The Professor

by Rachel Renee

  Deciding that I have the rest of the day to get into it with Sophia, I glide out the front door and walk down the sidewalk toward one of my most favorite places in the city. The man behind the counter remembers me as he smiles and waves upon my opening the front door.

  “Caffe Latte, Niccolo?”

  “Si,” I answer. I’m not even sure that’s what I want, but if he’s offering, I’ll oblige.

  My body maneuvers through the people and tables, heading to the counter to wait for my coffee. “I’ll bring it to you.” Marco waves me away with his free hand.

  With a smile and polite wave, I turn once more, now heading for the table that Santi and I are accustomed to sharing. I’m surprised to see his smiling face already in position when I arrive at the table. He stands, which isn’t like him and hugs me, kissing me on either cheek before sitting once more.

  “Miss me?” I ask jokingly.

  “I did, grande Fratello.” His mouth upturns once more.

  Big brother. That’s a stab through the heart. I know we are getting close, but I can’t have him thinking of me like that. Once this job is over, once we have what we need to take down his father, he will hate me forever. That’s an emotion I can get behind.

  Santi and I converse about his trip home. He tells me the apartment is empty and I should reconsider staying with him. “I will stay sometimes. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I laugh, though I’m not sure at which joke.

  “Have you talked to Padre?” It’s a strange question because the connection to Paolo and me is supposed to be unknown to his son.

  “No. Why?”

  “He mentioned during a phone conversation he had something for you.”

  “For me?” I feign stupidity. “Why would he have something for me?”

  “I was hoping you’d enlighten me in the reasoning.”

  “I honestly don’t know.” I want to kick myself in the ass the moment those words leave my lips. Santi’s eyes glower in my direction. Shit. I sigh. “Fine. I did a little job for him a while back.” Shrugging my shoulders, I add, “Right after the shooting. You know, to tie up loose ends.” That, at least, is the truth, just not the whole of it.

  “So, a reward of some sort, then?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Or he has something else he wants you to do?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “My father trusts you more than me?”

  “I don’t think that’s the case. He loves you, and he doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You are disposable.” Santi’s brows raise as his eyes widen.

  “I am. You are not.” That conversation went south quickly. I wonder what else he knows.

  “Will you speak with him?”

  “Padre?”

  “Yes.”

  “If he calls.”

  His head nods and that is that. My coffee has finally arrived and Santi orders Marco to bring him another as he sips the last dregs of his first cup. The mood lightens again as Santi tells me about a party he plans to go to this evening. He wants me to come and says to bring Sophia if I want. I tell him that I will ask her what she wants to do. The conversation flows easily, normally, and there is no more talk of his dad and me meeting up behind his back.

  As I bid ado to Santi, my mind drifts to what Paolo is going to ask of me. I’m not proud of the fact that I am working for him, but getting in his business can only further mine. I’m hopeful it won’t be too much longer until I figure out another part of the puzzle piece. The piece that will connect all the others.

  Before I realize it, I’m back at the apartment. The conversation with Sophia is next on my list and I’m interested to find out if she’s been lying to me. Once entering the building, I turn right instead of left and am pounding on her big metal door. I hear heels clacking up to it, feel the stare out of the peephole before the door is opened, and I’m greeted with tiny arms being wrapped around my waist.

  “Ciao,” she whispers as she pulls back, kissing each of my cheeks in turn.

  I waste no time. “We need to talk and I need you to be honest with me.”

  “Nic, I have been honest with you.”

  She’s still so close when she mumbles those words that I can’t see her lip or if it quivered in the slightest. “Talk to me. Have you been meeting up with Rubio?”

  Her eyes dart back and forth before she grabs my hand, pulling me out of the doorframe and into the apartment. The metal clashes against its hinge. “Not here.” The words are so soft I barely hear them. We move further into the apartment, into places I have not seen. There is another metal doorway at the very end of a hall, which I assume to be her entrance to the terrace. The lock clicks and the door swings open, but not for long because as soon as we are through it, it clangs back together with its frame.

  “Why do we need to go upstairs?”

  “In a minute.” Her finger goes to her lips before it points up above.

  There are quite a few more stairs from her apartment to the terrace than there are from mine. The heat of the afternoon has made the stairwell into somewhat of a sauna, so when it finally opens up onto the terrace, the temperature difference is drastic. Out in the open expanse of the rooftop, there is a gentle breeze, slightly cooling the heat from the sun directly atop us.

  “I can’t be certain my apartment isn’t bugged. Moretti has grown to distrust me. I know he has.”

  “Wait. You think he would bug your apartment?”

  “I would not put it past him.”

  “I’m an idiot. If he is, he will know that you and I are talking.”

  “We can come up with a cover story.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

  “Niccolo.” A shudder overtakes her body.

  “We’ll figure it out. Let’s talk.”

  “Yes. I’ve met up with him.”

  There won’t be a better time than now to ask. “Are you sleeping with him?”

  Her breath hitches and I know I’ve hit the mark. “Sophia. Why?”

  “I don’t know how to stop it.”

  “Do you have feelings for the guy?”

