by Lynn, Sophia
"My friends call me Penny," she offered hesitantly, and he grinned, taking her hand again as he had in the museum.
"Penny Bright," he said with a slight laugh, and she winced.
"Don't remind me, I got enough of that at school," she muttered, but then she shook herself and stood up straighter.
Ziyad laughed, and when she looked offended, he explained it to her.
"I like it when you are yourself," he said kindly. "You are a lovely young woman, and even if Rome does not know how to cherish beauty, I can tell you very well that my homeland does. I like it when you speak to me as yourself."
A rosy blush came up on her cheeks, and she opened her mouth only to close it several times.
"I think you are being entirely too kind," she said finally.
Ziyad knew he would only spook her if he started off too strong this early in the game, so he raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I am too kind at all. Say rather that I am being honest. However, have your way with it. Only remember that in the end, I usually get my way instead."
She looked faintly alarmed at this speech, but he moved them forward briskly.
"What will you need for your instruction?" he asked, and she smiled. There was something about her that genuinely loved children, he thought. She lit up like a star at the mention of her work, and for a moment, he almost felt guilty.
"Oh, well, that really depends on the child," Penny said enthusiastically. "Most children learn best when they are in a quiet place with no distractions, but even then, they still need to take breaks to keep them stimulated. They need to be able to get up, stretch their legs, rest their growing minds, you know? With the kind of work I do, I usually don't find it necessary to make them hold still for more than say, half an hour at a time. Then we all get up, stretch, grab a drink and come back with fresh minds."
A cloud crossed her face and she looked up at him a little anxiously. "That is...as long as that is all right with you?"
He laughed, nodding. "You are, after all, the expert. Come this way, and I'll show you the room that you can use."
She followed behind him and gasped again as they stepped into the solar, which was an upper chamber commonly found in many medieval English homes. Where the rest of the penthouse had plenty of modern touches, there was something positively antique about the solar that he liked. An enormous bay window looked down into the bustling street, and there were shelves of books lining half the wall. Parked in front of a currently-empty fireplace were a pair of overstuffed wing chairs and a divan, both done up in coppery velvet.
"Oh, it's beautiful," she said in surprise. "What wonderful light. I am sure that I and my charge will have no problems here, Mr...Ziyad," she corrected herself. "When can I meet my pupil?"
Ziyad paused for a moment, more for effect than anything else.
"Well," he said after a moment. "Would you prefer me to introduce myself again, or should I go out the door and come back in?"
Chapter Four
For a long moment, Penny only stared at Ziyad, wondering what was happening. In that moment, it was like every dark dream she’d had in high school had come true. Despite what her grandmother had always said, they were all looking at her and laughing at her, and they were all intent on making fun of her.
"What?" she asked, her voice as small as a mouse.
Ziyad seemed utterly incapable of understanding that he had made a mockery of everything she stood for. She waited for him to reveal that it was all a joke, to trot forward a bold little girl in ribbons or a shy little boy who could barely mutter hello. Instead, he only stood at the center of the floor, grinning as if she should be incredibly pleased.
"Excuse me?" she asked, and even to her own ears her voice sounded thin and reedy.
His grin never faded.
"Am I being too subtle? All right. I hired you to help me with my English," he said proudly. "I saw something in you that I liked at the museum, and I knew it was something that...well, would serve me very well."
"You can't be serious," she said, taking a shocked step back from him. "No, please don't tell me you did this?"
He cocked his head to one side, and suddenly she knew that he had no idea what he had done or why she should be upset.
"See, this is why I need an English tutor," he joked. "I can see you are unhappy, but I cannot for the life of me tell why. Very well. I hired you because I saw something I wanted at the museum, and I thought this might be a fun way to bring us together again."
It didn't help; in fact, all it seemed to do was make her more confused.
"So because you saw...something you liked at the museum...you decided to donate money to a random school and find me to teach you English, English that you do speak very well, by the way?"
"Well, if you had any problems at that school, they are gone now," he said, and she wondered in some confused portion of her mind if he sounded the faintest bit irritated and bewildered. The rest of her, so used to trying to stay calm and manage whatever crisis had appeared, was still trying to sort out what exactly had happened to her.
"Oh my god," she whispered, slumping down in the window seat.
Blankly, Penny stared out the window, looking down at the people on the street below. Everyone moved with such purpose and resolve. What was that like? Would she ever get there? The things that had happened today, that she had allowed to happen, suggested she would not.
To his credit, he looked concerned, coming to kneel down on the floor next to her, one hand on her limp arm to hold her steady.
"Penny, what's the matter?" he said in confusion. "I honestly thought you would be thrilled..."
"Oh my god," she repeated and turned her eyes to him. She felt like an animal caught in a trap, and as she looked up at him, she saw that he didn't even have a clue.
"I can't believe you decided to...to buy me!"
He rocked back on his heels as if she had slapped him. It wasn't anger on his face then, which made her feel a bit safer. Instead, it was incredulity and shock.
