A Letter From Florence
The letter came on a Wednesday morning, at the café, because Giulia had given Teresa the café's address for important post and had not told Leo that the address she had given him was not the pensione. Teresa brought it to her at the corner table with a second coffee that Giulia had not ordered, raised her eyebrows once, and went back behind the bar without comment. Teresa had a gift for signalling things without saying them.
Giulia opened the letter at the table. She read it once. She read it a second time, more slowly. Then she folded it back along its creases, put it into the envelope, put the envelope into the pocket of her coat, and sat for a while with her hands around the coffee cup, not drinking.
The offer was better than she had been expecting. It was a two-year partner-track with a named role — *Responsabile del Dipartimento di Restauro*, which was a department that did not currently exist at the firm and which she would be expected to build. The starting salary was more than she had made in any of the three years since she had left the *Soprintendenza*. Benefits, insurance, relocation allowance, a budget for two hires at associate level inside the first twelve months. Conditional on starting in Florence by the second of January. The ministry's lighthouse would be permitted, as an existing commitment; future independent commissions would need to be agreed with the