The next morning, I woke before my alarm.For a split second, I couldn't remember why.Then it all came back.Florence.Architecture.The project.Matteo...And the strange sense of calm that settled over me whenever I thought of Rafael.I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.It was only six o'clock.A normal person would have gone back to sleep.Not me.Whenever I was nervous, or excited, sleep became impossible.After ten minutes of tossing and turning, I gave up.An hour later, I was sitting in the Boboli Gardens.They were almost empty.That was exactly why I was beginning to love this place.The city was only just waking up.The morning air was cool against my skin, and the sun hadn't yet warmed the stone paths. A peaceful silence lingered over the gardens—the kind of silence I rarely managed to find back home.I settled onto a bench, pulled out my sketchbook, and opened the page with our hotel design.Something still wasn't right.I knew it.I just couldn't figure out
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