"What are you saying? I would never do that," he disputed hotly, but she yanked her hand away from him, rearing back like a cobra getting ready to strike.
"Are you sure?" she asked angrily. "Are you very, very sure? Because from where I’m sitting, that is exactly what it looks like you did!"
When Ziyad might have argued with her, she continued, steamrolling right over him. There was something in the back of her mind that cheered her on, that told her it felt good, better than good to let loose, as if it had been waiting for her to do so for years.
"You saw me while I was working with a class of children, and you decide that, what, maybe you want to have me for some kind of collection? Like I'm a rare bird or some kind of fine wine for your cellar? You find out more about me, god knows how, you find out where I work, and then you come to my employers with an offer that you know very well I cannot refuse?"
He did look shocked at that, his mouth slightly open, and she pressed her advantage, rage refusing to allow her to do otherwise.
"My god, what Martella and Pietro must think about me," she raged. "When they get a letter from a mysterious benefactor who wants me so badly that he can offer to improve their arts program..."
She shook her head, and the things that had happened that day in the office started to make more sense.
"They all but told me my job was on the line if I didn't accept," she said bitterly. "They told me how good it was for me, and all the time, they knew or at least they guessed. They knew that no contract that came through this was a real thing."
She turned accusing eyes on Ziyad.
"There are students on YouTube who are willing to help you improve your English for free. If you can find your way to passing them a small amount of coin, there are students in England, the United States, Canada, South Africa and Singapore who will be more than happy to assist you for as long as you want. There was no reason to hire me."
"I did not hire you because..."
"No, you
didn't," she snarled, rising up out of the window seat. It was terrifying. It was electrifying. It was as if her anger were lifting her up out of her shock and giving her the power to do things she had never dared to do before.
"You decided you would make my employers think I was some kind of whore! They do not know exactly what it is that you are about, but they knew whenever I finally made my way to it today, that we would not be learning English. God, I can't imagine what Monday is going to be like. Are they even going to let someone they see as a...a common prostitute teach their children? God, who knows..."
Ziyad stood as well, and for the first time, she was not impressed that he towered over her. Instead, she was only angry, and that felt pure and simple at the very least.
"You are overreacting," he said at last. "Calm down, there is nothing..."
She smiled.
Ziyad must have been disarmed by her smile because he paused to look down at her in surprise. That made it all the easier to line up her shot and then to bring her palm cracking across his cheek. The sound echoed throughout the gorgeous penthouse as if she had fired a gun, and though her hand ached, Penny was uncertain that she had ever felt as satisfied as she did just then.
"No," she said sweetly. "I am not going to calm down. And I am not going to stand here any longer and listen to you do...whatever it is you think you are doing here. You might think I am for sale. At this point, Martella and Pietro almost certainly do. What I know, Ziyad, is that I am not. Not for you. Not for any price."
Turning on her heel, she walked quickly to the door. After everything that had transpired between them, she thought there was a chance that he might run after her to talk to her, to bring her back, but there were no footsteps following her.
Feeling both relieved and strangely disappointed, she took the elevator to the ground floor.
She couldn't spend too much time worrying about him. Right now, what she needed was to make sure she salvaged what was left of her reputation, and she frankly had no idea how to do it.
***
ZIYAD’S FACE WAS still warm and oddly tender after her blow. After she spun away, he touched the side of his face that she had struck, wondering at the heat and the sting.
Then he heard the elevator ring, and he crossed to the window. In a few moments, she had walked out of the building, her head held high and her spine an iron rod. He was impressed by her composure, but after a few steps, it was gone. She drooped towards the ground as if she had lead weights in her limbs, and she slowed. Even with her new gait, however, it took her just a little time to walk down the street out of sight.
With a loud sigh, Ziyad put his hands over his face and threw himself on the couch. He wasn't quite sure he had ever failed so hard with a woman, and he couldn't even summon up the righteous indignation he knew his peers would have. He could hear them now, angrily speaking of how much money he had spent, how charming he had been, and how blind she had been not to see it.
However, unlike so many of the people that Ziyad had known, Penny had no reason to lie to him, no reason to inflate his ego or to stay on his good side. She had made that abundantly clear. Instead, she had told him the whole truth, unvarnished and completely without mercy.
When he realized how hurt she’d sounded on her way out of his apartment, it made the blow to his cheek seem like nothing at all. He was a foreigner to Italy as much as she was, but he had been here long enough to know how conservative the people were. She wasn't far wrong that they might decide she was little better than a common street walker. He thought the money he had funded for the school would likely prevent them from firing her, but that might not mean much if she was given the cold shoulder at every opportunity. He winced, remembering how obvious it had been that Penny loved her job. She loved her work, and there was a chance that he had stopped her from doing it in any way, shape or form in Italy.
Ziyad would willingly admit that he did not know much, but he knew he needed to fix this. He needed to make things right for her, and he needed to find a way to do it immediately.
