like that place was trying to kill me.”

I smiled. “That means she liked you. If you’re not feeling a little on edge, you didn’t experience her properly.”

Matteo lifted a brow. “Her? New York, it’s a she?”

“Of course. She’s that thirty-five-year-old single aunt who the moms with kids are envious of. She wears stilettos to brunch, swears like a sailor, and can parallel park like a pro while simultaneously cursing out a messenger on a bike.”

Matteo laughed. It was a deep, hearty rumble that I liked very much. Maybe too much. So it was time to go.

“Thank you for the use of your shower. I called two plumbers from my grandmother’s address book today, so hopefully I’ll have my own soon enough.”

“Who did you phone?”

“One was Sal and the other was Giuseppe, I think. My nonna’s script is beautiful but not the easiest to read.”

“Sal is gone. Married a Croatian and moved to Dubrovnik. Giuseppe is a good plumber, but he drinks a too much. Doesn’t get much work done anymore. You will be lucky if he calls you back.”

“Oh.” My shoulders slumped. “Would you have any plumbers to recommend?”

“No. But I can put a new tub for you.”

I waved my hands. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

He shook his head. “You did not ask.”

We were in the middle of rolling hills wine country, two and a half hours from the nearest big city. I wasn’t sure it would be so easy to find someone, and I really didn’t want to live without a shower. I chewed my lip. “Can I at least pay you for the day?”

Matteo frowned. “That is an insult.”

“How is it an insult?”

“That’s not how we do business here in Toscana. We help each other, not pay money.”

“Well, what can I help you with in return?”

He stroked his chin. “What skills do you have?”

“I’m a lawyer, so I’m really good at arguing.”

“I’m not sure I need someone to fight my battles. What else?”

I thought about it. I’d spent the last six years working eighteen hours a day, so there hadn’t been much time for sharpening other skills. “Umm… I’m really good at spotting a fake designer handbag.”

His lip quirked. “Be ready at six. You help me, and then we take a break and see about getting you a new tub.”