As Delphi passed by the bar at Vino Rosso with a tray of appetizers on her shoulder, Isobel tried to catch her eye.

"Talk," she mouthed.

Delphi frowned and continued on her path. In a moment, she was back, empty tray in hand.

"You have to order something if you're going to sit here," Delphi said.

"I'll get a glass of wine. Have you ever heard of Terence Hoff?" Isobel asked.

"No. Who's he?"

"An acting teacher."

"Look in Backstage. All the acting teachers advertise in the back," Delphi said.

"I did. He's not there."

"I can't talk now, I'm working-"

"Bellissima!" A tall, handsome Italian man drew up to them. "Table four wants you." He put his face close to Delphi's. "They are not the only ones." Delphi raised a weary eyebrow at Isobel and walked off toward the tables.

"What can I get for you to drink, eh?" the man asked Isobel.

"What red wine do you have by the glass? Nothing too expensive."

"Complimentary! It will be my pleasure. Any friend of la bellissima is a friend of mine," he said with a wink.

He circled around behind the bar and poured her wine. This was obviously the maître d' Delphi had mentioned. He was definitely attractive, with wavy black hair and dark shining eyes, but Isobel had little patience for Latin machismo. She liked men with a little humility. She couldn't imagine this guy ever apologizing for anything.

"I must apologize," he said, setting a glass in front of her. "I wanted you to try our house specialty, a lovely Nero d'Avola, but we have run out."

Well, not for anything serious, anyway, she thought.

"This is perfect, thanks," she said, tasting the wine.

"It is our best Barbera," he said proudly.

"It's excellent." Isobel found it even smoother on the second sip. It was far superior to the wine she usually drank.

He moved in closer. "You know the secrets of la bellissima, maybe?"

So there was a price to pay for the free wine. "Perhaps I do," she said. "But I'm certainly not going to reveal them to anybody whose name I don't know."

"I am Carlo. Carlo Alessandrini, maître d' of Vino Rosso. Although I think to persuade the owner to change the name to La Bellissima, after your friend, the exquisite Delphinium."

Isobel laughed. "You won't get anywhere if you call her that."

"I do not understand. It is so beautiful and unusual. Like her."

"Yeah, well, she hates it."

"There is one thing I would like to know, and perhaps you can tell me, eh?"

"Depends," said Isobel.

"Does she have a ragazzo?" he said in a stage whisper. "A boyfriend?"

Before Isobel could answer, Sunil burst into the restaurant and spotted her at the bar.

"Sorry I'm late. That showcase company just called-I got the part in Two by Two!"

"That's fantastic!" She jumped off the stool and threw her arms around him.

Sunil looked around excitedly. "Where's Delphi? I can't wait to tell her!"

"I'm sure she'll be back in a moment." She turned to Carlo. "Oh, and in answer to your question? Yes." She cocked her head in Sunil's direction. Carlo's handsome Roman features flushed.

"I see," he said.

"Well?" She gazed expectantly at Carlo.

"Well...what?"

"Another glass of Barbera on the house? I believe you said that any friend of Delphi's was a friend of yours?"

Carlo glowered at her and returned a moment later with a second glass, barely half full.

"Hey, thanks!" Sunil said.

Carlo ignored him and strode away to the front door where he greeted a party of six with loud air kisses.

"Clearly you have the touch and I don't," Sunil said wryly.

"But you have it where it counts. You got the job. That's great!"

"Well, that remains to be seen. This company has a reputation. And it's a showcase, so there's no pay."

"I'll help you send out flyers to agents and casting directors if you want," said Isobel. "I can use the equipment at my office."

"That would be great!"

"My office," she mused. "That sounds so strange. But I suppose, for now, it's true."

"You'll get an acting job. Don't forget, I've been here for a year already."

"And this is your first gig?"

"Not exactly. I had a summer stock job last year." He smiled sheepishly. "Playing Ali Hakim in Oklahoma."

"Well, here's to the first of many fabulous singing roles," Isobel said, raising her glass.

"And here's hoping you survive your office job long enough to get one yourself!"

They clinked glasses and drank. Delphi joined them a moment later.

"Sunil has news," Isobel said, elbowing him.

"I got Noah in Two by Two."

"That's fantastic!" Delphi crowed.

"Thanks," he smiled, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sure you'll get something soon."

"I've been thinking about Shakespeare." Delphi turned to Isobel. "Something you said the other day about my having a good period look."

Isobel nodded enthusiastically. "You do! I'm hopelessly contemporary. But your curls, your features. When you lose the heavy silver and the nose ring, you have this amazing china doll look."

"Why do you think I got the nose ring?" said Delphi drily.

"I can totally see you doing Shakespeare," Isobel continued. "Helena, Olivia, Beatrice..."

"Lady Macbeth, Goneril..." added Sunil.

"Very funny." Delphi punched him playfully on the arm. "Anyway, I thought I might try a class. Just to see if it suits me."

"That reminds me." Isobel told them about Nikki, leaving out James's intrusion. She would fill Delphi in on that later. "So I want to find out if this emotional reality class is for real. Who wants to join me?"

"Sounds ridiculous," scoffed Sunil.

"I'm game," Delphi volunteered. "Besides, I don't want you going anywhere alone with anyone from that office. Even-no, especially-with that actress."

"It's Monday morning," Isobel said. "I guess I'll have to ask for time off."

"What if an audition comes along later in the week?" Sunil asked.

"I'll take my chances," Isobel said. "I need to find a good acting class, anyway."

"Doesn't sound like this is it," Delphi said doubtfully.

