THIRTEEN

watched me as I discarded my breakfast pots in the sink, heading towards the kitchen door.

"To get dressed," I smiled, turning towards him. I would never get used to the way his midnight eyes followed me everywhere, I was sure of it. I pushed his knees apart gently and stood between them, running my hands up his arms until they came to rest on his shoulders. "I have to get up and do something. Sitting around and waiting for you to come home every day is killing me."

"Do something like what?" he wondered, frowning slightly.

My stomach shifted nervously. The other day Arturo had finally agreed to me getting a job, but his temperament wasn't known for being consistent. I slid a finger beneath the red elastic of his braces and tugged on them. Instead of focusing on the intensity of his gaze, I watched his chest rise and fall evenly.

"Florence," he persisted, tilting my chin up.

"I was going to look for a job," I admitted. "Like you said I could."

Arturo held my gaze quietly for a moment. I swear my heart had worked its way right up to my mouth - if it beat any harder, it would explode. Then he nodded sharply, and his hands settled on my hips where they drew delicate circles.

"Marco will drive you wherever you need to go."

"That's not necessary," I beamed, removing my hands from his body and my thighs from between his. His fingers had already found the sensitive bundles of nerves that surrounded my hipbones; if I didn't move soon it could end disastrously.

"I would rather someone took you."

"I can drive myself," I pointed out, but my argument remained unfinished as the kitchen door swung open.

Sofia entered with a travel bag on one arm and a coat on the other. She wore a beautiful red scarf around her neck and dark, stylish sunglasses despite being inside. She looked like some sort of fashion model on her way to a lucrative photo shoot in Paris. I simply stared in awe, frozen, as she breezed across the room. It wasn't until she reached for the door handle that I snapped out of my daze.

"Where are you going?" I demanded a little too forcefully. She wasn't even my sister, yet I felt personally insulted that she could walk away without a word.

She paused but did not turn around. "Home."

"To Italy?" I asked, "why?"

"Arturo was right. Staying would only mean prolonging the inevitable."

"But you don't have to go," I argued, glancing furiously from Arturo to Sofia. Arturo did not look the slightest bit affected by the news. In fact, I bet he was glad to hear it.

"I have to go back to him eventually. There is no choice in the matter." She bustled through the door before I had the opportunity to argue any further, and for a moment the silence in the kitchen rang through my ears. Then I turned to Arturo angrily.

"Aren't you going to stop her?" I snapped, gesturing towards the door that was just swinging shut.

"She wanted to leave," he shrugged. "Who am I to stop her?"

"Are you joking?"

"Do I look like I am?"

"You...you - I can't believe you! Aren't you at least going to say goodbye? Aren't you going to say anything?" My hands slapped against my hips angrily. The way he just sat there like Sofia was popping out to the shops made annoyance flare in my chest, but I wasn't just annoyed, I was furious.

"Sofia is an adult. She can make her own decisions."

"She's only going because you made her feel unwelcome," I spat. When Arturo remained unaffected, I tried a different tack, softening my voice and making my eyes go wide. "You promised me last night she could stay for a few weeks, until your mum's birthday."

At this his attention seemed to peak. He stared at me hard for a minute or two, as if weighing up a decision. Then his expression softened and he gestured towards the door. "The offer still stands."

I was out of the door in a flash, running through the house to find Sofia. I knew that her staying would only prolong the inevitable, but that didn't change my determination. The thought of sending her back to Salvo for any longer than necessary was a thought I didn't want to entertain.

I found her stood outside the front of the house. Her phone was pressed between her shoulder and cheek as she rummaged in her travel bag for something. I tuned in to her conversation and stood quietly behind.

"What do you mean a cab won't be free for thirty minutes?!" she practically snarled down the phone. Her accent had become thicker with annoyance. "That simply isn't possible," she continued, "do you know who I am?"

"Sofia," I called gently from the doorway.

She turned around and shut her phone off with a sigh, but did not put it away. It hung in her hand by her side as if threatening that she wasn't finished.

"You don't have to leave," I told her.

"I do."

"Arturo promised me you could stay for two weeks more," I continued, more urgently now. I took a step closer and reached for her travel bag but she pulled it out of my reach. "Please."

"He doesn't want me here," she said, voice slightly mournful. She quickly recovered, however, and continued flatly. "I need to go."

"What harm could two weeks do?" I pressed.

For half a second Sofia looked torn. I saw the way her cherry red lips quirked up to the side, like she was sucking on a sour sweet. Her eyes were hidden by jet-black glasses, but beneath I bet they, too, had closed in contemplation.

"There is no reason for me to stay," she said eventually, with a shrug.

"And there's also no reason for you to go. Please." I was willing to get on my knees and beg, if I had to.

