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chambers—rooms, she corrected.
    Following Riley’s voice, she stepped into one flooded with light, where Riley paced and talked very fast on the phone in a mix of English and Italian.
    â€œ
Che cazzo
, Fabio! What kind of deal is that? Two weeks minimum, and likely four or six weeks.
Stronzate
. Don’t try to hose me. I could go to a stranger and get a better rate. Okay, that’s what I’ll do. Oh, and I’ll be contacting your mother while I’m here. She and I really need to have a nice chat because I find my memory about that night in Naples is coming back. Same to you,
amico.
”
    She listened, listened, her smile going sharp and satisfied. “
Quanto?
Better, some better, but . . . I really miss talking to your mother. Oh, that’s for two weeks? Now you’re talking. That works, you keep the deposit either way. What’s that?”
    Riley threw back her head and laughed. “Baby, you
wish
I was squeezing your balls. Four-week minimum’s a deal. We’ll pick it up tomorrow. She’d better be seaworthy, Fabio, or remember how I pulled your ass out of the fire in Naples? I’ll be shoving it right back in.
Ciao
.”
    She swiped off the call, swaggered over to Annika. “High-five.”
    When Annika looked toward the ceiling, Riley laughed again. “No, no, slap my hand. It’s a high five. It’s a fucking A. We’ve got a boat, and I wrangled the cost down.” She rolled her shoulders. “I did squeeze the little asshole’s balls.”
    â€œWhat kind of balls?”
    Riley pointed at her crotch. “Those kind.”
    â€œOh, yes. I know those kind. But how did you squeeze his balls when . . . It’s an expression.”
    â€œYou’re catching on. The diving equipment was easy. Fabio’s cousinAnna Maria’s in charge of that, and she’s giving us rock-bottom rate. I’d have taken Fabio’s next-to-the-last rate if he hadn’t tried to squeeze
my
balls first. Anyway.” She shoved the phone in her pocket, dusted her palms together. “Done. And I’ve got the sister of a friend’s boyfriend who’ll lend us his van for gas and beer if we need it.
    â€œSo, where’s everyone else?”
    â€œSasha and Bran are up the stairs making magicks. I think Sawyer and Doyle are still in the grove for the training part.”
    â€œAll right then. You need to put on pants.”
    â€œPants.”
    â€œYeah, those ones that hit about here?” Riley tapped the flat of her hand just above her knee. “The ones with all the pockets. And the tank you can tuck into them. I want to work on some of my moves, and you’ve got the best. And we’ll work on your hand-to-hand. But you can’t go doing flips in that dress, especially since there’s nothing under it.”
    â€œI like dresses better than pants.”
    â€œMaybe so, but when you go commando and do handsprings and flips, you’re flashing.”
    â€œFlashing?”
    â€œThe girl parts, Anni. The parts we tend—right or wrong—to think of as private. Maybe we’ll get you some bike shorts. You could wear them under a dress.”
    â€œBike shorts.”
    â€œWe’ll look into it. But for now, go ahead and change. I’ll see if Bran can spare Sasha. She needs the work.”
    â€œShe does better.”
    â€œYeah, she does,” Riley agreed as they started upstairs. “You’re a good coach.”
    â€œThank you. I like to help.”
    Pleased, even if she had to wear pants, Annika went to her room to change, and wound her hair into a long, thick braid.
    She left her windows open, and though she would go outside, took a moment to lean out, drink in the air, the fragrance, her view of the sea.
    On the narrow road below, she saw people walking up the steep, steep hill in boots and shorts. Maybe they were bike shorts, but she knew what a bike was, and they