CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
‘ S UUU - ZEEE ...’
Somehow Dante made her name sound sexy.
She’d known it was him before she’d even looked over, and her broken umbrella had felt easier to control than the flurry of butterflies escaping in her chest.
She gave him her best version of brisk as her umbrella snapped up into an imperfect shape. ‘We meet again,’ she said.
‘And not by chance.’
Oh, he was actually here to see her!
‘I would like to apologise.’
‘Apologise?’ Susie checked, so stunned to see him waiting for her that she forgot to be shy. ‘You mean for being rude earlier?’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, and she thought he almost smiled.
She’d heard of people taking your breath away, but he took more than that, and for a second she wasn’t capable of words, or even of walking off. She was choosing to prolong the encounter, only she did not know what to say.
He solved that with a question. ‘How’s the “cut” on your hand?’
‘Much better.’ She held up her unblemished palm, the plaster gone. ‘I heal quickly.’
‘You do.’ He nodded.
It was the oddest moment of her life. He was looking at her, and the conversation was pleasant, yet she actually recalled that moment where he’d touched her hand, and how his touch had made her heart seem to flutter in her throat.
It felt the same now.
He couldn’t have noticed, of course, for she just stood there, a little stunned at her own thoughts, as Dante spoke on.
‘I overreacted. Sev had called me and I was expecting...’ He gave a helpless shrug. ‘I don’t even know what I was expecting.’
‘I get it.’ She nodded. ‘It’s nice that you came to check on him.’
‘Always,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay for the weekend and try and sort a few things out for him. It’s kind of you to have helped. Also, we need to discuss money.’
‘We don’t.’ Susie flushed.
‘You’re English,’ he said. ‘So I know discussing money is painful for you.’
She laughed, just a little bit, but it was enough that she relaxed a little and could look him in the eye. ‘Seriously, there’s no need.’
Her lips pressed closed. She did not want to reveal the arrangement she had with Mimi.
‘You’re clearly doing more than just dropping off meals.’
‘I’m not.’
‘So you get the morning coffee ready for all your clients. Fill the sink? Move furniture?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But I really don’t do much.’ She gave a small shake of her head. ‘I don’t think Gio would appreciate this conversation.’
‘Perhaps not, but I would appreciate knowing what is going on.’ He relented a little. ‘I want to help him, too.’
‘I know...’ She hesitated, not wanting to break her new friend’s confidence. ‘Look, I just do a little here and there...not much at all. I think...’ She looked at his pale face, his dark eyes, and for a second all thought stopped.
‘You think...?’ he persisted.
‘That I should go,’ Susie said. ‘It’s late...’
Somehow he made her want to be indiscreet. And not just with Gio’s secrets. He took the cold air away; he made the night somehow shiny.
‘It was a long shift,’ she added.
‘Of course.’ He nodded. ‘Where do you live?’
She pointed in the direction of her apartment.
‘I’ll say goodnight, then. Again, I am sorry for earlier.’
He gave her a nod and walked off, and Susie stood there, a little unsure what to do. Her apartment might be where she’d pointed, but her favourite ice-cream shop was in the direction Dante was headed!
And after a very long shift she wasn’t missing her treat.
She gave him a small head start and then followed him along the pathway, hoping he wouldn’t notice...
Dante didn’t notice her at first.
It wasn’t her clumpy shoes that had him turning around. More that he turned to catch another glimpse of the woman, Susie, who been the sole reason he’d smiled a few times today.
And then he saw her—a few steps behind him.
He frowned, and got back to walking, but he could hear her footsteps now, so he turned again.
‘I’m not following you,’ she told him. ‘I like to get an ice cream at the end of my shift.’ She’d caught up with him now. ‘I think about it all night.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’
‘What flavour?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ Susie told him as they took the steps down from the walls. ‘I’m trying to work my way through the list, but I adore the red velvet.’
‘Then get the red velvet, surely?’
‘I want to try new things. My ice-cream-at-night habit only began when I started working at Pearla’s.’
‘When was that?’
‘I’ve been there a month now. I started a week after I arrived.’
She told him she was here studying the language.
‘And I’m off to Florence soon, to do a cookery course, but I have to be fluent to do that... I’m going for total immersion.’ She looked over to him then. ‘I ought to be speaking to you in Italian.’
‘Lieto di accontentarla,’ he said, but then he saw her slight frown and translated. ‘Happy to oblige.’
‘Thank you, but please, no...’ She drooped. ‘It’s nearly midnight and my brain’s a bit fried.’ She peered over at him. ‘I’m sorry, too.’
‘For what?’
‘I was mean.’
‘When?’
‘When I said about Gio being your grandfather...’
‘He is my grandfather—and you were right to stick up for yourself. That’s not being mean.’
‘It felt mean.’
‘Not in my world,’ he said, but she wasn’t listening.
He saw her eyes actually light up—clearly the ice cream had come into view. Her chosen venue was popular, because even this late there were people lining up in the street.
