Chapter 4 #2
“your first assignment is at the Casa di Goethe.”
Aida was pleased with this revelation. She had always intended to visit the museum dedicated to the celebrated German author.
“I’ll be guiding you through the process. Before you spend time in the museum, you should research and read up on Goethe,
particularly his time in Italy.” She paused and looked at Aida, her big blue eyes wide. “Have you read his Italian Journey?”
“Yes, but it was a long while ago.”
“You’ll have a week to research what you can about Goethe and his life. Read Italian Journey again. Brush up a little on the rest of his works but don’t dive deep. You’re mostly looking to understand everything you
can about his time in Italy. Every last detail, anything you can uncover. You will work fast, but you will be thorough.”
“What am I searching for?”
Trista gave Aida a look that suggested she might be daft. “I literally just told you,” she said with all seriousness.
Aida raised an eyebrow. “You told me what I would be doing but not what I would be looking for. Am I trying to understand a particular correlation between different sets of information? Am I trying to uncover some sort of new fact about his time here? Or perhaps an untruth in what we think we know about him? What you described is fairly unnecessary—his life has been well cataloged. That’s why a museum is dedicated to him, after all. ”
Trista stared at her, expression empty, and finally, Aida broke eye contact, uncomfortable with the gaze.
“I see,” Trista said after a long pause. “Lady Ozie is interested in Goethe’s emotional impact upon the world and the qualities
that made him compelling. In particular, how he sparked joy in others as a result of the time he spent here and the way in
which he wrote about it.”
If Trista had shown an iota of emotion, Aida might have made a Marie Kondo joke about sparking joy, but she sensed that the
woman wouldn’t understand the humor. She still wasn’t sure what Lady Ozie really wanted. To understand joy? It sounded so
strange coming from Trista, who looked like she had never experienced joy in her life.
Chef Ilario interrupted them with a cheerful “Tea is served.” He crossed the room with a massive tray.
“Excellent, thank you, Chef.”
“These look delightful,” Aida told him.
“You both look as though a little delight is needed. Siete troppo serie.”
Too serious indeed, Aida thought. She was tempted to ask him to stay and have tea with them, but Trista dismissed him with a wave of the hand.
Chef Ilario winked at Aida and departed.
Aida could hardly believe the elegant afternoon tea setup before her. A sterling silver teapot gleamed among fine bone china
cups. An array of scones, their surfaces dusted with a golden crumb, were nestled beside pots of clotted cream and strawberry
preserves. Neatly cut cucumber and salmon sandwiches lay in precise rows with fillings peeking out from their crustless borders.
Petits fours, iced and tempting, added a splash of color. It was a tableau of comfort and civility that Aida found herself
warming to, the kind of ritual that could easily become a cherished part of her afternoons.
Trista, however, was not one to linger over teatime delights.
She was all business, briskly outlining the plan.
“You will have a week to settle in here and get accustomed to living in Rome. Take the time to do your research on Goethe and reread Italian Journey. Next week you’ll be given full access to the museum and its staff. ”
“And why not employ the museum’s Goethe experts for this task?” Aida questioned.
A smirk flashed across Trista’s face. “Because then you’d be out of a job.”
“Fair enough. But it’s an honest question. What could I uncover that these individuals wouldn’t already know?”
Trista powered down her tablet. “Let me be clearer. In all your projects for MODA, you’ll focus on cataloging happiness, a
perspective other historians have overlooked. You’ll understand as you immerse yourself in the work.”
“Cataloging happiness?” Aida was bewildered yet intrigued.
“Yes. Lady Ozie is keenly interested in how certain people, objects, and places have brought the world happiness, levity,
glee, euphoria, joy.”
“Will I ever meet her?”
“She’s never visited. Don’t expect that to change.”
“But you’ve worked here nearly eight years and she’s never come? Isn’t that odd?”
Trista shrugged. “I don’t ask questions. I’m well compensated; that’s what counts.”
Aida found this unsettling. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“Curiosity killed the cat, did it not?”
That sounded like a warning.
Trista took a sip of her tea and then stood.
“Feel free to explore and familiarize yourself with the palazzo. I’ll set up meetings with you if needed, but of course, I’m always at your disposal.
Once you log on to your laptop, you’ll find information from me in your email, and you’ll see that your calendar is already populated with various meetings in the next few weeks.
I’m here to help you manage all that. If you need anything done, simply ask, and I’ll take care of it. Your job is to focus on the research.”
Trista departed through the door to her office and Aida was left alone in the vast library. She polished off a couple more
of Chef Ilario’s delicious treats, then took a cup of tea to the window to stare at the garden while pondering her new assistant’s
strangeness. Finally, she turned to her desk, sitting in the elegant and ergonomic chair. She wondered how much it cost, then
realized that if she questioned that about everything she encountered in this house, she wouldn’t have room for any other
thoughts.
It occurred to Aida she hadn’t let Yumi know she had arrived. She’d called Graham as soon as she landed, but she should let
her best friend know she was in one piece. Plus, Yumi would undoubtedly have something witty to say about the place’s weirdness.
Aida pulled her phone out of her pocket to dash off a quick message, but cursed when she saw there was no signal.
She set her phone aside, turned to the MODA laptop and phone, and followed the steps to connect to the Wi-Fi and set up fingerprint
and facial recognition. Aida looked at her own phone again. She could understand not connecting to the Wi-Fi, but it was strange
not to even have a cell signal. She attempted to reset it by turning it off and on, but that proved to be useless. Trista
hadn’t been kidding about being unable to use her own devices. There must be some sort of jammer in the palazzo that prevented
her from connecting. Clearly, MODA had no intention of letting her communicate with her own technology.
Irritated, she used the MODA phone to text Yumi.
Hey Bestie. Sending from my new work phone. Made it to Rome in one piece. The palazzo is breathtaking and the job sounds amazing,
if strange. I hope you aren’t having any more 404 issues. I’ll check in with you later to find out.
Aida hit Send. When she and Yumi were in college, they established 404 as a code to signal that their conversations weren’t private.
It began as a joke to cover up talking about people that she and Yumi didn’t like, relating the http error code to the idea that the conversation had crashed because someone might overhear.
She trusted Yumi would understand that her communications were being monitored, given all the emphasis that had been placed on secrecy and NDAs.
Aida would find a way to call her from her personal phone tomorrow if she could.
Yumi must have been looking at her phone because the response was nearly instant.
Gotcha. I can manage the 404, just glad you are there and ok.
Aida spent a little time familiarizing herself with the MODA setup on her new laptop and phone, but it wasn’t long before
fatigue overtook her, despite the infusion of caffeine from the tea. Somehow, she managed to find her way back to her room.
Dante had set out her luggage on racks next to the walk-in closet, but she passed them by and collapsed on the plush velvet
couch that looked out toward the courtyard.
She fell asleep, caught between disbelief that this palace was her new home and the unsettled feeling that all her communication
would be monitored. She didn’t have anything to hide.
But MODA clearly did.