“Only one and a half. But I worked at it nine hours a day.”

“You studied the Uffizi nine hours a day?”

“I had a lot of time on my hands.”

She gazed at him curiously. With employment an impossibility, Ross wondered why she was spending so much time with him.

“Do you speak Italian?”

“Some. Il mio Italiano è ancora un po’ brutto.”

This made her smile. “Actually, you speak well. Where did you learn?”

“Mostly from books. But I had a few Italian friends in America.”

She gazed at him for a moment without word then said, “Just a moment.” She left the room. She returned accompanied by an older and taller woman with honey-colored hair and blue, square-lensed Gucci sunglasses. She wore leather pants and a silk blouse, with a scarf tied around her throat.

The first woman returned to her desk, and the tall woman sat down in a chair next to her, crossed her legs and smiled at Ross, but said nothing.

“Excuse me, sir, I forgot to ask your name.”

“Ross Story.”

“Story?”

“Sì. Like a book.”

She spoke to the other woman then turned her attention back to Ross. “Signor Story, this is Francesca Punteri. She is one of our guides.”

She smiled at her own introduction. Ross smiled back.

“I have asked Francesca if she could employ you as an assistant. Some of the guides have more work than they can handle or cannot take English-speaking groups because their English is not good enough. For Francesca both are true.”

“My English not so well,” the woman interjected, proving the assertion.

“. . . so they take on others as assistants and split the fee. This way they can make more money. Technically it’s not legal, but there are ways around things in Italy.”

“What is the fee?”

“They usually receive two hundred thousand lire a tour, so about half of that.”

“So I would do the same work and she would take half?”

“Sì.”

“What if I just found groups on my own and took them through the gallery?”

Her expression tightened. “That is prohibited. If you are caught there is a big fine.”

“How big?” Ross said, as if weighing his odds. Her expression tightened more.

“The fine is three million lire.”

Ross’s brow furrowed. “That is a big fine. Who would catch me?”

“You must have a badge to lead a group. There is much security here, of course. And there are the other guides. Not all of them are busy. They protect each other.”

“I think half is too much to give away,” Ross said.

“And you would keep all tips for yourself, of course,” she added. “I think it is a fair offer.”

In spite of her limited English, Francesca understood the conversation. “Sessanta per cento.” Sixty percent.

Ross looked over at her. Her eyes were on him, anticipating his response. He answered in Italian, “Grazie. When would I start?”

“Oggi pomeriggio, se vuole.” This afternoon if you want.