Giulia, the receptionist operating the front desk, is organizing her overstuffed space.

She looks over the top of her glasses. “Ciao, Liza,” she says in the same automatic tone as always. But then, she looks down. Her eyes widen. “Oh my, who is this?”

“This is Aiden.” I grunt while picking him up out of his stroller.

He studies her face.

“Say ciao, Aiden,” I say.

“Ciao,” he says.

“What a handsome baby,” Giulia says.

Elsa comes around the corner. “Liza—” She stops dead in her tracks, and her entire face drops. “Is Floriana ill today?”

“No. I’m just… I’m just doing it myself, that’s all.”

Her frown intensifies. “What are you doing by yourself?”

“Taking care of my child.”

She studies me some more, then glances at Giulia, who shrugs. Elsa walks up to Aiden, who’s already giggling at her. “Hello, sweetie. I love seeing your little face, even if your mommy is losing her marbles.” Her eyes roll slowly from his face to mine. “Then Floriana is not ill?”

“I… unhired her.”

“You unhired the nanny?” she repeats slowly.

“Uh huh,” I say, feeling her dissatisfaction with my decision.

Giulia turns her attention away from Elsa, Aiden, and me to answer a ringing phone line.

I sigh, tired of the inquiry. I see no reason why Aiden can’t be here with me today. He’s a good kid. “Look, I know I’m late for the meeting but…”

Elsa waves a hand flippantly. “We don’t need a meeting. Your interview has been canceled. TV Ora stole your interview yet again.”

My jaw drops. “Another one?”

Elsa shakes her head as if she’s still trying to comprehend the full meaning of what I’m presenting to her. She holds up a folded sheet of paper. “This will save you, save us, but first, let’s talk.” Her eyes veer toward Aiden.

I nod curtly. “Okay.”

“I’ll meet you in your office. I must go to accounting.” She shakes her finger. “But I will be right back.”

When I make it to my office, I set Aiden in the chair, then close the door and draw the blinds.

He starts to slide out of the chair. “Play, Momma!”

I watch him fish the portable DVD player out of his bag, hit the on button, and dance and sing with Barney and friends. Damn that purple dinosaur—he’s such a lifesaver.

It only takes about ten minutes for Aiden to plop down on the carpet, lie on his side, and fall asleep. Goodness gracious, I envy a child’s ability to sleep anywhere at any time. I adjust his stroller to make it comfortable for sleeping, scoop him up off the carpet, and lay him in it.

There’s a knock at my door.

“It’s open,” I say.

I look up. It’s Elsa.

“He fell asleep already?”

I walk back to my desk and sit. “The magic of Barney.”

Elsa takes the seat across from mine and sniffs, only mildly amused. “So what has happened in your life to make you fire Floriana?"

I raise a finger to correct her. “Un-hire, not fire.”

She shrugs. “What is the difference?"

“She didn’t do anything wrong. She was a great nanny, but…” I sigh at the gravity of articulating the explanation for my actions.

“Okay so, again, what part of the sky has fallen?”

I sigh and look in her eyes. “My brother called me yesterday.”

I tell her everything that happened, from hearing about John’s arrest to me walking out on Salvatore at the restaurant. She silently shakes her head, seemingly disturbed.

“It’s me, Elsa. I pick the wrong men, and on top of that, I’m turning out to be just like my selfish mother. You know who raised me during my formidable years? Cora May, my nanny. And my mom fired her when I was eleven because I accidentally called Cora my mother in front of her,” I say so fast that my head is spinning.

She puts her hand on mine. “I am very sorry, Liza.”

I look away, biting down on my back teeth. “And John… I killed my father by marrying him.”

“No,” she says quickly. I turn to face her, and she’s waving her finger at me. “You cannot take the blame for what that man has done. People are people, and life holds no guarantees.”

I look at her, confused.

“What I am saying is, there are all sorts of people in this world. Many are good, many are bad, but for the most part, we are all both good and bad. And we will cross paths with the bad ones—we must. The numbers support it. If those bad people hurt you or the ones you love, then it is not your fault as much as a lesson. You grow, and you don’t go back for more.”

“But I went back for more.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “You are not with him now.”

“He left me, remember?”

Elsa shakes her head. “That is not how I remember it. He tried to steal your inheritance, and when you heard about it, you left him. That was your choice.”

My eyebrows furrow. I guess she’s right.

Elsa continues studying me, then lets out a sharp sigh. “We will talk more later. First…” She hands me the folded sheet of paper she showed me earlier.

I take it and unfold the sheet. On it is scribbled a telephone number and address. I look at Elsa, my eyes narrowed.

“That is Gianfranco Guardi’s telephone number and address.”

“The Gianfranco Guardi? The famous artist with the most beautiful estate in this part of the country? The Gianfranco Guardi who has said no seven times to our request for a tour and interview?”

“He also said no to TV Ora.”

“How did you get him to say yes?” I ask.

“The butler called this morning to say he’ll do it.”

My grin grows, and I sit back victoriously in my seat. “Talk about the light at the end of the tunnel!”

Elsa follows in kind. “Yes. What you said.” She nods at me. “Call. Now.”

“Right now?” I’m a little panicked.

If we get this interview signed, sealed, and delivered, then my “street cred” will go up. Gianfranco Guardi says yes, and everyone will follow. The Guardi estate is still a mystery to most people. It was bought by the “infamous” painter Francesco Guardi and has been handed down through the generations. Rumors say that Francesco’s spirit still haunts the halls, and that’s why Gianfranco, the current owner, rarely lets anyone in. I’ve heard that he hosts dinners, but they’re only for his close friends and colleagues, of which I am neither.

“Yes. Now.”

I bop my head giddily as I pick up the phone and dial the number.