Dean hadn't slept after he'd hung up with Adam. Something was going on. He'd lain awake trying to puzzle it through in his mind. Was Adam being honest with him? He was acting weird and had changed his story a few times. He'd been weird on the phone tonight. Adam was his best friend. But, if that were true, why did he trust his new Borgo family over Adam, who seemed so far away. Something had happened between Adam and Sara. She'd hinted at it. Plus, Stella hated Adam, which was not a good sign.

Now it was 8:00 a.m., and he'd decided that even if he couldn't figure out what was going on with Adam, he was convinced he needed to end another relationship back home. He dialed Isabella's mobile. She picked up after the second ring, her greeting husky with sleep.

"In bed already at 11:00 o’clock, Isabella? That doesn't seem like you."

There was the shuffle of bedclothes, and he imagined her sitting up in the dark of their bedroom. "It figures the only night I need my beauty rest is the night you call so late. What do you want?"

Dean's resolve steeled around him. He shouldn't be in a relationship with this girl.

"You don't like me very much, do you, Izzy?"

"Oh God, don't call me Izzy. What do you mean I don't like you? I live with you, don't I?"

"Yeah, you live with me. But you don't like me much. In fact, I'm not sure you've ever liked me."

"Dean baby, are you okay? Is this going to take long? I have a 6:00 a.m. call in the morning."

He sighed. How had he missed this? "No - it won't take long. I think we've made a mistake Isabella. I don't think we're a great match. I'm sorry but I think we should separate. We can say it’s all my fault. It won't reflect on you."

There was silence and then a scuffle as though she were shifting the phone. "Adam told me you might not be yourself. That this... thing that's wrong with you might make you crazy for a while. You don't want to break up with me, Dean. I'm the perfect woman for your image, your career."

Dean heard Stella bashing around in the kitchen and the smell of warmed brioche drifted into his room. "Well, I've realized I don't care much about my image, Izzy. You can stay in the house as long as you need to. Adam will help you find somewhere else if you'd like."

There was a long silence. For a minute he thought she'd hung up but then she sighed, "Big mistake, Dean." She hung up the phone.

* * *

Dean nearly skipped his way down to Hazel's. He felt ten pounds lighter somehow. During his breakfast with Stella fussing, pushing brioche at him and refilling his coffee, he'd realized that he didn’t care about Isabella… or Adam. Hollywood felt so far away from here. He'd realized that much of his recent stress and worry came from the constant battle to remain relevant in a town obsessed with the new. But in Borgotaro people looked upon the new in suspicion. It was tradition that ruled here, tradition, relationships, family and living for this moment right now.

Borgotaro had seeped into his blood. He wasn't worried about the career he was beginning to realize he might not even want. Isabella could worry about her image. He wasn't worried about his own. He wanted to live in the right now; right in this moment. He wanted to eat long, lazy meals with his Italian family (Stella felt increasingly like a Mom to him). He wanted to spend time with Hazel, as much as he could, and he wanted to forget about movie cameras, questionable best friends and selfish girlfriends.

“Good morning!” he called into the empty kitchen as he entered the house. The room was rich with the scent of coffee and toast, but there was no one around.

Indigo poked her head around the corner. She looked from side to side as though she were scouting the room. She said, “Wait here,” and then disappeared. What the heck was going on now?

She was back in seconds with a pen and legal pad in hand. “Do you have the credentials to enter the spy zone?” He searched her face for some hint of a joke, but it was deadly serious.

“What do you mean, Indigo? What spy zone?”

“Apparently, this house is a lousy spy zone.” She threw her pad and pencil down and crossed her arms over her chest. If she could’ve gotten away with stamping her foot, he thought, she would have done that too. “Hazel and Stefano have locked themselves in the office, and they won’t let me in. Stefano said something about a secret mission. Why am I not allowed to know the secret mission? It’s exceptionally unfair.”

“Oh, calm down, Mother.” Hazel entered the kitchen and threw a grin in Dean’s direction that almost knocked him over. She was flushed pink with excitement and Dean was thrilled she hadn’t gone back to buttoned up Hazel. Her hair was down and a little wild and she was wearing her tiny shorts and a paint-splashed t-shirt. She grabbed a scrunchie from the counter and pulled her hair into a bun. Dean wanted to run over and grab her hand to stop her, he loved her hair free, but he was good and kept control. He wasn’t sure how much Hazel wanted to share about their current status, whatever that status was.

“I’m not on a secret mission, Mother. Stefano was just helping me out with something. We’ll tell you about it later. Right now we all have to get to work.” Her mood reminded Dean of his own and he hoped that yesterday was the reason for hers, like it was for his. She was a bundle of energy and couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Her skin was glowing with palpable joy. He’d never seen her guard down so low. Even Indigo’s mouth was gaping. Then Hazel shocked him even more by crossing the room, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the lips, making a smacking sound. “Mwah! Boy did I miss you!”

He laughed and gripped her tiny waist in his hands, pulling her even closer so he could whisper, “I missed you too.”

“Okay, stop right now!" Indigo yelled. "There is too much going on here that I don’t know about. Not that it wasn’t obvious that this,” and she pointed at Dean's hands and circled her finger around, “would happen. You two are disgustingly transparent, right Stefano?” Stefano was grinning happily, and he nodded his head.

Dean dropped Hazel’s waist and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. He belonged here. The thought popped into his head out of nowhere, but he knew it was right. He belonged right here, standing next to this woman, holding her hand. He could feel it in his bones. He vowed right there and then that he would never let her down. What that meant he didn’t know yet, but he couldn’t wait to find out.

Hazel let go of his hand and moved to the table, ignoring Indigo and picking up her stack of papers, now neatly organized with colored tabs and filled with highlights.

“Right! Operation Zanre house! Are we ready? Let’s go!”