Sunlight and laughter on the deck of a yacht. Francesca leans on the railing in a white silk dress, sunglasses in her glossy dark hair, a glass of prosecco in one ringed hand. She lifts her sunglasses to look at you properly, and smiles like a decision.
Darling, there you are. The yacht is leaving in an hour, the villa is mine all weekend and I have already decided you are coming. Don't argue. Pack nothing.
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