  “No.” Her eyes lower and her top lip glitches.

  “Oh, Sophia. What is going on?” How could she develop feelings for the man?

  A single tear falls from her left eye and as I reach up to wipe it away, she grabs ahold of my hand. “I don’t know what to do. I’m in over my head and I don’t see any way out of it.”

  “We have to close out this case. Sophia, you can’t have feelings for Paolo. He’s going to prison very soon.”

  Her face reddens and her eyes glare into my soul. “You cannot tell me who to have feelings for.”

  I’m stunned by the sternness. “You’re absolutely right. What I should have said was, ‘You should not have feelings for Rubio.’”

  “You care for Santi.”

  “You’re right. I like the guy. I know it’s a job, though. We’ve talked about this. You warned me about getting close to people. How did this happen?”

  Letting go of my hand, Sophia sits back in her chair, her head dropping into her palms. “I keep asking myself the same thing.”

  “It usually helps to start from the beginning. We can figure it out together.” I smile at her but she never looks in my direction.

  “When did you become the wise one?”

  I chuckle. “I’m not claiming to be.”

  “Oh, but you are, Nic. You have grown tremendously.”

  My head shakes back and forth, but I know she’s correct. I’m not the same person I was a year ago. My thoughts have changed, my feelings have altered, and the decisions I’ve made will have everlasting consequences on the person I once was.

  Sophia releases her hands into her lap, but she doesn’t move her head upward when she speaks. “You were away. Charlie and Moretti have their own thing going on and the more I tried to get close to them, the more they pushed me away. They stopped inviting me to meetings, ins
tead they enjoyed dinners together, morning coffees on the terrace. When I caught them for the third time, I knew I had to strike out on my own.”

  I sit quietly and listen as Sophia recounts why she started meeting up with Paolo.

  “I knew I had to start working the case on my own again.” Her voice is tight and cracking as she speaks the next statement. “Paolo continued to harass me about meeting up. It started out at the caffé, then he took me to dinner. After a couple of weeks, coffee and dinner no longer appeased him and when he asked me back to his place for the thousandth time, I caved.

  “It was like before, only this time I knew we’d finish what we started so long ago. When it first happened, I thought I was doing it to get ahead of Moretti and Charlie. If I’m in bed with our subject, I will learn more than those two idiots would out in the field.”

  “And did you?”

  “More than I bargained for.” She finally looks up at me, the tears flowing freely.

  I’m not accustomed to seeing a woman cry. Colleague or not, this is new territory for me. I scoot my chair over so that I can place my hand on Sophia’s shoulder. Is she regretting telling me this? What can I say to help her?

  “I’m here now. What can I do?”

  A tiny blip of sound escapes her mouth. “I’m too far gone, Niccolo. You cannot save me now.”

  “Don’t say that. No one is ever too far gone.”

  “The things that I’ve said. Oh, the things I’ve seen.”

  “We can use them to our advantage?” I’m asking because at this point, it’s hard to tell if Sophia is going to be able to complete this case with us.

  Her head turns so that she is facing me. She’s struggling to look in my direction and not because of what she is planning to say. I remove my hand from her shoulder and grasp onto her delicate, trembling fingers.

  “I’m not sure. Nic?” Her eyes bore into mine. “How can I do my job when I’m in love with the target?”

  And, there it is. That four letter word I was hoping she wouldn’t say. “This was not part of the training.” The exhale is louder than I planned, but the effect was advantageous. Sophia’s lips turn up and for the first time since I’ve been back, I see a glimmer of something different.

  “Nic. Love is never part of the training. In fact, love is not recommended by the CIA. Stay out of it, get out of it, never get in it.”

  It’s nice that we can both have a laugh, even if it’s at Sophia’s expense. My mind whirls around ways to get out of this mess. Though it is not part of the training, it’s like any other scenario thrown our way. There has to be a way out. We just have to discover it.

  The sun is beating down on the two of us and silent contemplation has taken over. Sophia’s tears have dried up for the moment, but her brown eyes are drowning. It hits me like a ton of bricks, toppling me back in my chair. Sophia bites her bottom lip as I open my mouth to speak. She knows what I’m going to say before I do and she silences the words with a finger to my lips.

  This is it. The moment that’s going to bring this case to a head. Sophia’s soundless confirmation lets me know that she is in. Her honesty tells me that she knows what she has to do is not going to be easy, but she will endure the pain for the outcome that is needed.

  It’s hard to explain the connection that Sophia and I have developed, but in our silence, we detail our plan. The execution will be effortless, well, for the most part. The follow through is what is going to take its toll. On our friendship, on the working relationship we’ve built, but most of all, on the case we’ve been working with Charlie and Moretti to establish.

  27

  Present Day

  I’m much more put together this time when the pilot announces our arrival into Italy. No need to breathe into a brown paper sack or second-guess myself on my decision to come on this journey. It’s one that was already started, but apparently, not put to rest.

