Free Northern Moonlight by Anisa Claire West

spend even major holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas with his uncle and aunt, so the invitation to a surprise birthday party seemed out of place.  Why should he celebrate the anniversary of that miserable man’s entrance into this world?  Stefano was a heartless old fool.   He had even been so selfish as to hold onto pictures of Marcello and Laura all these years, no matter how many times Gio had requested copies.  How Gio would be grateful to see those beautiful faces again, as every family album, of course, had turned to cinders in the fire. 
     
Then, Gio had to admit to himself that he was obligated to tell Stefano about the information Bert Shanty had provided.  After all, they were still family, despite the coolness and infrequency of their interaction.  No matter that Stefano’s birthday party might not be the opportune time.  Gio frankly didn’t care.  It would be easier to deal with Stefano at a social function with a group of people rather than one-on-one.  He would invite Sabrina to the party and they could make an early departure to cut over to Manhattan and enjoy a night in the city.  Gio resolved to call Helena later in the day and accept her invitation with the provision that he would be allowed to bring a guest. 
     
Gio continued to stand in the torrential rain, letting it soak through the invitation until the black ink bled and smeared. 
     
*****
     
Sabrina hurriedly poured dry food into Softy’s bowl, ignoring the pieces that dropped to the floor.  The morning had been too rainy and overcast for Sabrina to take her tripod to Lake Champlain for a sunrise shot, so she had slept in.  Now she was scurrying around in an effort not to miss her one o’clock appointment with Darlene.  Sabrina only met with her supervisor about twice a month, and when she did, it was usually to discuss a travel opportunity.  So Sabrina dressed accordingly, in one of the few business suits she possessed, and carried her portfolio loaded with photographs from her successful five year career. 
     
“Bye, Softy!” She hollered.  “Let’s hope she sends me someplace sunny!”
     
Sabrina perched expectantly on the rim of her swerving chair in Darlene’s office as the woman spread out samples of her work on the desk.  Darlene was a willowy, attractive woman in her late thirties.  Her dirty blond hair was generally a riot of untamed ringlets that she wore around her oval face.  She was notorious in the office for wearing a pair of magenta framed spectacles that seemed more for style than vision correction.  Indeed, the woman’s appearance was as artistic as her position at the magazine.
     
Sabrina was fond of Darlene, who had replaced a male art director named Fred, detested in the office for his lecherous behavior towards all the female staff.  In the days of Fred’s reign, Sabrina’s assignments had been limited to local shoots at stunning, but familiar, places like Mad River Valley in central Vermont.  The only way to get a more exotic project would have been to compromise her principles.  When Darlene came on board, Sabrina had been ecstatic and quickly soared to top photographer status. 
     
“Your pictures are always impressive, Sabrina, I must say.  And so diversified.  You seem to take as eloquent a shot of a city monument as you do of a rose garden.  Very impressive, indeed.” Darlene marveled, smoothing her hand over a photograph Sabrina had taken at the Tuileries during her trip to Paris.
     
Sabrina was elated by the praise for her work.  “Thank you, Darlene.”
     
“You are very deserving of that praise.” Darlene assured.  “Now, let’s talk about why I set up this meeting for this afternoon.  We have some upcoming assignments that you may be interested in.  I have a short-term one that you would need to leave for this week and a long-term one that starts in July.”  Sabrina beamed at Darlene, eager to hear what these assignments would entail.
     
“The first