Meet Me In Monaco - Flora Ferrari Page 0,4

help us find our way around?” Liliana asks, perhaps trying to drag the conversation away from our university days. She taps the map lying on the table pointedly as she sips her mocha.

“Yes, I did,” I say, turning my most charming smile on her. “Let’s see. You’ve only been here a day, so I’m guessing you haven’t explored too much?”

Liliana shakes her head. “Only the harbor area, here. And we had lunch over here.” She taps two parts of the map, and I nod.

“Are you fans of Formula One?” I ask. “Even if you’re not, you should check out the race circuit. You can walk right on it because it’s just normal roads at any other time of year. By the way, where are you staying?”

When she doesn’t answer immediately, I look up to see her blushing again. I could just nibble that blush right off her cheeks. “Um, it’s actually… well, it’s not on the map,” she admits. “We’re staying out of town.”

I take her meaning in immediately. The hotels in Monaco are expensive, naturally so. She means they’re staying across the border, in a cheaper hotel. That’s alright, after all, many visitors only come here for a day trip because the prices are so high.

But it does bring up the worry that they might not only be exploring Monaco in this short week they are here for.

“Are you planning to visit any other areas?” I ask, tactfully. “I’m an expert on Monaco, but I’ll confess, I don’t often stray outside of the borders. If I leave, it’s usually on a plane or a boat.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Liliana says, returning hope to my chest. “Monaco’s so very interesting. Even though we’re only here for a week, I’m sure we’ll find plenty to see and do.”

I smile, feeling it crinkle my eyes. When was the last time I smiled so deeply? And this, from only a casual conversation about my city. “You definitely will,” I promise her, and bend my head over the map again. “Now, you’re going to want to circle this area here…”

And all the while, I start to think about how I can make my promise true. How I can give her as much to see or do as she wants.

And this time, I’m not talking about Monaco.

Chapter Four

Liliana

I don’t know how I’m getting through this conversation without dissolving into a nervous wreck. Every time he looks at me, I feel like I’m going to say something incredibly stupid. Someone cool and calm has taken over my mouth because that certainly isn’t me responding to him as though everything is normal.

I can’t help letting my eyes stray over him as he talks. He looks down at the map, his eyes shaded by lashes that are far too long to be fair on a man, his mouth quirking at the corners. I can’t help but watch every tiny muscle working under the skin of his face, the way he moves, the way he talks. He’s so quick, and I think he must be very intelligent. The fact that he went to dad’s school helps to confirm it.

He’s not stuffy or uptight like I might have expected. Even though I can tell just by looking at him that he has more money than we do, he’s not worried about talking with us, reminiscing about his old school with my dad, and all the rest of it.

Which reminds me of how old he is.

I have to keep looking at him because I just don't believe it. How can it be true? He's really twenty years older than me? I don't think I had considered how old he might be when we first met, but of course, I knew he must have been older than I am. I just didn't quite expect it to be this much older.

He looks so amazing for his age, completely different from my dad. And he's just so... hot. Old men aren't supposed to be hot.

Which I guess means that he's not as old as I was thinking.

It makes sense, I suppose. When I was a teen, I thought that twenty was kind of ancient. Now that I’m that age myself, I can see how it isn’t. Maybe being forty is the same thing. It looks old from here – but in reality, he’s still young enough.

And that accent more then makes up for any difference in age that might have made me pause.

“There’s so much to remember,” I say, blinking down at the