FOURTEEN

cool - decidedly cooler than it had been the other day in the parking lot of the diner. Sofia drove, which I was grateful for; I didn't know the city like she did, and trying to navigate would have been just another thing to worry about.

We had already visited two different law firms we happened upon by chance - both of which had told me, strictly, that they were not hiring. When I pushed my resume towards them across the front desk their looks had been less than approving - along with their less than convincing promises to give my details a look over. I had a feeling two copies had already made their way into the bin.

"Maybe this was a stupid idea," I sighed, turning the heating up. How had I ever thought I'd be able to waltz into a business and simply ask for a job? Especially considering the fact that I was trained in English law, and would need to take the bar in America before I could fully practice. Thankfully, New York was pretty lax about permitting foreign lawyers, so I didn't need to carry out any additional years of university like I would have in other states.

"It wasn't a stupid idea," Sofia kindly assured me. She offered a smile that made her eyes crinkle at the corners. "If they actually looked at your resume they'd realise that turning you away is a mistake."

"Unfortunately they don't quite see it that way," I said with a wry smile.

As we crept along the New York traffic, my mind began to wander back to Arturo. I was grateful that he had let Sofia stay, but it still baffled me that he was so hesitant to do so. In fact, his entire family dynamic was something that perplexed me. His father seemed terrifying; I knew that much from the tone people adopted when speaking about him. But I wondered what his mother was like - kind, soft, or thick-skinned as this world so often required.

"Everything okay?" Sofia asked as we took a right turn down a busier looking street. The buildings here were much more grandiose and businesslike.

"I'm fine," I assured.

"Thinking about Arturo?"

I would have been embarrassed by her assessment but I could hear the smile behind her voice.

"About something he said, actually," I corrected lightly.

"Oh?"

"About your Mum's birthday, when he said you have to leave," I hedged. "Do you, er, know if he will be going, too?"

Sofia shot me a sympathetic glance, but said nothing. She didn't need to. The answer was written plainly on her face: yes.

"I see," I mumbled quietly, turning my head away so that she could not see my disappointment. I could understand that he would want to see his mother on her birthday, but that didn't make it sting any less that the invitation hadn't been extended to me. Arturo and I were together: we had chosen to be. Surely that counted for something. Would he keep me hidden away from his family forever? Is this how it would always be?

I tried not to let doubts creep into my mind, but it was difficult. My exclusion was a sharp wound that stung, making me question the motives behind it. Was Arturo embarrassed by me? Was he not as invested in us as he claimed to be?

"You're overthinking," Sofia assessed. "Stop it. You already know how complicated Arturo is; our whole family is a thousand times worse. In Italy, you have no idea...well, how complicated everything is."

"That's the problem," I sighed, "I don't know."

"I'm told patience is a virtue." We turned off down another road and the car began to slow. "I wouldn't know, but that's what I'm told. We're here."

"What?"

"The next place," she inclined her head out of the window towards the grand building towering above us. The rotating glass doors were hooded by an outstretched rectangle of royal blue, forming a porch. Engraved on that material, as well as the doors, was a beautiful emblem of a fierce, roaring lion beneath which the letters VDB sat in a cursive font.

Feeling my eyes widening with surprise and apprehension, I turned to Sofia.

"Van Der Bilt lawyers, one of the finest firms in New York," she informed me coolly.

"And I'm supposed to go in there and just ask them for a job?" I asked incredulously. The sharp note of panic was edging its way into my tone.

"You're not asking," Sofia elaborated, "you're applying. They've already advertised a job. I had a quick look on the internet before we set off and saw the ad. They want a young grad who they're willing to help train, e.g. with the bar. You're welcome."

"Simple as that," I muttered, shaking my head.

"Exactly."

Clearly she hadn't picked up on my sarcasm.

"This is a ridiculous idea," I complained, watching two people emerge from inside the grandiose building. One was a woman dressed in a charcoal pencil skirt and blazer, whilst the second was a man in an immaculate navy suit. Beneath the woman's arm she held a clipboard like it was a weapon, and the man carried a sleek leather brief case. They paused underneath the blue porch area and took cigarettes from within the woman's purse, sparking them up underneath the dull grey sky. Even from a distance, it was clear to see that they were in the midst of a heated discussion.

"There's no way they'll give me the job," I groaned. Suddenly the resume I held in my hands felt as though it had been scribbled with crayons.

"Florence," Sofia said pointedly, "shut up. You have a degree from Cambridge University, you work hard and you always have. They won't turn you away."

"Okay, fine." I picked up my bag from the footwell of the car and grabbed the door handle. "When they do turn me down, you owe me a gin and tonic. In fact, you owe me two to drown my sorrows."

