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All details still on my mind as we finish up in the bathroom and wish each other good night.

Jayla goes to her room and I return to mine. I lay my head down on my pillow and stare up at the dark ceiling unable to do what I scolded Jayla for.

I’m unable to get Rafael Calderone off my mind.

* * *

Francesca waits for us the next morning with a big smile and sunglasses. She calls up to our loft from the curb where Faro is parked in his bumbling little Italian sedan. Jayla and I rush out onto the balcony to see her waving down below.

“Girls! You’re awake,” she says brightly. “Come quickly! We have a day of exploring for you.”

Twenty-three minutes later, we’re piling inside Faro’s car, barely dressed and slightly hungry.

“Do not worry. We will stop for espresso and croissants. We believe in eating well in Sicily.”

“I believe you,” Jayla says. “Last night’s dinner was amazing.”

“So it went well?” Francesca turns in her seat up front to smile at us. “I knew you would enjoy your time at Appetito. Mr. Calderone would not allow for any less. He has had excellent tastes as long as I’ve known him.”

“Have you known him a long time?’

“Our families are from Ragusa. Everyone in the village—in all of Sicily, really—know who he is,” she answers before pivoting topics. “Today we will be taking you sightseeing around Catania. You will get to go shopping at some of the best boutiques. Free of charge.”

My brows knit in surprise. “I didn’t realize this vacation came with a shopping spree too…”

“All expenses paid,” Francesca says as if it’s the end of the discussion.

For the next two hours, Jayla and I are driven along the picturesque coast of Catania. Faro stops at all the tourist locations, where Francesca leads us out and shows us around. We head deeper into the coastal city and visit some of the cathedrals and museums. We stop for espresso and then later gelato and a lunch of authentic Sicilian pizza.

I’m full enough for a nap by the time Francesca starts steering us in the direction of the boutiques she’d mentioned.

Jayla squeals in excitement and grabs my arm to pull me along.

It’s not that I’m not enjoying myself.

Catania is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been in my entire life. It’s almost so beautiful it feels unreal, like some sort of dream.

I’ve filled the camera roll on my phone with pictures of just about everything. The sidewalks. The locals. The coastline. The gorgeous historic stone buildings everywhere you look.

But I can’t shake the feeling I’m missing something.

It’s all just too good to be true. A littletooperfect.

As we walk out of a designer boutique clutching shopping bags, I notice the stares we receive. The locals who quietly whisper to one another and then divert their gazes when they realize I’ve seen them.

Francesca notices too and says, “Everyone recognizes you as the contest winner. You’re a celebrity! Our American princess.”

She’s kidding, yet as we pile back inside Faro’s car, I glance over my shoulder and see that the stares haven’t stopped.

We’re out until dusk. The sky’s lit up in streaks of gold when Faro finally circles back to the loft where we’re staying.

“Go on and rest, girls,” Francesca says. “I hear Mr. Calderone is sending another car for you tonight. I believe it will arrive at eight. That gives you a few hours to relax and then get ready. You should wear one of your new designer dresses.”

“We’ll wear what we want,” I snap.

“Sissy,” hisses Jayla. She returns Francesca’s smile and says, “We got so many goodies, we’ll definitely get a lot of wear out of them. Thanks for taking us out!”

The moment we’re alone, riding up in the caged elevator to our loft, Jayla whacks me with one of her many shopping bags.