Isabella's POV:

I landed in Milan in the bright hours of the morning. The flight from London wasn't as bad as I was afraid it would be. The plane ride wasn't even the thing that worried me most. No, the thing that worried me most was how I would get from the airport to the hotel I was supposed to stay in. I knew a little bit of Italian, but I was still having the jitters on my way there.

Once, I was in the Milan Malpensa airport; I noticed a redhead in front of me whom I knew from one of my classes. Before I could say anything, she turned, and her face lit up in a smile, "Isa, what are you doing here?"

"Samantha, so good to see you. I'm here for the course on the assessment." I wrapped her in a hug. I was thankful I wouldn't be alone in the first few moments in a new city.

Samantha laughed, "Girl, I got in as well. This is going to be so much fun."

I didn't know what she had planned for herself, but whatever she did, it was bound to be fun. Samantha was as fiery as her hair, and all the stereotypes of redhead turned out to be true for her.

"Do you have a way of going to the hotel?" she asked once we let go of each other.

I shook my head, "No, I was planning on asking at the airport for a rental."

"Great, can we do it together? I was planning the same thing," she started walking towards the entrance, where different shops were lined up, and I followed her. I smiled to myself, maybe my summer would be a lot better than I thought at first.

Once we got to our hotel, which the course manager had booked, we noticed that we were on the same floor but only a couple of rooms apart. "Great, do you want to meet up in an hour and then head for brunch?" Samantha asked.

"Sure, that would be great," I answered before we went our separate ways. The hotel room was nice; it had a double bed and a spacious bathroom. I was impressed. The course wasn't cheap, but I wasn't expecting this kind of accommodation. Everything seemed new and clean, and I was happy to see that the room also came with an AC.

I showered to get the aeroplane feel off my skin, and then I changed into a sundress. I knew it shouldn't matter, but I felt more confident about myself when I had an outfit planned out before, and I had planned to go all out in style at this course. I didn't go out much besides my classes and the part-time jobs I had acquired throughout my university years, so I didn't have a lot of places to get myself all dolled up for.

Going to brunch in the streets of Milan was a moment to get dressed, and that was what I was thinking as I was putting on my strappy heel sandals. I texted Samantha that I would be out in a minute before I grabbed my purse and opened the door. There wasn't anyone in the hallway. I made my way up to her room and knocked once.

The door flew open, and Samantha showed up in a green dress that only accentuated her eyes. I could only describe her as a rare beauty. With red hair and almond-shaped green eyes, she looked like a doll straight out of some cartoon. I was wondering how she dealt with all the attention she got from the opposite sex.

Once we got to the brunch spot, she had googled beforehand; I got my answer. She ignored them all. I heard from other classmates that she had a long-term boyfriend, but this just showed me she was committed to him thoroughly. Before another man could ogle her, she made her way to the back. There, we sat down and skimmed through the menu.

When we picked up our dishes, I went to the front to place our order. I tried in Italian and succeeded, even though I got a man behind me a little bit riled up because it took me longer than expected. I didn't care because it was a way for me to practice a language I had wanted to speak for some time. I waited at the side for our coffees while I got a look at the man behind me. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was dressed in a white linen shirt; the sleeves were rolled high up, showing a constellation of tattoos against his skin. His whole outfit screamed, "I am a local, I am comfortable and casual here." However, his posture said something completely different, "I'm lethal."

I wanted to see his eyes, but they were shielded by black sunglasses. I sighed, and his head turned as he eyed me up and down. I was caught in my act of sizing him up. I almost wanted to get on the next flight and not step foot in Italy ever again because I thought I embarrassed myself in front of him. But then I thought again, I probably won't see him again, and he probably won't ever even get to know my name. It was okay. The waitress woke me from my thoughts as she placed our coffee orders in front of me, telling me in Italian that the food would be ready soon and brought to us.

I nodded and made my way towards the back, the tall, dark, and handsome man almost erased from my mind. While we sipped our coffees and waited for the food, we talked about the expectations we had from this course. Samantha wanted to get her credentials up, and I wanted to see how this new knowledge complemented the one I got at my university. Samantha was more career-oriented than I ever thought I could be, and I respected her for that.

