HER FINGERS BRUSHED over the pendant.
A warmth swirled in her chest.
She told herself not to read too much into the friendly gesture. Enzo didn’t want attachments—in fact, he was doing his best to minimize his commitments in life with the sale of the estate. She’d do well to remember that. Her hand lowered to her side.
They’d made their way through a number of stores. In a secondhand shop, she found some crystal vases. And then in a florist shop, she found some dried flowers that were stunning. There were vivid reds and deep purples as well as ivory flowers. In addition, she picked out some fresh arrangements. Considering the magazine people would be there the following day, the flowers would just be blooming when she got them home.
She turned to Enzo, who was standing by the door as though anxious to move on. While the sales clerk packed her purchases, Sylvie approached Enzo. He looked totally bored out of his mind.
She held out a fresh bouquet of deep purple and white blooms. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “They’re fine.”
Not the ringing endorsement she’d been hoping for, but she supposed it’d have to do. “Do you like the other things I picked out?” When he nodded, she asked, “Do you even know what colors I picked?”
“Pink?”
She sighed. For a man who spent most of his time dealing with grapes and vines, his interest certainly didn’t extend to flora and fauna. “No. Reds and purples.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Don’t worry, we’re almost done.” And that was when her gaze skimmed past him to the notice just over his shoulder. It was an ad for an apartment.
She initially dismissed it. But as she turned to walk away, she realized Enzo hadn’t given her any real reason to believe he was going to change his mind about keeping the estate. If she didn’t take this situation seriously, she’d end up homeless again. Having gone through that situation once, she wasn’t about to let it happen again—especially when she was in a position to prevent it.
She turned back and read the write-up again, paying attention to the details. One bedroom. Pets allowed. The thought of coming home to a dog or cat appealed to her. Her gaze latched on to the rent. It was affordable. Very affordable.
When she realized the apartment was right above the florist, she knew she couldn’t leave here until she saw it. The posting said to inquire at the desk and that was exactly what she intended to do.
“I’ll be back,” she said to Enzo.
“Where are you going?”
“To see an apartment.” That was unless it was already taken. She hoped not because it fit in her tight budget. She had a decent amount in savings, but she really hated to rely on it to live. So modesty was the course of action until she secured a job. The next item on her to-do list.
“An apartment? What apartment?”
She didn’t stop to answer him. She was a lady on a mission. But she could hear his footsteps behind her. She came to a stop at the checkout counter. The young man who’d been waiting on her was gone, so he likely had stepped into the back.
Enzo leaned close to her. “Why are you interested in an apartment?”
“Why do you think?”
“Well, I know what you do with an apartment, but what I don’t understand is why you would want one here. I thought you’d return to Patazonia.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have any reason to return. My mother was my only family and now that she’s gone, I’m on my own. I like it here and I’ve made some contacts here in Florence. I’m hoping to be able to find a job here.”
Enzo grew noticeably quiet. Did he feel bad that she had to search for a new home? It didn’t stop her from talking to the young man, who said the apartment was vacant. The sales clerk handed over the key and told them to head upstairs to have a look.
And that was exactly what they did. The apartment wasn’t anything fancy, not at all. It was older and could use a fresh coat of paint, but it was clean and with a little work it could be cozy enough.
“You know the kitchen faucet is going to need replaced,” Enzo pointed out.
“I’ll mention it to the landlord.”
“And the bedroom door sticks.”
She didn’t say anything as Enzo continued to point out the apartment’s faults, but all she could see was its possibilities. She needed this to work out. She needed a plan—a way to move forward.
There was a ledge above the kitchen sink where the morning sun would come in. There were small shelves on the walls of the living room where she could place the framed photo of her mother and a picture of her favorite spot by the stream on the Bartolini estate. Little by little she could put her personal stamp on the place, making it feel homey like…like the home she already had in Enzo’s guesthouse.
Thoughts of leaving the estate made her sad. She couldn’t believe how quickly she’d felt so comfortable there. Maybe it was the country setting or maybe it was her handsome host. Her gaze moved to Enzo as he examined the closet. She was going to miss him—sharing meals with him, morning coffee out on the veranda and their talks.
Tears rushed to her eyes. She blinked them away. She was not a crier, but ever since she’d learned she was losing her home and business, her emotions had been harder to conceal.
“Are you ready to go?” Enzo asked.
She gave the tiny apartment one more look, still not ready to commit to this new future. She nodded her head. “Let’s go home.”
With the flowers collected and stowed in the car, Enzo drove them back to the vineyard while Sylvie stared out the window at the beautiful scenery. But it wasn’t the tall Cypress trees lining the road or the rolling hills that captured her attention; it was the war raging within her between sticking out her plan to convince Enzo to change his mind about the estate or cutting her losses and moving to Florence now. The sooner she got there, the sooner she’d accept the reality of her situation—she had no future with Enzo.
She focused her thoughts on what was awaiting her in Florence. The location of the apartment was superb as it was in the heart of the city. And best of all, it was furnished. Old furniture, but it appeared to be well taken care of. All the money she’d save with the low rent and not having to buy furniture would help stretch her savings until she landed a job.
But she also realized she’d been the one responsible for inviting the magazine to the estate. She had to stay and see this through until the end. And then she would move on—no matter how hard it would be for her.