*Olivia*

"What are you still doing in bed?" Dahlia asked me, looking surprised to replace me still so disheveled.

I sighed heavily, knowing there was no way I could explain to her that I'd slept in because I was up late-because then she'd ask me why I was up so late. And then I'd have to lie to her face.

Instead, I shrugged and moved aside as she came into the room, throwing herself onto the bed I'd just vacated. I hoped she wouldn't notice how rumpled the sheets were.

"It's one in the afternoon, Olive. We're in Florence! We can't just sleep the whole day away like we would back home."

I sighed heavily because I knew that, on the one hand, she was right. On the other, I was still horribly jetlagged, and besides that, I was apparently cursed to have sex dreams about her cousin. I walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, lying back against the mattress and pretending to fall asleep. I fake snored, and she elbowed me.

"Come on," I groaned. "Just let me sleep!"

"I know what will get you out of bed," she sang-song happily. "I have boy news."

I sat up and stared at her, my heart pounding. Then I realized that it was probably news about a boy she liked. There was no possible way she could know about my late night with Giovani already.

"Lorenzo texted me," she said flirtatiously, dangling her phone in front of me.

"Lorenzo?" I asked, my tired brain still not fully catching up.

She rolled her eyes and smacked me on the arm, looking annoyed.

"Hello," she emphasized. "The guy we met at the university yesterday! Tall, dark, and totally hot as shit?"

Right. Him.

"That's great," I told her, trying to stifle a yawn. "What did he say?"

"Well," she drew out, looking at me with a guilty expression. "He wanted to know if I'd have lunch with him."

My eyebrows rose in apprehension, mostly because I'd seen too many movies where American girls get kidnapped in foreign countries.

"You just met him," I pointed out. "Are you sure you're comfortable going out with him alone?"

She waved me off, an annoyed look crossing her face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile.

"Oh, Olive, you worry too much!" she teased. "He's a perfectly charming guy who's perfectly trustworthy. Besides, someone from my family's security team is always following me. Everywhere I go, there are eyes on me."

That felt very ominous, and I wondered if her family always had eyes on me as well. Did anyone else know about my night in the living room with Giovani? Not that there was anything really to know. All we'd done was stay up late and talk. It was perfectly innocent, unfortunately.

"But," she started slowly, standing up and inching toward the door, "if you're really worried about it, you're more than welcome to come."

I knew Dahlia well enough by now to realize that this wasn't a genuine offer. She was asking to be nice, but no part of her wanted me to accept it. I could tell by the sparkle in her eye that she liked this guy, even if he was basically a stranger. How could I blame her? If I knew I'd have the opportunity to spend time alone with Giovani, I'd want her to show me the same courtesy.

"Oh," I hedged, picking at a thread on my comforter. "That's perfectly alright. I'm probably just going to stay in and read. I found a huge library last night and-"

She held up a hand to stop me, giving me a chastising look. As long as we'd been friends, she had always been the adventurous party girl, and I'd always preferred quiet solitude. She'd dragged me out in high school, claiming she didn't want me to become a recluse. I expected college to be no different, but she was going to ditch me either way.

"Or," I said slowly, and her face broke into a smile. "I'll have a self-care day. Take a bubble bath, do a face mask, maybe have a mini yoga session in the courtyard."

She clapped her hands, much more on board with this plan. If there was one thing Dahlia loved more than hot guys, it was self-care days.

"If you look in my bathroom, you'll replace everything you need!" she smiled, before turning and walking out the door.

That was that. Dahlia was off on her Italian romance, and I was home, wishing to replace my own romance. Of course, the only person I wanted to have a steamy affair with also lived in this house, so staying home did better my chances. First, though, I needed sustenance to wake up. Dahlia didn't approve of coffee on self-care days, but Dahlia was already gone. What she didn't know wouldn't kill her, at least in this instance. I padded down to the kitchen, looking for a pot of coffee somewhere, but found nothing.

I felt bad looking through cabinets, even if this was my temporary home. I felt out of place in the large house, like I was an intruder. I knew the feeling would ease in time. After all, it was only my third day there, but I was overwhelmed and honestly a little homesick.

A self-care day truly was what I needed to recalibrate and start to feel like I belonged here, not just in this house, but in this country. As much as I'd always fantasized about living here, the reality was different. I was still happy, but it was a lot to take in all at once. Coffee would help, if only I could replace it.

"Posso aiutarla?" a woman asked from behind me, making me jump. I hadn't heard her come in.

I assessed her outfit, smart khaki pants and an embroidered polo, and realized she must be one of the staff members.

She'd asked if she could help me. Right.

"Caffe?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting her to dislike me for needing help.

She smiled brightly and nodded.

"Ah, the American," she said in a thick accent. "The friend, not the cousin. Signor Giovani told me to get you anything you wanted."

Something about the way she looked at me made me think that he'd said more than that, but I didn't want to read anything into it. I was probably just imagining things.

"If you could just show me where the coffee pot is, I'll be alright," I told her shyly.

She smiled again but began waving her arms, shooing me out of the kitchen.

"No, no, no, no, no," she said authoritatively. "You are a guest in the house. You no make coffee. I bring it up to you in your room, okay?"

I tried to protest, but she kept pushing me out of the kitchen until I was standing in the hallway with nowhere to go but back to my room. This lifestyle would definitely take some getting used to.

Sure, my mom was technically the maid for Dahlia's parents, but all she did was clean the house. As long as I'd known them, I'd never seen anyone wait on them hand and foot like this. It certainly wasn't my experience. It almost made me feel icky, like I should offer to do more. But, obviously, the woman would hear none of that.

Off I went, back to my room to wait for the coffee. I had no idea how long I would have to wait, especially if she was planning to make it the fancy, Italian way. Now that I thought about it, they probably didn't have a standard coffee maker. I probably wouldn't have been able to figure it out anyway.

I figured that if I was going to wait anyway, I might as well get a jump on my self-care day. I padded into Dahlia's bathroom, raiding her counters until I found a few different kinds of face masks, bubble bath, bath bombs, and fancy salts. As a girl of means, all her products were much more luxurious than what I normally used at home. My bath salts usually came out of a bag I bought from the pharmacy, but hers were in a glass jar with a fancy gold scoop. With my arms full, I went back into my bathroom and carefully set everything out.

When I was satisfied with the setup, I turned the knob on the faucet until I figured out how the hot water ran. This was the bathtub of my dreams, a true soaking tub with enough room for me to sink down into it and be completely covered by the water. Maybe it was silly, but I'd always dreamed of using a tub like this. It was exactly the kind of thing a princess would use.

As the water ran, I added my ingredients, feeling like I was concocting a witch's brew. I felt silly and giddy and knew that Dahlia would one hundred percent make fun of me if she were here. I didn't care, though. I was literally living my dream. When the bath was ready, and steam was rising from the surface, I stripped out of my clothes and tentatively slipped my foot in. The water was perfect, warm and soapy, and I carefully climbed in, luxuriating in every step. I tied my hair up with the hair tie I always kept around my wrist and sunk down until the only thing sticking out was my head. It was perfect.

The heat from the water invaded my senses and my entire body relaxed. I felt like Jell-O, all squishy and boneless. My heavy eyelids closed, and I could feel myself sinking deeper into the relaxation. I'd long forgotten about my coffee when I heard the door open.

"You can just leave the tray in my bedroom," I called out to the maid, but I didn't hear her leave.

When I opened my eyes, Giovani was standing in the doorway, eyeing me curiously.

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