‘Do you want one?’ she offered.
Dante was about to decline, and tell her he wasn’t a fan of ice cream, but he’d already been rude enough.
‘Let me get these.’
‘No, no...’
‘It’s an ice cream, Susie,’ he pointed out. ‘What flavour?’
‘Oh, God!’ She looked at the board, as anxious as if he’d demanded the answer to some impossible mathematical equation. ‘Pistachio,’ she said. ‘Actually, no... Espresso...’ She shook her head.
‘Red velvet?’ he checked, and she gave a resigned nod.
‘I’m so predictable,’ she sighed as he ordered. ‘What are you getting?’
‘Amareno,’ Dante said. ‘Sour cherry.’
Soon they stood with their chosen ice creams. He could see her eyes on his.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Well, I’m that way...’ She gestured with her head. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Buona notte.’
Oh, my...
Her brain certainly wasn’t too fried to appreciate being wished goodnight in silky Italian by someone so delicious.
Susie walked off with her treat and a whole barrage of new sensations, and wished Gio had warned her how devastatingly handsome his youngest grandson was...
‘Susie?’
She was barely two steps into her journey home when he halted her.
‘Can I ask one question?’
She turned around and stood a short distance apart from him. He was beautiful in the rain. ‘You can ask...although whether or not I’ll answer...’
‘How did you move the furniture?’
She let out a small laugh and then beneath her umbrella, ice-cream cone in hand, she flexed her arm. ‘I’m deceptively strong.’
He nodded, but instead of leaving it was Susie who now prolonged things. ‘I also have a question.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘You said I should have called you. How?’
‘You pick up your phone.’ He shrugged and stared back at her for what felt like a full moment.
A moment during which her toes curled in her clumpy shoes and she gripped her umbrella as if it were a pole that might secure her against walking towards him.
‘But I didn’t know who you were...where you worked, or...’
‘It would have taken two minutes to find out.’
‘Please...’ she retorted, disbelieving him. ‘Goodnight, Dante.’
This time she walked away, but he’d conjured up so many questions that he’d made her giddy.
Her ice cream was especially delicious, even if it wasn’t sour cherry, and it was completely devoured by the time she pushed in the code for the vast door of her apartment block.
She collapsed her umbrella and left it in the stand, then climbed the many steps and opened up her door, catching sight of her reflection in the large hall mirror as she did so.
Her face was flushed and her eyes were glittery and she looked as if she’d been very thoroughly kissed. In fact, she was breathing as if she had been, and she couldn’t quite blame the stairs!
Her flatmates were either asleep or out, so Susie took herself to her bedroom and flopped down on her bed.
Bewildered.
More than that, fascinated.
She started scrolling through her phone.
Yes, it took less than two minutes for her to find him, but even so... As if this suave, accomplished attorney would have called some lowly waitress back. As if her message would even have been passed on.
Feeling curious, and oddly liberated, she dialled the number of his law firm.
‘Hello...’ She spoke into a machine. ‘My name’s Susie Bilton. I’d like to speak to Dante Casadio.’ She swallowed as she said what she might have said had she considered calling him about Gio. ‘It’s a personal matter.’
She rang off and spent the next few moments looking at images on her phone. Staring at the many, many beauties who had accompanied this man on many, many glamorous nights out.
As if he’d even get her message!
Dante quickly relieved himself of his ice cream at the request of a beggar.
‘Please,’ Dante said, handing it to him. ‘Enjoy.’
He was soon at his residence, at the top of Corso Garibaldi.
Usually he would have alerted his part-time housekeeper that he was coming home. Perhaps that was the reason for the unlived-in air as he stepped into his immaculate home. His case was still in the entrance hall, where he’d dropped it off before heading straight to Gio’s. There were no lights on...no drinks or food left out...
Not home.
This had been an empty shell when he’d bought it. Rather like himself. Over the years it had been restored to its original glory, yet it brought him no joy, no peace. If anything, the more beautiful it got, the more it reminded him of how hollow he felt. And now it served just as a reminder of the silent commitment he had made to keep a residence here as long as Gio lived.
After that...
Dante was far from na?ve, and he knew Gio was getting on. Of course he worried about him. But there’d always been Mimi...
He knew Mimi was not just the housekeeper, but had gone along with Gio. He always gave notice before he went over, and never commented on the many little things he noticed.
But now clearly his grandfather was unhappy, and Dante knew he had to address it.
How?
He went to the sink and washed his hands, sticky from the ice cream. His intention to garner more information had proved futile. While he admired Susie’s discretion, it irked him that she’d told him nothing.
If he saw her tomorrow then he would speak to her again.
Directly this time.
He’d ask what she knew about the situation, and not get waylaid with language schools, cooking courses in Florence or ice-cream flavours...
Dante rarely got waylaid.
Susie had called herself predictable.
Oh, no.
Susie was far from that.