I looked at her. "I am."
She smiled. It was a beautiful smile and it did not reach anywhere near her eyes. "I thought so. I saw you come in with him." She moved to the mirror beside me with the ease of someone who was comfortable in her own presence everywhere she went, and opened her bag and took out a lipstick and began to reapply it with the focused, unhurried attention of a woman who knew she was being watched and found this unremarkable. "You are very pretty," she said, to the mirror. "Different from what I expected."
I stood very still.
"I'm sorry," I said carefully. "I don't think I know you."
"No," she agreed pleasantly. "But I know Matteo." She pressed her lips together and examined the result with satisfaction. "Very well. For a long time." She glanced at me sideways in the m