"No, it doesn't. But it will be an object lesson in what I don't want." Isobel raised her glass and downed the rest of her wine in a satisfied gulp.

* * *

Isobel was unpacking the last of her things into the apartment's one small closet when Delphi returned home after her shift later that night.

"I'm beat," Delphi said, flopping onto the futon. A puff of dust rose up. "I have to do something about that," she said, coughing.

Isobel lay down on her air mattress, which was tucked into the opposite corner. It was hard to reconcile the slumber party atmosphere of two faux beds in one room with her first adult living space, but as far as she could tell, this was the standard of habitation for recent college graduates who insisted on living in Manhattan.

She watched Delphi unload her wrists, piling up her silver bracelets neatly on the edge of her futon. "What do you think of Sunil?" Isobel asked.

"Hold it right there!" Delphi held up a link of silver skulls. "No matchmaking!"

"Don't tell me you're interested in that sleazy maître d'?"

"Carlo isn't sleazy, he's Italian. They're all romantics, and they all love blondes. Why?"

"Because I told him Sunil was your boyfriend."

"What?!"

"I didn't like the way Carlo was talking about you," Isobel said. "Very possessive and intrusive."

Delphi gave an exasperated sigh. "Italians are notoriously jealous! It's part of their charm."

"I know," Isobel said. "But if he's interested in you for something more than a quick hookup, now he has to fight for you. And if he isn't, he'll leave you alone."

"What if I want a quick hookup? What if I don't want to be left alone?"

"Do you?"

"Maybe! And if I were looking for some fun, I'd take it with Carlo. If you like Sunil so much, why don't you go after him yourself?" Delphi heaved herself up from the futon and stabbed a bright pink comb into her topknot. "Don't poke your nose too far into other people's business. If you pull that kind of stuff at your job, you're liable to get yourself killed!" She flounced off to the bathroom, her pink comb bobbing in disapproval.

Isobel's phone rang. She swallowed down a lump in her throat and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Iz? It's Percival. You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Liar."

She smiled ruefully. Percival, younger by seven years, had a level of emotional maturity that far surpassed hers. She could date her first awareness of it to one night when he was a tiny, bespectacled three year-old and they were both sick. She'd brought him some water in the middle of the night and made herself comfortable on the edge of his bed. Percival had stroked her hand and said, "You go back to sleep. You're sick, too." Not long after that, the indications of his uniqueness multiplied too quickly to count.

"Why do I always mess everything up?" Isobel said.

"What did you mess up?"

She was grateful to him for not adding "this time." Percival had a way of neutralizing her upsets, and just hearing his supportive, gently curious voice made Isobel realize how much she missed her little confidant and confessor.

"Why have I never learned to stop the big cup that is my mouth from running over?"

Percival laughed. "It's part of your charm, Iz."

He was the only one allowed to call her Iz. And she was the only one who didn't call him Percy.

She picked at a seam on the air mattress. "Maybe it's time to cultivate a new kind of charm."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're in a new situation, meeting new people. Your insecurities are bound to come out. Take that vulnerability and channel it into your acting. You can do it, I've seen you," Percival said.

"Thanks. I knew you'd make me feel better."

"Then you shouldn't have waited for me to call you," he chided.

"Right as always. How are you? How's school?" she asked.

"That's why I'm calling. I'm coming to New York next week for my Columbia interview."

"Wait a sec," Isobel sat up. "You're applying this year? I thought you'd decided not to graduate early."

"I changed my mind. There's nothing more for me here. I'm taking all my classes at the junior college, except Latin. My guidance counselor agrees."

"What do Mom and Dad think?"

"They think it's the right thing for me. So can I stay with you?"

Isobel looked around at the apartment, which felt a lot smaller now that it was crammed with furniture. "I have to ask my roommate, and I don't know what she'll say, especially since I just pissed her off. It's only one room."

"I could stay with Uncle Jake, but the cigar smoke might kill me."

"I'll ask her," Isobel said, as the bathroom door opened. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Love you, Iz. Hang in there."

"Love you, too," Isobel said.

"Who was that?" Delphi asked, rubbing her wet hair with a towel.

"Percival."

"Who the hell is Percival?"

"My brother."

"I didn't know you had a brother." Delphi shook out her curls. "What's 'I'll ask her'?"

"Maybe you shouldn't poke your nose into other people's business," Isobel said.

"Am I 'her'?" Delphi asked. Isobel nodded. "Then it is my business."

"He's coming to look at Columbia for next year, and he asked if he could stay here."

Delphi pulled a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt over her head. "Depends. Is he cute?"

"He's fifteen."

"And he's applying to Columbia?!"

"He's a genius. Math, physics, computers. And people," she added.

"Do you have a picture?"

Isobel pulled a photo from her wallet. She and Percival were standing by the shore of Lake Michigan, their arms draped around each other, grinning at the camera.

"Oh my God, it's Harry Potter!" Delphi exclaimed.

"With the wisdom of Albus Dumbledore."

Delphi handed the photo back. "I don't know, though, it's pretty tight in here. Where would he sleep?"

"I could go back to the residence for a few nights," Isobel said.

"And leave me alone with Harry?"

"Or you could spend the night with Carlo," Isobel suggested.

"Or Sunil," Delphi said.

Isobel took that as an olive branch. "Sorry. I was just looking out for you. No more meddling, I promise."

"It's okay. I overreacted. But just so you know, I'm perfectly capable of handling the menfolk all by myself."

Isobel nodded gratefully. "Got it. So what about Percival? Can he stay here?"

"Is he anything like you?"

"Nothing at all."

Delphi smiled and patted her damp hair. "In that case, he's more than welcome."