Chapter 8 Leticia
LETICIA
NO GARGOYLES
The driver is cautious on the driveway, maybe too cautious given it looks well plowed and maintained, but it’s not like I drive a car, so how would I know?
The house is massive with big stone work and a high roofline.
But it doesn’t look as uninviting as I expected it to be.
I tried to look it up on the navigation website, which shows you what the street and surrounding area look like, but you couldn’t see the house from the road.
Suspiciously, the guard shack and guards were edited out of existence. Or, maybe they’re new?
The driver opens my door for me, and I step out into the cold, briskly walking over to the door.
Antonella opens it before I can even knock.
I squeal with delight, throwing my arms around her. Antonella hugs me back, squeezing tightly and demurely. But I’m quick to remember myself and take a small step back to appear polished. Valor must be lurking around here somewhere.
“I can’t believe you live here,” I whisper to her as I look around the house while I unzip my jacket.
The flooring is a mix of wood and carpet with rugs. The furnishings are a curated collection of traditional and more modern pieces. It’s so different from the Romanesque style Dad and Mom decorate with. It’s warm and welcoming, like you could actually touch the furniture and not get in trouble.
When Antonella takes my jacket and hangs it on the hook, I point back out the way I came. “I’m pretty sure there are gargoyles on the roof.”
Antonella stifles a laugh and whispers with me. “No gargoyles, but there is a tortoise.”
“On the roof?” I unzip my boots. That’s a weird house ornament.
“Solarium.” Antonella sighs and shakes her head.
She hooks my arm with hers, leading me deeper into the house. I get the distinct feeling of being watched and can only assume it’s Valor behind us. I don’t turn to look, afraid of seeing nothing. Like the feelings I get back home.
But Antonella does glance back over her shoulder and questions, “Okay, will you tell me how you planned this?”
I chance a look back and find the dark-eyed, dark-haired ‘inquisitor’ of the Irish Mob staring back at me. The Valor Cavanagh. Antonella’s new husband is there behind us.
“That was all me.” I giggle, trying to hide my fear.
I draw a deep breath and pretend to be excited to tell the story and not scared out of my mind.
“You see, it wasn’t enough texting you every day, so I called up the Clark Enterprise office and pretended to be a vendor, started reading a bunch of technical jargon off the internet.
” I lie, trying to sound more intelligent than grabbing a random toaster manual.
“And asked for answers or the person who would be in charge of this sort of top-secret project.”
Antonella’s head is pulled back in shock, and she’s giving me the look that she gives Berto when she’s finally getting the answers she’s asked for. It’s stunned but equally curious.
I talk faster, trying to finish the story. “The receptionist, after like, thirty minutes, transferred me to Royal, who was surprisingly nice and informal, and with a little flirting, I got him to have Valor call me back.”
“Ha.” Valor laughs, breaking some of the tension.
It’s not even a full laugh, but instantly I feel more at ease.
I attempt to add some sass, putting my hand on my hip and giving him a look up and down. “What of that wasn’t true? Because your receptionist, Margret, is very nice and, I say, deserves a raise if she regularly puts up with that bullshit.”
“No, it’s just that Royal was positive you weren’t flirting with him,” Valor explains while stooping in front of a wine fridge. He takes out a bottle of wine, offering the label out to Antonella.
She shakes her head and opens the fridge before pulling out three beers.
Oh, thank god, not another stuffy meal with wine pairings and small talk. I gesture to the bottles of beer with hopes I can have mine right away. If anything, to settle the remainder of my nerves. “You’re going to make it so hard to go home if you spoil me like this.”
“Beer goes better with the pork I’m making,” Antonella explains to Valor and hands him a beer first.
He opens it without protest and then offers me the bottle.
“Thank you.” I remember my manners, but the first sip doesn’t dull my nerves quite fast enough.
I take more time to admire the large, but not entirely spacious, kitchen and the attached living area with views toward what must be outside seating and a patio. The walls are white but not stark. It feels like a home without being lived in.
I smile at Valor before directing myself back toward Antonella.
“This is nice. A lot brighter than I was expecting, not that I would know because you’re like the single-word answer queen.
” Tears threaten to breach my eyeballs, but I fight the urge.
With a steadying breath, I relax a little more.
