Page 80 of Prosecco with My Professor
I clutch Zola to my chest. What has Santo done?
It takes me a minute to raise my hand and knock once on the door. It opens immediately. Santo stands in the doorway, a hand bracing against the wall.
“I called some of my former students and asked around. You would still have to apply and interview, but I gathered some options for you. It’s no more than the career center would have done for any other student.”
I swallow. I have an appointment with the career center tomorrow. While most of the students find positions through the school, it’s not a requirement. Some students reach out to companies on their own or apply through a network of International MBA universities.
Santo had done some legwork for me. He was giving me a nudge, trying to make up for our mistake.
“Thank you,” I say.
Santo bends down to gather up the papers I’ve dropped, and instead of swapping his cat for them, he moves back and gestures me inside.
The door closes behind me, and I look around his apartment. His table is covered in books and papers, and I raise an eyebrow.
Santo rubs his hand across his beard. “I need an apartment with an office, I think. My previous place, the one you saw in October, had more space, but I gave it up because I had my office at the school, and I never used the extra rooms.” His chuckle is dark.
“I’m sorry you lost your job.”
Santo’s gaze meets mine. “I know you are. But it’s not your fault.” He sighs, eyes shifting away before coming back to me. “Some days, I’m more angry at the university, and some days, I’m more angry at myself. But it’s getting better.”
“What will you do?” The internships on the door had been all over Europe, but none had been in Italy.
Santo folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the wall. “I was going to go to Castello and work on my book.”
“You were? Past tense?”
A smile flickers across Santo’s face, and he raises the stack of papers in his hands. “Every former student I talked to asked if I was going to consult more now. But one of them asked if I would consider joining a mentorship program. I’ve been pursuing both options, but my preference would be to go wherever you go. If you’ll have me.”
He’s dead serious now, earnest as he watches my reaction. Zolameows,and I realize I’m squeezing her too tight. Gently, I let her jump to the floor where she raises her tail and rubs against Santo once before trotting up the stairs to her loft.
“What does that mean?”
“In my dreams, you get the internship that excites you the most. Wherever that takes you, I rent an apartment with enough room for the three of us. I’ll finally finish my book. Maybe I’ll consult, maybe I’ll mentor, maybe I’ll do nothing.”
I give him a skeptical look.
“Unlikely,” he allows. “But a possibility.”
“You would make a great mentor,” I add. “You should do that. But I have to come back here in the fall.”
“Yes. That is why I will leave my options open.”
“I was going to go back to Texas after graduation,” I warn him.
Santo reaches out, tugging my braid. “By then, we will be wildly in love with each other, and I’ll follow wherever you go,” he repeats. “If you’ll have me.”
I nod and throw my arms around Santo’s neck. I might already be a little bit in love with him. No one has ever seen so much potential in me like he has.
Santo wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in tight. We stand there, his hand gently stroking my back and me inhaling deeply, breathing Santo in. His embrace feels so good, and I love the dreams he has for our future.
When we pull apart, Santo grins at me. “Why don’t we open the bottle and celebrate?”
Epilogue
Emma
Months later…
