She stared at it astonished, unsure about whether to knock or just waltz in. The other buildings around it were also very old, seemed to have been teleported from another era. The streets had no division whatsoever between sidewalk and road. Several bicycles zoomed by, ridden by gentlemen in tuxedos, elderly women, young females in high heels and skirts, teenagers with enormous backpacks on their shoulders… Some motorcycles and a few cars would rarely make an appearance. Countless busses also passed, but the majority of citizens of Florence apparently preffered to move around the city by bike.

The blonde was considering to go with the flow and buy one, as well as a very detailed map of the place, when the door to her building suddenly opened up. She leaped in surprise and glanced at the one who softly chuckled at her reaction.

Oh. My. God.

Ms. Kennard found that her eyes were straining to encompass the beautiful, exquisite woman in front of her. The unfamiliar woman leaned against the trimmed doorframe, her silky black hair shining under the indirect sunlight. Her skin was lightly tanned, cheeks naturally flushed, irises a stunning, emerald green. She was tall and had a slightly curvy body, delicate features, lovingly muscled arms and legs.

‘Uh, Bon- Bon Giorno’, Tina stutterred as her heart pounded too hard against her chest, a silvery chill running through her belly. ‘Io sono la ragazza americana…’  "I’m the american girl…" She parroted back the words Marina had taught her, pronunciation as close to the desired one as possible. Her head had blanked out, though, and she couldn’t remember the rest.

‘Ah, you must be Tina Kennard.’ The woman’s eyes lit up in understanding, her accented English charming to hear. ‘Welcome to our team. My name’s Patricia Arpino.’ She extended a hand, a formal gesture, while openly apprasing the blonde from head to toe.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ She shook the offered hand, felt her cheeks get warmer and blush for an unknown reason. ‘I didn’t know if I should knock or just walk in.’

‘Oh, don’t be shy. You should’ve paraded inside. Come on in.’ Patricia smiled invitingly, her husky voice cloaking an extra meaning to these words.

They walked into a reception area. The walls were white, adorned with several soothing paintings of landscapes. There were countless plush chairs and three grey sofas lining the walls, for people to sit down while they waited to be attended.