Page 28 of My Italian Love Affair

Smart as hell.

Graduated top of her class in London. Landed a job at The Tribune straight out of university.

She’simpressive.

And she makes no sense.

She’s not from football - that much is abundantly clear, from all of the research I’ve managed to squeeze in over the last twenty-four hours.

But if she’s always been interested in the game, why hasn’t she been involved before now? Why jump straight into this world?

Because that’s what it is - aworld. A tight-knit, cutthroat one.

You don’t just drop into football journalism. Not unless you’re obsessed with it. Not unless youloveit.

And she told me she did.

Love it,she’d said.It’s my favorite thing in the world.

But was that the truth, or was she just another journalist doing the usual trick of saying what she thinks I want to hear?

I’m not sure why I even care about the answer.

I tell myself it’s because she’s an outsider. It’s only natural that I’m interested, that I want to know what she’s doing here.

I shake it off, tightening my focus -

But it doesn’t last long.

I’ve worked with plenty of female journalists before. Some sharp, some talented, and some just doing the job for the money. They have always been polite and professional, well-mannered and pleasant.

None of them have ever looked at me like I was nothing special.

Like I was anuisance.

Most people - even the ones who don’t like me - at least respect my talent, along with the game. They respect what I’ve done and the name I’ve made for myself, the career I have established.

But she hardly seems impressed by any of it.

I’d go as far as saying it was like I wasn’t even worth her time.

I should find that annoying.

Instead, I find itinteresting.

Ilikewomen. No, screw that - Ilovewomen. I respect them, adore them, and would quite literally die for them if needed.

But the women I’m used to don’t look at me the way she did.

The women I’m used to don’tchallengeme like she did.

And that?

That makes her dangerous.

“Rossi!”

I blink as Luca nudges me.

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