With a nod, I take the stack from his hand, careful not to brush my fingertips with his. I keep one copy and pass the rest to my neighbor. While the list of tasks is being distributed, I glance quickly at them to see what I have to do. I gasp out loud when I see my name next to interviewing the cast and the director of one of the movies showcased in the festival. That’s the best task on the list, in my opinion. Did Alistair do this to redeem himself?

I look up to find him watching me closely.

“Ugh, I can’t work on the archives. I’m highly allergic to dust,” a guy complains. “Can I do something else?”

Alistair frowns at him before glancing at the list again. After a moment, he says, “You can help with the setup and cleanup during the event.”

“Oh great. Labor work. Why can’t I be the one interviewing the movie cast?” He turns to me, glowering. “I’m on the school paper, after all.”

My spine goes rigid right before I open my mouth to reply, but Alistair beats me to it.

“I’m not responsible for the tasks’ assignment, but I stand by what Mrs. Weiland has in place.”

The guy looks pissed, but he doesn’t argue further. As for me, I’m glad Alistair didn’t assign the interview to me. I don’t want any favors because his conscience is too heavy.

“We still need someone to handle the archives,” he says as he looks around the room.

No one volunteers though. Since I already got the best assignment possible, I raise my hand. “I don’t know what it entails, but I’ll do it.”

The look I get from Alistair is not one of relief. It’s pained. Why? I don’t get it.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes, unless you don’t think I can handle it.” I raise an eyebrow at him.

He stares at me without blinking for a few seconds before he turns and sits on the edge of his desk.

“I’ll go over the list and explain each task, but I want to give you a brief overview of the festival first, especially for those who are new here. Every year DuBose organizes the Annual Film Festival, usually focusing on a theme or a country. This year we’re showcasing Italy, but not only movies made in Italy. The festival covers it all, from wide popular movies set in Italy to films starring Italian actors or directed by an Italian director.”

“Thank God. How boring would it be to just watch movies in Italian?” the same dude who was complaining about the archives task pipes up.

“Boring for someone closed-minded,” I reply, glaring at the idiot.

“I’m not closed-minded. It’s hard to understand a movie when I have to read the subtitles.”

“Someone here can’t multitask.” Valerie snickers.

“Okay, enough,” Alistair cuts in. “Let’s go over the tasks.”

He briefly explains each item on the list. I’m still aggravated by the lazy guy’s comment, so I don’t pay much attention. I also don’t want to look at Alistair, because his nearness is making it extremely hard to pretend that he doesn’t affect me. I can smell his cologne from my chair, and it’s doing my head in.

I’m busy drawing doodles on my paper when Alistair calls my name. It startles me, and I end up dropping my pen. He was standing right in front of my chair, so he bends over to get it. Instead of standing up, he offers me the pen while he’s still in his crouch position. In an instant, I become ensnared by his intense blue gaze. I feel a crazy fever taking over me. He’s devouring me with his eyes like he did back in Italy.

Hell and damn. Does he want me to turn into a ball of goo in front of everyone?

I grab the pen quickly before I combust on the spot. “Thanks.”

My reply seems to wake him up. He stands and turns around, walking in the opposite direction.

“Okay, that was weird,” Valerie whispers to me.

I don’t comment because how can I? It wasn’t weird. It was stupid. Does he want people to know we were involved?

“Uh, Mr. Walsh, weren’t you going to explain what Chiara’s assignment is? I’m kind of curious,” the lazy guy says.

“Right. Chiara, I’ll send you the contact detail of Giulio Bertollini’s assistant. He’s the director of—”

“I know who he is,” I cut him off.

Everyone in Italy knows the guy. He’s one of the most brilliant movie directors in the country.

“Right. Well, she’ll be your main contact person. I’m afraid that’s all the information Mrs. Weiland had for you, but if you need my help, you know my door is always open.”

My jaw drops of its own accord. I can’t believe he said that with a straight face.

“Oh, shoot. What time is it?” Valerie asks.

“Five, I think,” I say.

She stands up suddenly. “I have to go. I’m already late for an appointment.”

The other volunteers follow her lead. This meeting was only supposed to last half an hour.

Not wanting to be left behind alone with Alistair, I collect my things and head for the door without sparing him a second glance, but I sense his stare burning through me all the same.

23

Chiara

I sit all the way in the back during film history class, hoping the distance and the students in front of me will create a protective barrier between Alistair and me. Valerie sees me there and takes the chair next to mine.

“Why are you all the way in the back when we have a hotter-than-sin substitute teacher?”

Why does everyone I know keep reminding me how good-looking Alistair is? Like I don’t already know.

“I’m hoping to fly under the radar today. I’m super tired.”

“Smart. I think you caught his attention yesterday.”

My entire body tenses. “Why do you say that?”

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

Damn it, Alistair.

I shrug. “Probably because of my argument with that idiot who didn’t want the archives assignment.”

“Yeah, probably. Mr. Walsh is as serious as it gets. You’d be surprised how many of his female students have tried to seduce him since he started teaching here. He shot them all down.”