Page 27 of The English Bookstore in Bologna

She thought she better drop an ice cube into the sparkling water before it went to boiling. “Enough about me. I’m assuming you went to culinary school, then Paris. Carol says you’re going after a Michelin star?”

He laughed, clearly because he knew she was avoiding his confession. And he allowed it. He caught her up on his past, including a bad breakup with a website developer, then added, “And that’s right, a new restaurant opening in six weeks. A few blocks from here, a great space.”

“I still remember your scrambled eggs,” she said.

“I make them even better now,” he said, the corners of his mouth flickering. “Butter and eggs in the pan before I even turn on the stove. Then low, low heat. You have to be so gentle.”

“No,” Bianca said, shaking her head at him. They were right back where they’d left off. “Don’t even try.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything.” His evident joy was maddening.

“Look, it’s so good to see you, but I’m not looking for anything right now.”

His eyebrows crinkled. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“What did I say? My God, you’re confident. Seriously, I’m . . . the last thing I’m looking for is a relationship.” On top of her father coming? Get out of here.

“Why put labels on it? I want to see you again. We could go to church if you like. Or a museum.”

“Right. A harmless museum.”

“Exactly. We could go see the Michelangelo eagle, the one you liked so much.”

“How do you remember that?”

He tapped his head. “I remember a lot about you. You broke my heart.”

What felt like an hour passed, neither of them blinking.

“No,” Bianca finally said. “Don’t try to charm me. Actually, my dad’s coming in tomorrow morning from Arizona, so I need to give him my full attention. He’s not doing very well.”

“I’m sorry, is he sick?”

“No, worse. At least for him. He’s retired, and it’s crushing him.”

“If I can be of service, let me know.”

“Thanks. The issue is that he’s always trying to fix things, so I can only imagine how much worse it’s gotten. I suspect I’ll be ripe for fixing, as far as he’s concerned.”

“At least he cares.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

They danced around the topic for a bit, then Corrado said, “By the way, where can I find your book? I’d love to read it.”

He did know she was a writer, which meant he’d been keeping tabs on her. A flush of delight ran through her.

But then he added, “Carol told me.”

Guess not.

Bianca instantly blushed, mortified by what he was doing to her. “It’s probably not your type of book; a female-focused self-help thing. You’re not exactly the target audience. I mean, I could give you one if you really—”

“I would. I want to jump into the head of my old friend Bianca. See what she’s done with her life. From Meh to Megawatt, right? Does this mean you are now supercharged?”

She gave him the eye. “Don’t pick on me.”

“I think it’s wonderful, my supercharged American pal.”