SOFIA {SAMPLE}

6

I blocked the security camera, hiding my clothes from view as I entered the code and pushed past the gates to the front door. My home was crickets again, an unnerving silence paired with deceiving lights guiding my way upstairs. Tonight, however, I felt different. I didn't feel so trapped and alone.

I continued up to my room, to the bathroom, catching my reflection. I looked like a roving gypsy. My clothes! I left them in his bathroom. Had he found them? Was he running the black lace of my lingerie through his fingers, pushing it to his face, inhaling what he had just tasted? Was he pining for more just as I was?

I reached for the hem of his sweater, tugging it, getting a whiff of Eric as if he were here beside me. My fingers automatically released it, leaving him on me for the night.

I smelled... him. My face was pressed into his sleeve, the scent intoxicating and comforting, pulling me from my dreams, back to reality—to my empty bed. I sat up, sliding my legs off the sheets, smiling at the sight of his sweats. It was the first time I'd awaken warm in this bed and the first I'd awaken truly happy.

I rose, starting for the closet, only to stop short of the door. Why couldn't I stay in these clothes? Paulo wasn't here to mind what I wore, nor did I have anywhere to be this morning. And these pants, albeit atrocious, were, actually, cozy. I bypassed the closet for the stairs, taking them down to the main floor, where Hilda was polishing the newest of Paulo's gifts.

"Good morning, Hilda."

She whipped around, the spray bottle dropping from her hand with her gasp. "Oh, Sofia. I will call the doctor's office immediately!"

"Doctor?" I searched her startled face. "Why?"

"You're sick."

"Sick?" I repeated, following her gaze to the pants and oversized sweater. "I'm not sick. I'm... I'm waiting for the cleaners to drop off my Escada. My silk robes are... also at the cleaners."

"Maybe I should call Mr. Marino. Do you have a fever?" She pressed the back of her hand to her own forehead, seemingly distraught by my distressed appearance.

"I came down to get my coffee, and then I'll be going back upstairs to dress. I'm fine, Hilda!"

Her lips twisted in worry. "I'll make you your espresso; maybe that helps you."

Helps me? Really? "Can you please prepare a biscottate or a fruit bowl as well?"

"Food?" She let out another sharp gasp, seconds away from signing the cross.

"Yes, food!" Ugh. I walked back upstairs, skin prickling from the sound of my ringing phone, my heart thumping from my chest. Paulo. The high from last night instantly turned to shame.

I leaned over cautiously, relief surging at the sight of Luca's name on the screen. "Luca?" I answered, putting the phone to my ear.

"Stefano and I are headed to lunch. You wanna come?"
Come... The word instantly quelled the shame, the fear turning back to desire. I did want to come again. "Will your neighbor be there?"

"Eric? Nah, I saw him earlier. He's writing all day. So you coming or what?"

"I—I have plans. When are you leaving by chance?"

"Walking out the door right now."

"Perfetto. I'll see you tomorrow night. Ciao." So Luca was leaving the building... and Eric was home, alone. I stripped my way to the shower, stepping in and right back out. There wasn't a second to spare.

Now, what to wear? I hurried to my closet, pacing back and forth, studying every dress. What would he find sexy? Ah-ha! The black Chanel trench coat. Why was I worried about a sexy dress—when I was sexy enough. I slid the sleeves up, pulling the coat over my bare body and fastening the belt as I stepped into my stilettos.