I’ve always been vulnerable with Antonella, even if I can’t help it.
I lean into humor but express my real fears.
“I’m not lying when Valor told me he had no problem with me coming to dinner tonight.
I thought he was full of shit, and you’d be gone or something. Maybe chained up in the basement.”
“I should have made it clearer that you were supposed to talk with your cousin.” Valor’s still smiling, but there’s a crease in his brow. He looks between the two of us and takes a small step back, like we intimidate him. “Should I maybe give you two some space?”
“No,” Antonella and I answer at the same time.
Hers is a bit snappier than mine. But I don’t want to be accused of secret telling or for Antonella to be accused of hiding something from him. Is she worried about the same thing?
“Well.” Valor nods slowly. “Leticia, you’re welcome here anytime.” He turns his attention to Antonella.
I swear to God, the way this man looks at her like she’s becoming the love of his life melts my soul. How can an arranged marriage lead to a love like that? It’s something I don’t think will happen for me, but a tiny little butterfly of hope finds my heart.
“And, Antonella, anytime you’d like to see Leticia” —Valor gestures between the two of us— “you two can meet up in public if you’d prefer. I don’t trust Gregorio or Berto and don’t want you at their home without me, but I have no problem with you two speaking and getting together.”
He’s absolutely, one-hundred-percent correct that Dad and Berto can’t be trusted. Valor doesn’t need to know the bad things they’ve said about him. I don’t know how this truce works, but if saying bad things about the other party violates it . . .
I hold the beer up, slightly blocking my mouth, and speak through clenched teeth with a cautionary melody. “It’s so weird.”
Antonella looks at me, cocking an eyebrow.
I keep my voice low while keeping my eyes trained on Valor. “He’s almost normal. Toni, are you sure he’s a Cavanagh? Did you look at his driver’s license? Did you marry the wrong rich guy?”
Valor softly huffs, but Antonella answers with an eye roll. “Oh, I’m pretty sure he’s the right rich guy.” Her voice turns almost wistful as she finishes. “The Irish do things differently.”
“Clearly,” I accidentally mumble and cut off the rest of my thought—because Dad would totally have Valor in the basement of the building, in the torture room they don’t think I know about.
“Daaaad!” a little girl calls from somewhere deeper in the house.
“Yes, Kerrianne?” Valor echoes back.
“Can I wear pants?” she shouts down the stairs.
“I told her one time that she had to wear a dress when company came over, and now we go through this every time she meets someone new,” Valor explains, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before letting go. He answers back at a louder volume. “Yeah, pup. Pants are fine.”
“Pup?” I squint. What sort of nickname is that?
Valor’s face pales, not a lot but enough to let me know that I’m right to question it.
“Term of endearment. Kerrianne is kinda unique.” Antonella is quick to explain but then tries to redirect. “You’ll like her.”
“Nope.” I shake my head, looking between the two of them.
“Bullshit meter is off the charts.” I point to Valor.
“He stiffened.” And I look Antonella over.
I’ve known her forever, and it’s obvious she’s hiding something.
Something is wrong. Something is different.
I draw a steadying breath and pressure her.
“You’re about as subtle as a freight train.
You’re not actually offering an explanation. I wanna know.”
The two of them share a series of looks. Something literally flashes in Valor’s eyes. They almost turn a whole new color for a moment.
A gasp escapes my lips. What the fuck did I see? What is going on? Is he on drugs? What’s in this beer?
The fight-or-flight part of my brain is currently flicking back and forth, unable to settle on a response. What should I do? Calling Berto is absolutely out of the question. He only makes things worse.
I feel hot all over and fluff my hair, trying to cool myself. Keep it together. You’re not in immediate danger. They’re all the way in the city. It takes an hour to get here.
“Leticia,” Antonella calls, and I take my eyes off Valor for a second to watch her, hoping for an explanation. “Not tonight. But we will tell you later. When have I ever lied to you?”
Never. The answer is never, and she knows I know that’s the case, but this is suspicious.
I narrow my gaze on Valor and pull out the scary voice that I always want to use with Mom.
“I don’t like this. I saw your eyes do something.
If you’re getting her messed up or on some shit, I’ll be really pissed.
I may have absolutely no skills to take you down myself, but don’t think I can’t come up with something. ”