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I handed the wand to Savastino, and he took care of securing it with the rest of the instruments.
“I’ve had enough. Take care of the body and meet me upstairs.”
Gaetano, Casey, and I headed upstairs to the office where we found Henry sharing a coffee with Judge Vestor.
Chapter Eight
NIKITA
Mario drove the car up to an enormous set of wrought iron gates that were embellished with a grey enamel kangaroo on one side and a koala on the other. He hit a remote, the gates swung inwards, and he drove past magnificent gardens to a white-painted mansion that was straight out of the deep south.
Four thick columns were evenly spaced across the front and a pair of wooden doors were flanked by two windows on each side. The upper level had three sets of French doors that opened onto a wide balcony. My father's home was modern with extensive angles and glass that took advantage of the harbour views, but Lucia's home was classical elegance.
Stepping through the front door into an elaborate entry foyer gave me a view of the white marble staircase sweeping upwards in a half circle. An enormous chandelier hung from the double-height ceiling, but it was the sight between where I stood and the staircase that brought a smile to my face.
A round polished wood table held a vase that was around ninety centimetres in height and almost the same in diameter. The arrangement was spectacular with flowers small to large and in every colour of the rainbow. As I followed Lucia past to the left of the table, various perfumes reached my nose. I would need to speak with Benvolio about cheering his staid home with flowers.
Mario followed us with the bags containing our purchases and he held the wedding gown and veil, secured in a suit bag, over one arm.
Lucia showed me to a room that was decorated in sunshine yellow and white. A pair of French doors were pinned open allowing the scent of salt water and sounds of the harbour to filter into the room. It was a 'happy' room and more to my taste with the simplistic and minimalist style of decorating.
Mario set the shopping bags on the bed and handed Lucia my gown when she held out her hand. When I noticed my handbag on a bedside table, Lucia explained she had asked one of her men to bring it from Benvolio's house. I removed my phone and charger, needing to check for messages. I had several acquaintances from university who I spoke with every day but no one I considered a true friend. I was a loner, preferring my own company.
"I'll hang these in the robe and give you some time to yourself." Lucia started for one of the white-painted doors and hung the suit bag inside before leaving.
I thanked her before dropping onto the bed and opening the messages on my phone. There were several from my father pleading with me to let him know I was okay. I’d contact him when it suited me, not him.
The next message I opened was from someone called Marilyn Porter. She said she was from the Mosman Key Grammar School where I'd applied for a teaching position. She wanted to meet with me to discuss a teaching appointment.
I pumped the air with my fist, excited that it looked like my application had been accepted and I hadn't even received my final grades. According to the message, I was being offered an interview and if successful, would be asked to teach a class of Year 4 students.
I messaged her back saying I would be happy to meet with her on Monday at 9 am. Marilyn asked if I was sure as she had heard I was to marry on Saturday. After reassuring her it was fine, Marilyn said she would send a car and I gave her Benvolio's address.
Excited by the prospect of my first job, I skipped down the steps calling Lucia's name. She hurried from a room off the hallway, a concerned expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Lucia set her hands on my shoulders.
"There was a message from a grammar school I applied to saying I have been accepted for an interview on Monday morning. Marilyn, the lady who contacted me, is sending a car to take me to our appointment. She said if I was successful, I'd be teaching a Year 4 class."
“Oh, Darling, that’s wonderful.” Lucia’s words said she was happy for me but there was concern in her eyes.
“Something wrong, Lucia?”
“I’m worried Benvolio will prevent you from attending the meeting. How about you tell him you are spending the day with me, and I will send Mario to fetch you? Ask Marilyn to send the car here.”
“That’s a good idea.” I quieted for a moment. “What if Benvolio stops me from accepting the position?”
"I'll speak with Enzo once you have had your meeting and the position is confirmed. I shall ask him to speak with Benvolio about allowing you to work. Our son will respect his father's word."
“What if Enzo thinks I shouldn’t work?”
“Trust me. Enzo respects what I say. Or he does if he wants to continue sleeping in our bed.”
We both laughed and hugged before I headed back upstairs to advise I was to be picked up from Lucia and Enzo’s home.
***
The final days of summer were warm and clear blue skies hosted only a few wisps of cloud that threatened no rain.
