Page 116 of The English Bookstore in Bologna

Bianca tried not to think about what it would be like to wake up to a cup of his coffee every morning, but that’s exactly what she thought about. Waking up to him, to his coffee, to his . . .

She better get on with it. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m not good at this kind of thing, relationships.”

The air grew thin.

He slipped into the chair opposite her at the table, moved a potted plant out of the way, and waited for more.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

He grinned. “Say what? I’ve no idea what’s on your mind.”

Her pulse pounded in her wrists.

“Can we try again? That’s what I’m trying to say.” His silence forced more words to tumble out. “A real try, where I don’t run out on you.” She set all five finger pads onto the table. “But I do feel like I need to come with a disclaimer. I can’t promise that I’ll be perfect. There’s so much going on in my head right now. I mean, I’m getting better. Being here has been so good for me, but I have a long way to go. Still, you seem to want something, so let’s go. Let’s give it a shot.”

Silence.

“Fucking say something, I can’t handle this . . . this whatever it is you’re doing.”

Corrado cupped his mug with his hands. He stopped and started a few times, then finally let it out. “We all have a long way to go, Bianca, but you seem to be waiting till you get there to live. Your book taught me so much about you . . .”

“Oh, God, please don’t bring up the book.” The reminder of her agent dumping her cut fresh wounds into her psyche.

“Why can’t I bring up the book? It’s important to what I’m trying to say. You said Peggy Meh was a placeholder, right? It’s funny, because that’s sort of how she lives her life till the end. And I think that’s how you’re living too. You’ve put a placeholder in your life, while you go searching for yourself, while you’re trying to realize yourself. You have to live now, you know, while you’re searching.”

“I am living now. That’s the reason I’m here. In Bologna. To get back to who I used to be.”

“I appreciate that. And I’ve asked you this before. Do you realize that your book is truly autobiographical?”

“Um, it’s definitely not autobiographical. Peggy’s an insane conglomeration of all the clients I’ve worked with over the years.”

He nodded with a cocky air that said that he was right, that he didn’t need to keep arguing. Which pissed her off.

“Fine, please elaborate, Corrado.” These days everyone had a fucking psych degree. Rather dramatically, she held out both hands and motioned for him to bring it on.

“Back to the placeholder reference, you’re refusing to start living, start loving, until you’ve become your supercharged self. When will that be, Bianca?”

She shook her head, not ready to be psychoanalyzed today. “Look, Corrado, I didn’t come here for a fifty-minute session.”

He put his hands in prayer position. “I’m saying this, Bianca, because I care about you. But I can’t be with you. I don’t want to dwell in this waiting room where life is put on hold. To be honest, I like Bianca Meh more than I do Bianca Megawatt. At least she’s real.”

Wasn’t it funny that things that seemed so obvious could elude you if you were too deep into it? His placeholder point was well taken. The question hitting her now was: Did anyone on planet Earth want to become so fully charged? Wasn’t chasing such an idea exactly what had led to her breakdown?

Wait, was that what Donna Bologna meant by getting something wrong? How had she not seen it before? The problem wasn’t her writing; it was that she’d made turning into Bianca Megawatt her goal. No one needed supercharging!

Hold on.

The placeholder thing. Donna Bologna had said that if you let bread rise too long, it collapses. It was time to stick herself into the oven of life. Is this what she was talking about? That tricky little witch.

Bianca tried to swallow with a dry mouth.

Corrado brought her back. “I’ve wanted to say this since we were at the restaurant. I wondered why you ran out, and then it all made sense.”

She nodded slowly, taking it all in. So much for the follow-up that she’d been kicking around: From Hot Mess to High Voltage.

Ultimately, no matter what she realized in this moment, he was still dumping her.

Without finishing her cappuccino, she stood and said, “I’m going to go.”