His phone rang, and he rolled up to a sitting position. Penny had his number, didn't she? It would have been on the paperwork they signed. Perhaps she was calling to tell him she had forgiven him, that she understood what he was trying to do...
"Hello?"
"Well, hello, lover," purred the voice on the other end of the line. "You certainly sound frantic and eager about something... Maybe it's something I can help you with?"
Ziyad frowned. "Who is this?"
The laugh that came through was tinny; he didn't think it was a real one.
"Oh come on. I was in bed with you just a few nights ago. Blonde, white lace panties? If you need me to refresh your memory, just..."
"Ah, Carissa," he said, standing up and starting to pace. "I'm sorry, but do you need something?"
He could tell she was taken aback before she discovered her élan again. "Well, not really. I was more thinking about what you need..."
I need a time machine, he thought grimly. I need to have a brain in my head, and I need to have not hurt a woman who only wanted to do her goddamn job...
He said none of those things.
Instead, he shook his head.
"No, I'm afraid I do not need anything from you at this time, Carissa," he said curtly. "I am having some issues that I need to attend to, and when I want to speak to you next, I will certainly let you know."
He was only aware after he said it how cold it sounded, how he had treated a woman propositioning him as if she were applying for a job. In an unpleasant way, of course, she was. Whether as his long-time mistress or a short-term girlfriend, she could likely go far if she stuck with him. But right now, Ziyad wanted nothing to do with this game.
There was a brief pause on the line.
"Bastard," Carissa spat, none of the purring false warmth in her voice now, and she hung up.
Ziyad stared at the phone for a moment, wondering what the right reaction was here.
The one that bubbled up the most was rueful laughter.
It was a shame. When Carissa had spoken to him free of pretense, completely without consideration for what he might have thought of her because everything was over, he had been fleetingly interested in her again.
Of course, there was another woman who he had never heard put up a false front like that. She had just landed a cracking blow on his jaw, and then she had stormed out as if her heart was broken and all she had left was her fire and her will.
She was the one he wanted, even though a part of his brain was whispering strange things about fate and electricity to him. All Ziyad knew was that he could not afford to lose Penny, not like this.
And so he sat down, contacted some people he knew very well, and started to plan.
Chapter Five
The rest of the weekend, Penny stayed in her flat. It was a tiny place, a narrow little room with no closet and only a large wardrobe for her clothes. The new green suit looked ridiculously out of place with her soft dresses and baggy skirts, and right now, she could barely stand to look at it. When she caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye, she felt as if she were going to be sick.
When hunger loomed, she scurried down to the market right before it closed and brought back pieces of day-old bread, hard cheese, and a small orange drink. It occurred to Penny that she was reverting to the habits of childhood, when everything had been too much and she had gone so skinny because even eating was more stress than she could deal with.
The food tasted like flavorless flour in her mouth, however, and more often than not, she left it unfinished.
Penny tried to plan for Monday, but there was really nothing she could do about it. She was going to walk into school, and the other teachers and Martella would do whatever they were going to do. They might very much like the money that Ziyad had offered them, but that did not mean they were going to like having a woman of loose morals on their staff.
She had actually heard one of the other t
eachers use that phrase. She had never heard it before outside of a Gothic novel, but there it was, plain as day. That had been about something as simple as a pair of teenagers parking to make out in the suburbs, but the vitriol in the woman's voice had been plain.
What would they think of her now that she was permanently going to be considered a woman of loose morals? Hell, would she even have a job for much longer? She knew from wretched experience how miserable co-workers could make a job when they didn't like you.
I'll have to go back to the United States, she thought, or maybe I'll be left in such dire straits that I'll have to eat crow and go back to Ziyad, offering to take up my 'tutoring' duties...
She flinched from the idea. Not that. Never that. She would beg in the streets and sell flowers before she gave in to that...even if there was a part of her body that longed for him.
She looked down at her body in disbelief. In her ancient T-shirt and a pair of terry-cloth shorts, it was hard to imagine this being a body that was suited for a man who had as much money as Ziyad obviously did, but it apparently was. She pushed aside the thought of what it might be like to feel that electricity between them spark to life, what it might be like played out on her skin, not just on her hand, but all of her.
She shook her head hard and started to pace, hugging herself tightly. No. She had her pride, even if he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, even if a part of her secretly, shamefully wanted to do exactly what her co-workers were likely already assuming she did.
Finally, she fell into a dark and restless sleep. Her dreams were odd and fragmentary things, full of shadows and light. In them, Penny knew she needed to get to some location to speak with someone specific, but for the life of her, she could not figure out who she was supposed to find. Somewhere in the distance, someone was calling her name, but she couldn't figure it out. All she could do was look harder, even as she realized that time was simply running out...
***
MONDAY HAD NO right to be as beautiful as it was. It was one of those rare spring days in Rome, almost as crisp as the winter freeze but with a sneaking warmth that would turn to a damp humidity in summer. It seemed unfair, Penny thought, that Rome could be this beautiful when all she could think about were dark things.