  I grab my small suitcase from the overhead compartment and happen to be one of the initial to exit since I was seated in first class. Another perk of tenure and frequent travel. The lieutenant told me that someone would be waiting for me in baggage claim, said I’d recognize the face so not to be looking for any signs with my name written across it. I’m kind of excited to see who’s here. Will it be part of the old team back together? Will I get to see my long-lost father?

  I’m chuckling slightly as I pull up to the conveyer belt that’s running empty at the moment. No one’s around yet, not even the other passengers from my flight. My eyes scan the vicinity, searching for anything or anyone that looks familiar. The clang of the motor brings me back to present and the fact that the luggage is already starting to fall from the opening in the middle of the track.

  Surprised that my ride has yet to make an appearance after I’ve gathered my suitcase, I take both bags to the other side of the room and sit on a bench that will allow me to watch the premises and both the entrances in this area. I pull my phone from my pocket and browse my emails, looking up every few seconds to glance around. I send a quick text to Eliza, letting her know I’ve arrived, before erasing all the contacts from my phone. I’m thankful for the cloud and the backup of my product before I left the States. I’ll be able to get everything back once this mission is complete.

  Leaning back against the wall, my feet begin to tap, growing impatient with waiting. An hour passes, and my blood is boiling. Where’s my ride? Just when I’m about to call Lieutenant, the familiar face that I’d been hoping to see rushes in the entrance furthest from me. I haven’t been spotted yet, and his head is searching frantically around the room. Sitting still, I wait until he notices me before I make my move. It only takes a few seconds and then our eyes lock, my face brightening at the figure that is now approaching.

  “Nic! It’s so good to see you!”

  It feels surreal to hear that name once more. My bags are on the floor and my arms are around Charlie the moment he makes contact. “It’s great to see you too!”

  Life has not been that great to Charlie. His hair, what he has left of it, is completely white. There are wrinkles upon wrinkles covering his worn face. You can tell he has spent a lot of time somewhere warm as the sunspots have grown tremendously. An audible huff comes from his mouth as he pulls further back, taking me in as well. “I know, I’m just as handsome as you remember,” Charlie teases.

  “Absolutely.”

  “You, though. Whoa. You’ve grown up, my boy.” He rubs a rough hand across my shaved head, laughing all the while. “Check out all these tattoos. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “They’re addicting. After I got one, I haven’t been able to stop.”

  His eyes widen as he peruses my arms. “I can see that.”

  Charlie moves to grab my suitcase but I wave him away. “I can carry them. Just lead the way.”

  His head shakes as he turns back toward the doors. “You are never going to believe this. We’ve got the old apartment back.”

  “What? How?”

  “An old friend. Actually, it hasn’t been rented since we moved out.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope. I think she’s been waiting for us.” Charlie makes a little coughing sound. “You, to return.”

  “Don’t say that. It wasn’t like that between us and you know it.”

  “Do I?” He wags his brows before leading me to the car parked haphazardly along the loading zone.

  This is the Charlie I remember. Glad to see that part of him hasn’t changed.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Oh…about a month. Give or take.”

  “That long?”

  “Thought I could do this one alone. Realized quickly that I couldn’t. That’s why I sent the package. Knew there was only one person able to infiltrate Santi Rubio’s place.”

  “You really don’t think that he had any idea I was a part of the team that brought his father, his legacy down?”

  “It doesn’t look that way. Sophia said he come
s around looking for you. Can’t figure out why you left so suddenly.”

  “You don’t think that makes me suspicious in his eyes?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugs. “You had such a good cover. Hope you have a good alibi, a touching story as to your whereabouts.”

  “How do we explain you? Is this a little reunion of sorts? Will Moretti be joining us?”

  “Moretti’s dead.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Dead…” He laughs—I don’t know if it’s nerves or lack of emotion, but I find the gesture odd. “They tried to get him out of here quick. He was the only one found out by Paolo. Pretty sure it was one of Rubio’s men that had him taken out. Haven’t been able to prove it.”

  “Wow. I had no idea.”

  “How would you? Once you left, this life was over for you.”

  “Wasn’t it for you?”

  “I returned, just two days after you were sent from Atlanta. I helped them close up some loose ends after we discovered Moretti’s death. Once that was finished, this is the first I’ve heard anything since.”

  “I can’t believe we’re back here.”

  “There’s a couple of other people who won’t be able to believe it either.”

  “Does she know?”

  “Didn’t think to tell her.” He winks at me before retraining his eyes on the motorway.

  “I’m engaged.” I don’t know why I blurt that out. I’m sure Charlie doesn’t care.

  He doesn’t respond so I let that part of the conversation die down. There will be plenty of time for chitchat, although hopefully not too much. I want to get back home because that’s where I belong. The place where my heart lies, but my mouth doesn’t.

  Idle conversation resumes as we approach the telltale signs of the city center. People are crowding the streets, roaming along the shops and sights, drinking their coffee, staring at the small screens that have become more important to them than the history they’ve immersed their bodies in.

  The splendor of the old architecture still draws me in. Even after spending nearly two years in the area, I can’t get enough. Plus, it has been so long. These eyes have taken in so much, and nothing quite as magnificent as old Rome.