22. Trouble
TWENTY-TWO
TROUBLE
Alessio
The next morning, before I went downstairs, I checked on Lake and found her asleep with a paperback novel spread on her chest, her hand still holding the pages apart. I assume she enjoyed the book since she read it as long as she could before sleep took her.
My phone rings in my office, and since I just got out of a meeting that couldn’t have been an email, I ignore it.
It keeps ringing.
Leo cuts the French toast on his plate. Normally, I work at this hour, but Leo’s governess slept in, and they usually eat breakfast together. Leo thrives on routine. In that way, he’s like me.
The housekeeper’s phone rings, and I drop my fork. Now I’ve got a pretty good idea who’s calling me and Rosalba.
“Let it ring, Rosalba,” I tell my housekeeper.
Leo blinks up at me with his mother’s eyes. They plead without pleading, and I bend like a bloody noodle. “Fine, let her talk to him.”
Rosalba practically pounces on us and delivers her phone. Leo picks up the line with a big smile on his face, and I hear Valerina’s voice on the other end. I scoop my eggs while she and Leo chat.
Soft steps enter the kitchen, and I smell Lake’s gardenia lotion, which tells me she went back to the guest house to shower and dress.
“Buongiorno. Com'è andato il tuo weekend?” Lake asks, her accented Italian taking me by surprise. I turn in my seat at the same time as my housekeeper, who is as fond of people as I am, smiles and answers Lake with a shocking amount of detail. Are they friends?
Lake and Rosalba talk, and once Lake gets coffee with her breakfast plate, she sits beside Leo, who’s still on the phone with my sister.
“Good morning, Leo.” She smiles, and he beams up at her.
“My aunt says hi,” he answers.
“Tell her hi back and tell her that I miss her.”
“She misses you too,” he says, then makes kissing noises.
“Hi,” my governess greets me.
Ah, finally, I’m acknowledged. Could’ve spent my youth sitting here before she noticed me and gave me a simple Hi . Peeved, I rear back. “Why don’t I get the Italian version of good morning?”
She gulps down half her cup of coffee. “Because you speak English.”
I glance at my housekeeper, who speaks English just fine, and she hightails out of the room. I don’t give her away. “You’re late,” I say.
Lake winces at my accusatory tone. “I forgot to set the alarm. Sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“How did you sleep?” I ask because I don’t care about her being tardy. I’m bitter that she greeted me last. She should’ve greeted me first. Maybe she should have come over and kissed my cheek or something.
She groans. “Poorly. I read an entire fantasy romance.” She eats a bite and hums at the taste of Rosalba’s breakfast toast. “I loved him.”
“Who?”
“The heroic villain.”
“Why?” Although she’s tired, with puffy eyes, I find her pretty. I also want to throw her on my bed and make her rest.
“The hero is the king of all the Unseelie fae, which are the cunning, brutal ones,” she explains. “His magic is so powerful that he’s called the Army of One. But this power is very destructive, hard to control, and it’s forced him into seclusion. The way he deals with his power is that he allows a little bit of madness to bleed into his everyday life. For example, he speaks through the objects in his house.”
I ponder this. “You’re saying you love a mad beast who can summon an army?”
“Maybe.” She blushes.
“I’m trying not to draw parallels,” I say, aware that my nephew has hung up with Valerina and is now tuned into our conversation. Leo listens attentively and learns quickly. My little sponge. He makes me proud. Speaks four languages and can find every country on the planet if you gave him a blank map. An Angelini intelligence to be sure. That’s not from his father’s side.
Which is why I must know who fathered Val’s kids. One sister was a fool in love. I can’t have another marrying a fool too.
“Hey, Lake,” Leo says when he realizes we’re done talking. “Did you sleep in the spare bedroom last night?”
“Yes, I did.”
I can’t help myself. “Last night, your governess tried to walk over broken glass.”
Leo gasps. “Why would you do that?”
I intercept. “She’s very naughty is why.”
Leo shakes his head. “Bad girl.”
Lake’s face is flushed so red, I think she might overheat.
My phone rings again, and Rosalba drops it off on the breakfast table. It’s the hotel’s number, so I answer.
“Mr. Angelini, it’s Antonio from the bar. I returned from my vacation and Brunella told me you asked for me.”
“Good morning, Antonio, I was just…” I pause when Lake freezes and then drops her fork. She tucks her hands under the table and looks up with fear in her eyes. Before I can decide if I’ll continue the conversation or ask about her well-being, she excuses herself from the table.
Lake tries to bolt past me, but I snatch her wrist and tug her back.
“Finish your meal,” I say. “I’ll take the call in my office.”
She’s terrified. I think her hands might be shaking, and that’s why she’s not picking up her fork. What in the world?
In my office, I sit behind my desk and keep my door open so I can watch Leo and Lake. She picked up the fork, but she’s picking at her food instead of eating it, every so often lifting her head toward me. She should’ve sat in my place so she could chat with Leo, but she seems to be watching me.
If she’s not on her knees watching me for cues on when I’ll come in her mouth so she can decide if she’ll spit or swallow, there’s no reason for her to watch me this attentively.
“Mr. Angelini?” Antonio says, still on the line.
“I’m here, Antonio. Do you remember that woman I shared an evening with?”
“I remember her, yes.”
“Did you take her home?”
“I did.”
“Where was she staying?”
“Luigi’s”
Correct. “And did you see her enter her room?”
“Yes, sir. I waited until she went inside.”
Hm. “She claims she got mugged that night.”
“Not on my watch, sir.”
“Did you touch her?”
A pause, then: “How do you mean, sir?”
“Anyhow whatsoever. Did. You. Touch her?”
“No, sir. You asked that I escort her home, and I waited for her, then I took her home.”
“Did you shake her hand? That’s touching her.”
“Sir, the woman was yours. I did not touch her.”
I push. “Maybe you thought she was pretty and couldn’t help yourself?”
“No, no, I swear I didn’t.”
He sounds sincere, but once she heard his name, she froze and looked terrified. The urge to call him over so I can rip him to pieces comes over me. “Are there two of you on staff now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come to the house. Let’s talk in person.”