Thankfully, such histrionics were not necessary. Sofia put her phone away into her bag and then lifted the sunglasses on top of her head. Her soft brown eyes met mine.

"Two weeks," she said firmly.

"Two weeks," I nodded.

Arturo didn't look the least bit surprised when we both entered the kitchen again. In fact, he looked smug as he sipped on his coffee.

"So you're staying," he said with a faint smirk.

"Two weeks," Sofia shot back abruptly. "Only two weeks."

She stood in the doorway looking as though the decision had not yet solidified in her head. Perhaps this was the playful side of sibling rivalry I hadn't yet seen from the two of them; to Sofia, coming back in was like giving up.

"Sofia can help you with your job hunt today, Florence," Arturo suggested. "She knows New York better than you."

I glanced sideways at Sofia to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were fixed to the floor.

"You don't have to," I quickly dismissed the idea. I didn't want her to see me as a burden pushed onto her by Arturo. I could imagine better things to do than chaperoning someone else around on a job hunt.

I also found it a little frustrating the way Arturo kept denying me my independence.

Sofia sat down on a kitchen stool and stole Arturo's coffee, drinking the last dregs before he had time to snatch it back. She smirked as he glared at the bright red lipstick stain she'd left on the mug.

"I'm going to get dressed," I muttered, slipping away before anyone else could suggest a way of following me around.

I decided to shower before changing so that I would feel fully prepared and presentable. I had to find a job today. Even if it meant walking for hours, even if it seemed impossible. Anything was better than lazing around someone else's house and latching on to them like a leech.

I didn't want to be a leech. I wanted to be a strong, independent social butterfly.

As soon as I pushed open the bathroom door the room became illuminated. I undressed and switched on the shower, after several attempts at fiddling with the complicated buttons. Hot water gushed deliciously over my skin and I shivered from the sudden increase in temperature. There was something awe inspiring about showering right next to Mother Nature. It had taken me a while to get used to the large glass wall of Arturo's bathroom; at first I felt exposed, but now the sight of the pine trees soothed me. They provided protection from the eyes of the outside world.

As I washed my skin with rose scented soap (presumably Arturo had done a little shopping for me, which I found touching), memories of last night flooded my mind, and the sweet melody Arturo had played started up inside my head. I would never forget it - nor the way he had looked at me - in the dark glow of moonlight. Like he would never look at anybody else.

His touch ignited me. Even remembering his fingers slowly circling my hipbones sent goosebumps shivering across my skin. I brushed them away with more soap until soon I was completely relaxed.

Outside, I heard the roar of an engine, signalling that Arturo had left for the day. I shut off the shower and wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, taking just a second longer to revel in the hot, steamy air of the bathroom.

Then a horrible realisation dawned on me. All of my clothes and belongings were half way across the world, in England. The only outfit I had was the one I had come in - but that was long overdue for a wash. I had been wearing Arturo's shirts for days. And now I was naked - but for a scanty towel.

Dread germinating in my chest, I opened the door into the bedroom, trying to think of a way around my situation. Thankfully, there was no need. Sofia was sat on the edge of Arturo's bed filing her already perfectly manicured nails. She looked up and set the file down when she saw me.

"Arturo said you'd need to borrow some clothes," she explained with a wistful smile. "So I brought you some choices."

I glanced to the bed where a whole host of different outfits had been laid out. They were all on red silk hangers, reminding me of the time I had spent in the casino working for Arturo. That was so long ago, the thought made me smile a little with fondness.

"This is incredible," I beamed, trying to convey just how grateful I felt. Sofia could easily have refused to help me, but instead she had come through with full force.

"Let's start with this-" She threw a red dress at me that I promptly held up to my body. It was fitted, but loose enough to be work-appropriate, with long sleeves and a heart shaped neckline. It came to rest just above my knees. Sofia took approximately .5 seconds to shake her head. "No, no, that's not right." She rummaged through the other clothes she'd brought along and retrieved a dark green blouse with a black pencil skirt. This time she didn't even hand it to me - she simply held it up, squinted, then shook her head. "Wrong."

"I'm sure it doesn't matter that much..." I trailed off, but Sofia cut me off with a sharp tsk.

"Florence, it matters," she assured me, passing over the next item for me to try. It was a dark green dress, an earthy green, cut in the same way as the red one I tried on first. I'd hardly even shifted it into position when a bright look filled Sofia's eyes. A smile almost curved her lips, but she seemed to control it, pulling them into a line. Her hand shot out and gestured to the bathroom door. "Try it on."

I came out a few minutes later and the look on Sofia's face told me everything I needed to know. It was a wicked look.

"That's the dress," she said coolly. "The dress."

The moment she grinned I couldn't help but let one spread across my face too. "Really?" I wondered, running my hands down the sides. "And you're sure about the colour?"

"I'm sure about everything."