Page 132 of Stealing Home

“No,” she says. “It was—”

She breaks off, her eyes widening, as Robert Meier walks over to us.

“He’s terrifying,” she whispers.

“Miss di Angelo,” he says, holding out his hand. “It was a pleasure to finally meet the student Beatrice speaks of so highly.”

I shake it. “It’s nice to meet you as well, sir.”

He’s a tall, thin man with eyes like chips of ice, carefully combed hair, and a slight accent. Despite the warm June weather outside, he’s wearing slacks and a pullover sweater. I hope he didn’t hear what Penny just said. He’s not scary, just intense.

I glance around; my family is standing off to the side, mercifully quiet—and very obviously listening in.

“I understand that you have some interest in my international undergraduate program,” he says.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m looking to take on ten students next year,” he says. “Only those that I feel are both serious and passionate about research, and it’s clear that you have both in spades. You have a mind for the details, and that’s harder to find than you’d assume.”

Professor Santoro walks over, a cup of coffee in hand and a small smile on her face. “I see you’ve met each other.”

“Yes,” he says. “I was just telling Miss di Angelo that she has a spot in my program, assuming she’s willing to accept.”

I think my heart stops beating for a moment. “Are you serious?”

“This wouldn’t be a typical study abroad program, but I think you know that already. The research we’ll be doing is already in your area of interest, so perhaps it could even be the start of what will one day grow into your dissertation.” He raises one thin eyebrow. “You are going into a PhD program after your undergraduate degree is out of the way, yes?”

I nod. “Definitely.”

“Good,” he says. “Please don’t let me keep you from your family. I’ll be in touch about the program details soon.”

“I’d love to introduce you to Alice Farley,” Professor Santoro says, although she’s smiling at me. “She’s one of my graduate students, you’ll hear her present later.”

I stare at the two of them as they walk in the direction of the refreshments. Penny tries to pull me into another hug, but Giana beats her to it.

“Mi-Mi,” she says. “I’m so sorry I was rude to you.”

“Oh,” I say. “It’s—”

“It was bad,” she says. She takes my face in her hands, looking at me with tears in her big brown eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said about you.”

My head spins in circles. The high from the presentation, Robert Meier, and now this… it’s a perfect moment.

Almost perfect.

“Gi-Gi,” I say, “not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here? Why are all of you here?”

She cups my cheek for a second before stepping back. “Sebastian.”

The sound of his name on her lips sends an ache through my heart. “What?”

“He called us,” Mom says, coming over to pull me into a hug. “How many times, honey?”

“At least a dozen,” Dad grumbles, kissing the top of my head. “He drove down to talk to us, too.”

“Twice,” Nana says, a touch of dryness in her tone. “He’s a nice boy, but very insistent.”

“Anthony couldn’t get away, but he would have been here if he could,” Mom says. “He went out with Sebastian the other day.”

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