"And I mean everything Elena, his name, job, how you met, all of it— and he better be rich!"
"Everything Sofia, I'll tell you."
Sofia pointed at her "I'm holding on to that" she said, and then picked up her own menu and the whole conversation shifted back to normal, to the easy, comfortable rhythm of two people who had been having coffee together for several years, and Elena felt something in her chest loosen for the first time since the night of the party.
They ordered some pastries as They talked. Sofia complained about her stupid job and Elena listened asking questions while laughing at the right moments and for an hour it almost felt like nothing had changed, like she wasn't being held semi hostage in a mafia boss's home.
She caught herself checking her phone many times without realizing.
Sofia noticed the fourth time "go ahead" she said, nodding at the phone with a knowing smile.
"I'm not—" Elena scoffed and tried to argue.
"Elena you checked your phone twice in five minutes and you never check your phone so often when we're together, just go ahead—"
"I'm not checking for anyone—" Elena said, putting the phone face down on the table, which was a mistake because it immediately buzzed and Sofia's eyebrows went all the way up.
"Don't!" Elena warned after seeing that expression.
Sofia pressed her lips together with a smile and said nothing but her eyes were saying everything. Elena turned the phone over and looked at the screen.
Ofcourse, it was Alessandro. He had sent just One message which read: How much longer? She read it out loud without knowing.
Not even are you okay, not even is everything fine, just how much longer, like she was a meeting that had run over schedule, like her afternoon had an expiry date that he had set and she hadn't been consulted about. Pathetic!
She typed back with a clenched jaw, "an hour" before she put the phone away and turned to her friend with a smile.
Sofia was still looking at her.
"What?" Elena asked and raked her hands through her perfect hair.
"Nothing" Sofia said, in the voice that meant everything "absolutely nothing my queen in love."
"Sofia—"
"I said nothing… come on" she laughed, picking up her coffee, smiling into it in a way that was deeply irritating "I'm just sitting here watching you love."
Elena looked at her with irritation, "stop it."
"I'm not doing anything—"
"You're doing that thing with your face— mocking me!"
"I'm just drinking my coffee Elena—"
Sofia put the cup down and looked at her with that smile that had been causing Elena problems since the second grade "I just think" she said carefully, "that a man who texts to ask how much longer you're going to be" she paused, "is a man who is very aware of where you are at all times."
Elena said nothing.
"Which is either very sweet" Sofia said leaning closer, "or very intense." She completed and pursed her lips.
"Can't it be both?" Elena asked, before she could stop herself.
Sofia stared at her.
Then she sat back in her chair with the expression of someone who had just been handed more information than they had asked for and was very pleased about it "oh Elena baby!" she said softly, almost to herself, "you are in so much trouble, he's obsessed."
Elena looked out the window at the street outside, at Milan going about its afternoon, at Marco's black car parked two spaces down from the café entrance, at the ordinary Tuesday that was the backdrop to her extremely unordinary life right now. How could she tell her bestie she's actually just being held hostage because she saw a mafia Boss commit murder.
"I know" she lied with a fake chuckle.
Sofia reached across the table and squeezed her hand gently "okay" she said, "whenever you're ready tell me who this obsessed and sexy boyfriend is."
Elena squeezed back as they both laughed.
"Stop it! You're getting annoying!" She whined.
Marco was leaning against the car when Elena finally came out of the cafè, phone in hand, straightening up when he saw her "ready Miss?" he asked politely.
"Ready" she replied bluntly without sparing him a glance, she was genuinely tired.
She got in the car and looked out the window as they pulled away staring at Sofia who had gotten into her own car and also pulled away.
Elena faced forward and sighed deeply.
The drive back was very quiet. Milan moved past the windows and she let her mind go still for a moment, just sat with the afternoon reminiscing about the coffee, pastries, Sofia's laughter and the way one hour of normal had felt like rainafter three days of drought. She almost broke down in tears but she anchored herself.
Her phone buzzed again.
It was Alessandro. "Marco said you're on your way back."
She stared at the message with irritation.
Then she typed, "were you worried?"
Three minutes passed without any response. She watched the streets go by. Marco turned onto the familiar road and the gates of the house came into view as her phone buzzed one more time.
"Don't be late for dinner."
Elena looked at the message for a long moment.
Then she smiled slightly facing the window so Marco couldn't see it.
"Hmm. Don't be late for dinner!" She muttered and scoffed before putting her phone away.
Alessandro heard the car pull in at half past four.
He didn't look up from the papers he was working on on his desk. He had work to do and he had been doing it and the fact that he had checked the time twice in the last hour was completely unrelated to anything.
Marco's voice carried faintly from the entrance hall, then there was the sound of the front door closing, and then footsteps on the marble floor that were lighter than Marco's, Sera's and Luca's, Ofcourse he had studied them.
He looked back down at the papers and sighed as he heard her going upstairs.
He put his pen down.
He had known women who tried to be noticed, who moved through spaces with the specific intention of being looked at, who understood their effect on a room and used it the way other people used words. He had grown up around them, had spent his adult life in proximity to them, and had never found it particularly difficult to remain indifferent because indifference was easy when you understood the mechanism.
But Elena didn't try to be noticed.
That was the problem.
She moved through his house like she was still figuring out whether she was allowed to take up space in it and somehow that was worse, that got under his skin in a way that all the elegance in the world never had, and he had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to identify why and kept coming up with nothing useful.