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“One last time.”
“Not if I’m alive, amore. Stop struggling. I don’t wanna drop you.”
She was still trying to escape me when we were interrupted right after I stepped into the kitchen by a cranky, but amused voice.
“Seems like you are having a good morning.”
“Shit!” I stepped behind the closest wall, almost banging Salvatrice’s head on it. How was this happening again? “Miss Aida, I keep forgetting about you.”
“Oh, clearly. Go put clothes on.”
I took Salva back to the bedroom and let her down on the floor. Her face was the same color as ripe summer tomatoes.
“Sorry, amore, I keep forgetting she’s delivering my breakfast.”
“Oh, my God!” she hissed, punching me in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you paraded me naked in front of her.”
“Just for a second. She’s older, I bet her eyes are not so good.”
“Aida is a terrible gossip. She’s going to call all her friends and tell them she saw me here with you.”
I crossed my arms at my chest and looked down at her, pinning her in place with my gaze.
“I’m ok with that.”
“Ugh, Roman, I swear to God, you can be so stubborn sometimes.”
“You’re not hiding me away, Salva. Let’s get dressed and go downstairs. Do you want me to find some clothes for you?”
“I have my own, thank you very much.”
She was pissed, but I was fine with it. I knew Salva’s moods better than she did and these little outbursts passed as fast as they came.
When we got back to the ground floor, Aida was setting the breakfast table out on the terrace, this time for two people. I went to her first while Salva walked behind me with her head down.
“Good morning, miss Aida. I’m sorry you had to see me nude. Twice.”
She shook her head in my direction.
“I’m not complaining, young man. You’re not bad to look at. What I didn’t expect today was to see two butts instead of one.” Aida tilted her head to look past me. “Good morning, Salvatrice. It’s so nice to see you today. How’s that sweet daughter of yours?”
Salva let out a breath and finally stepped into the light.
“She’s good. Francesca is watching her.”
Aida puffed very all-knowingly.
“More like the kids are watching her.” She shrugged when Salva gave her a hard, admonishing look. “What? I like the girl– she reminds me of my granddaughter – but she loves the wine too much. Say whatever you want, Salvatrice, but she never got over her husband’s death.”
“Francesca is coping just fine, Aida, don’t worry about her. She’s also a very responsible mother.”
I felt the urge to get into this conversation. I don’t know what, maybe a fatherly instinct that I never thought I had, was pushing me to go and run a background check on this Francesca woman.
“Salva,” I cleared my throat. “Is Romina being watched by an alcoholic?”
“She’s not an alcoholic, she just likes to chill with a glass of wine once in a while. Jesus.”
“How many times a day?”
