As usual, the Colonel rocked back on his heels, thumbs in his jacket lapels. Dante and I were on our way to visit the Certosa but, as it was near the Colonel’s villa, we had swung by. I wanted to give him word of my acceptance in person. Dante decided to wait with the car, as he could watch me enter and exit the house. It was still raining. Staying at the D’Angelo palazzo had been . . . delightful. And not only due to Dante’s goodnight kissing skills. Though that had been a highpoint . . . After Dante said goodnight (over and over), Chiara had kept me up late chatting about her latest men troubles. Turned out, she and I had a lot in common when it came to dating losers—Dante excepted, of course. “Shall we have dinner to celebrate?” The Colonel continued. The Colonel was his cheerful self today. So far nothing weird. It felt good, accepting the job.