Psychology was a cutthroat field, for which I didn't know if I was cut out. I thought my next career move after finishing my master's would be something in the organisational field, just because I didn't think I could make it in counselling. That didn't mean I couldn't do it; my finances just wouldn't let me. I was great at counselling because I was great with words and observing people. There was only one problem: I wasn't confrontational.

That, however, wasn't the case for Samantha; she knew what she wanted, and she wasn't afraid to go get it. I had my doubts; I always had them, but she was brave. At least, that was how I saw her. After our brunch, we made our way to the hotel. A twenty-minute walk turned into half an hour because we made notes on the way of all the restaurants we wanted to try during our stay.

Once we reached the hotel, we noticed the time. It was almost three in the afternoon, which meant that we only had half an hour to find our course hall. We searched for signs in the lobby and walked around a little bit more. When we only had fifteen minutes to spare, I decided to go talk to the receptionist. I prepared a question in Italian before I asked, and even though I probably butchered some words, the receptionist seemed pleased with my attempt.

She told us we had to take the side door, make a left turn, and then just walk until we reached the end. I nodded in understanding and thanked her before I turned around to talk to Samantha, only to crash into a white shirt.

"Sorry," I mumbled instinctively before looking up. But it would be better if I didn't because I crashed into the man from the coffee shop.

"Cazzo," he mumbled under his breath before sidestepping me like I wasn't even there.

I gulped, feeling ignored, but the feelings soon passed as I cut the eye of a familiar redhead coming closer. Once she was in my earshot, I said, "I got the directions, let's go."

She laced her hand around my bicep as she whispered, "Tall, dark, and handsome, and you should go for him."

I shook my head as I made sure we were moving in the direction of the hall, "I don't think so; he might be tall, dark, and handsome, but he is also so out of my league."

Samantha nodded in disappointment as we turned to the left, "If you're going to think like that, then everyone will be out of your league. Besides, a little summer romance wouldn't hurt you."

"Let's get seated; the presentation will begin," I ignored the last part she said. I didn't fall easily; I kept my walls up because I'd watched too many movies to believe a happily ever after existed. I was a scaredy cat when it came to love.

We managed to find two empty chairs in the back, and we made our way towards them. Samantha soon made acquaintances as she started chatting to the people in front of her. I opened my bag and took out the instructions we got for today. I started reading them while getting lost in my thoughts about the last thing Samantha said.

I was beginning to think she was right after all. A little summer romance wouldn't hurt me. It wouldn't be anything serious; I wouldn't marry the man. So, there went my fear of getting burned by the hope of happily ever after. I didn't know where that fear came from. I came from a nuclear family, where my parents were examples of what it meant to put your kids first. I was forever grateful for that, but that also meant that they had forgotten about their relationship. At first, I didn't notice the signs, but as I grew and moved to London for my degree, I saw that they didn't know how to communicate. They only knew how to point out the things they were bothered by on one another. Maybe I was scared that another person would point out my mistakes so often.

I gulped. I didn't like the sound of that. I didn't want to be pessimistic when it came to love, but I still was. My thoughts were cut short when the presenter came into the room and took to the podium.

For the first fifteen minutes, he went over our schedule, which I had memorised in the previous days. Then, he went over all the assessment tools we would be covering during our two weeks here. With every minute that passed, I was feeling more and more comfortable. I could do this; I knew this.

But then the dreaded words came up, "So now, you'll partner up. A bag will go around the hall, and you'll pick out a number. Then you find the person with the same number, and that will be your partner for the rest of the fortnight. Today, we'll do some icebreakers, and tomorrow, we start with the Personality questionnaires."

I already saw a bag that was passed around. I hoped I could draw the same number as Samantha. As I looked around to see how the bag was moving around, my eyes caught on the tall, dark, and handsome man from earlier. He was still dressed in a white linen shirt with glasses now hanging from his side pocket instead of resting on his nose like they did in the coffee shop. I was met with a pair of maroon eyes that were all but warm.

I could see the wheels in his head turning and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. All I could think of was that a wolf in sheep's clothing was watching me.