Miss Extra Charge

Chapter 2: A Practical Arrangement

I woke before my alarm and lay in bed listening to the bells from the cathedral. My heel stung when I stood, but the blister pads had done their job. I could walk. I could find breakfast. I could manage a day in Bellacosta without asking anyone to carry me, guide me, or explain what to do next.

Then I opened the hotel curtains and saw the rain.

It came down hard enough to turn the street into a shining slope. I checked the forecast, then the route to the museum, then the forecast again, as though weather might respond to persistence.

At ten, Alessia appeared in the lobby wearing a dark green coat and carrying an umbrella.

"I thought we could do the market first," she said. "It's covered."

I looked at the rain streaming past the glass doors. "I didn't bring an umbrella."

"I have one."

"Is that included?"

"The umbrella is included. Walking beside you while you borrow it is included. Replacing it if you break it is not."

"You're very reassuring."

"I try."

We shared the umbrella down to the market. Alessia held it so the rain stayed off me, which pushed her own shoulder into the weather. I noticed. I also noticed that she didn't mention an extra fee.

The market smelled of wet stone, oranges, and fish. She introduced me to vendors and translated when I asked how to choose olives. At one stall, I bought a paper cone of fried anchovies. I'd never eaten them before. The first bite was salty and crisp, and I laughed at my own surprise.

Alessia smiled at me. "That's the face I like."

"What face?"

"The one where you forget to be embarrassed."

I looked down at the food. "I'm not embarrassed."

"Not right now."

The words landed too close to home. My smile slipped.

Alessia didn't ask me to explain. She pointed out a basket of tiny pears and told me which ones were sweet. I was grateful for the change, though I wasn't sure I liked being read so accurately.

After the market, I wanted to go to the cathedral. The rain had slowed to a mist, but the hill was steep. Alessia checked the time.

"We're scheduled until one," she said. "The cathedral will take at least another hour."

"Could we extend?"

"Of course. Another hour is seventy-five dollars."

I hesitated. "That's a lot."

"It's the rate."

"I know. I just meant—"

"I understand what you meant." Her tone stayed calm. "You can go by yourself. I'll give you directions. You can also extend the tour. You don't have to justify either choice to me."

The simple options made my face warm. I had expected her to persuade me, or to reassure me that she didn't mind. Instead, she waited.

"I'll extend," I said.

She wrote the time on her small notebook. "All right."

At the cathedral, she told me about the mosaic work and the long restoration. I listened, then lost track of the history while looking at the ceiling. The pale blue tiles seemed to hold more light than the day outside.

"I used to draw churches," I said.

"What happened?"

"I got a job."

"That's not an answer."

"It is the answer I have." I folded my hands in my lap. "I still draw sometimes. It's just hard to make a living from it."

"You make a living from design."

"I make a living from making other people's ideas look finished."

Alessia turned toward me. "And what do your own ideas look like?"

"I don't know anymore."

For a moment, the cathedral was quiet except for a child whispering to his mother. Alessia watched the mosaic rather than me.

"You don't have to know today," she said.

That was the kind of thing Ben used to say before changing the subject. From Alessia, it felt different. Maybe because she had already charged me for an hour, and the kindness had no obligation to pretend it was free.

When we left, I asked if she knew a restaurant where I could eat without feeling conspicuous.

"You can eat anywhere without being conspicuous," she said.

"That's not what I asked."

"No. It isn't."

We stopped under an awning while she looked at her schedule. "I can recommend three places. If you want me to join you, my dinner rate is one hundred and twenty dollars for two hours."

I studied her face for a joke. There wasn't one.

"Would you want to?"

"I don't take every dinner booking."

"That's still not an answer."

"It's the answer I have."

She'd handed my own phrase back to me. I almost laughed.

"I'll think about it," I said.

"Good."

She gave me the names of two restaurants and walked me to the hotel. Before she left, she lifted the umbrella and offered it.

"Take it for the afternoon. Return it tomorrow."

"Is that included?"

"Borrowing it is. Losing it is not."

I took the handle. "I'll be careful."

"I know."

She said it as if she trusted me with the umbrella. I watched her walk away in the rain.

That night I chose the smaller restaurant. I sat by the window, ordered soup, and ate without staring at my phone. The waiter didn't ask whether I was waiting for someone. When he brought the bill, I paid and left a tip.

Back in my room, I sent Alessia a message.

Nora: Would you be available for dinner tomorrow? At your rate.

She replied several minutes later.

Alessia: Yes. I'll send you the details.

I put my phone away before I could ask whether she'd been hoping I would.