"Go," Sofia commanded, shooing me out of the car.

With one last deep breath, I threw open the door and stepped out in to the brisk air. Heavy droplets of rain were just beginning to leak out of the fat clouds above, staining the ground with a polka dot pattern. I dashed across the pavement and up the semicircular, concentric steps that led towards Van Der Bilt & Co. Lawyers, eager to escape the rain.

The man and woman glanced in my direction as I reached the top of the stairs; their expressions were neither warm nor welcoming. I shook off the anxiety that was snaking around my chest and stepped into the revolving doors. Emerging on the other side, the sight that met my eyes was no less intimidating.

The whole first floor of the building was bright and open. A marble floor glistened under the bright lights above, and the main focus of the room was the front desk at the back. It was a long, sweeping counter made of cherry wood, behind which sat three different receptionists typing away on their computers. The perimeter of the room was marked by occasional busts of important looking men and women, made eternal in their white marble glory.

I made a beeline for one of the receptionists and clenched my jaw shut with nausea.

"Good morning," he greeted professionally. "What can we help you with?"

I opened my mouth but no words came out. The receptionist's name badge read Johnny. I focused on the tiny letters, hard, until everything else disappeared and at last I could speak.

"I'm here to apply for the job," I said, my voice coming out surprisingly calmly.

Johnny stared and blinked. "Which one?"

"Which one?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yes," he nodded, clarifying, "which job were you hoping to apply for?"

"Oh...."

"The position of one of our lawyers?" he suggested, and I nodded eagerly. "May I see your resume, miss-"

"Genovese," I smiled brightly, pulling out the neatly folded document. I placed it on the counter and slid it towards Johnny, who picked it up and began inspecting it. His frown deepened as his eyes swept down the page.

"You have limited work experience," he said, looking up. "Obviously you still need to take the American bar." His eyes lit up when he saw my university. "Cambridge. Impressive."

"Is it a problem that I haven't taken the bar yet?" I wondered, suddenly regretting allowing Sofia to talk me into this.

Johnny raised his eyebrows and sighed heavily. His eyes flitted back to my resume. "Well...we don't usually hire people with less than five years' experience and a stellar track record."

"My track record is stellar," I argued.

"Because it doesn't exist."

Ouch. Sofia would have to owe me more than two drinks after this - she'd have to give me a whole year's supply of them.

"I see," I mumbled, reaching out a hand to take back the paper I had given him. Johnny hesitated, but eventually relinquished his grip.

"I'm sorry, Miss Genovese," he apologised sincerely.

I gave a small nod and turned away from the desk, throwing my resume back into my bag whilst trying to keep moving. The paper snagged on the zip and tore a little, creasing as I shoved it inside.

It didn't matter any more. I was done for the day, maybe for the week. This plan was stupid from the get-go; I needed to reformulate a strategy that would work.

How could I have been so stupid? I thought, shaking my head. The glass doors were now in sight, and each step closer to them was a step that relieved the pressure in my chest.

"Miss Genovese!"

A voice calling out from behind me made me stop in my tracks. Had I heard that correctly, or was I imagining things?

"Miss Genovese, wait."

Finally I turned around and found a man striding towards me. He was old; his features had been wrinkled by the years and his hair was grey and thinning atop his head. He wore round glasses framed by very thin wire, and a suit that made him look even taller than he probably was.

When he reached me, he glanced me over quickly and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Let me see that resume," he commanded. His voice was deep and gravelly.

"It's fine, I don't have any experience..."

"At Van Der Bilt & Co., we like to foster the best and brightest minds to work with. You may not have experience, but Johnathan here tells me that you have a first-class degree from Cambridge University."

"That's true," I nodded.

"Then let me see the resume." He held out his hand expectantly.

From inside my bag, I pulled the tattered, battered piece of paper that had once been so neatly folded. It now resembled something a dog might have eaten.

"My name is William Van Der Bilt," the old man with round glasses introduced himself as he smoothed out my resume.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I offered with a smile.

William's eyes scanned over my resume with a careful scrutiny, as if absorbing and evaluating each word on the page. He made some low, grumbling noises of appreciation at times, and other surprised noises that made his white, bushy eyebrows raise up on his forehead.

"Well," he announced, refolding the paper and slipping it into his pocket, "happily for you, we're looking for a few young lawyers to train up as part of our internship scheme."

"Seriously?" I was astounded.

"We will take you on as a paid intern for, say, two months. If, during that period, you manage to pass the bar exam and impress us, we'll make a more permanent contract for you."

"That sounds incredible," I breathed.

A smile washed over William's face as he expelled a very deep breath of air. "Shall we head up to my office to discuss the terms of our agreement fully?"

Hardly able to believe my luck, I nodded eagerly.