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“Well, Just Pablo,” my brother drawled. “Elvis had a last name. Presley. God help you if you don’t know that.” He tsked and raked a hand through his brown hair.
Izzy leaned into her boyfriend, setting a palm to his chest, and lightly patted. “He’s teasing. Don’t worry.”
“But I’m not actually,” Alessandro said, using his flat tone of voice again, not laying on any of his typical charm.
I looked up to see Constantine on approach, and the grim look on my brother’s face meant he knew I didn’t have the cleaner’s name yet. “We need to talk. Alone.” Constantine’s gaze flicked to Pablo, and he looked away as if the man were but a shadow there and nothing to worry about. Hell, not even a hello. He angled his head down the hall where he’d come from, a request to follow.
“I’m sorry they’re being so rude,” Izzy apologized. “But that’s Enzo. The comedian with the questions is Alessandro.” She let go of Pablo to block my path to try and stop me from following Constantine’s request to leave. “My eldest brother with clearly no manners is Constantine.”
“Nice to meet you all?” Pablo said it like a question.
“I guess if Mom isn’t running here to see him, she’s already met Pablo-not-Picasso?” I asked. “And she didn’t tell us for obvious reasons.”
Pablo frowned. “He knows I can hear him, right?”
“Yeah, you still have both your ears.” Alessandro chuckled.
“That was Van Gogh,” Izzy said with frustration. “I swear, you two.”
But come on, she had to know we wouldn’t like the guy, and how could we?
“I guess I’ll take you to the pool house.” Izzy scowled at me, then rolled her eyes at Alessandro before snatching Pablo’s hand.
Pablo grabbed his bag, and the two of them went down the other hall, avoiding Constantine.
“I don’t like him,” Alessandro said once the three of us were alone. “Pretty sure Constantine will kill him before night falls.”
“That’s being generous,” Constantine rasped before turning away.
Before I had a chance to follow him, Mom called out my name, and I pivoted to see her approaching. “Maria seems nervous. Maybe you should go talk to her?” She came before me and opened her palms. “I was hoping Izzy and Maria would cook dinner with me tonight. I’d ask you, but you need a break, I’m sure.”
I wouldn’t mind cooking. It was an outlet, my way to destress. Using my hands for something that brought pleasure instead of pain.
But tonight wouldn’t be the night, not with why I was there.
I looked at Alessandro and Constantine waiting for me and then back toward the hall where my old room was, and why did it feel like I was being asked to make a choice right now? Justice or love?
NINETEEN
Maria
“Stuffy will be back soon. He’s just on vacation. Like Mommy is,” I said over FaceTime to Chiara, trying not to cry at the sight of my daughter on the small screen. I missed her so damn much.
Ten minutes after Thomas had met up with my parents at the halfway point between Charlotte and their small town of Waxhaw, they realized Stuffy had been left in the back seat of Thomas’s car. They’d called him, but the jerk had refused to turn around. He’d said he had a plane to catch and didn’t have time.
“That’s okay, baby girl. Nanna’s got some fun toys for you,” I went on, hoping to calm Chiara down as my mom held her inside her living room. “I love you so, so much.” I blew her an air kiss, which had her smiling, thank God, and she blew one back to me.
“Hon, can you take her while I have a word with our daughter?” my mom asked my dad, and he popped his head into view to wave, then took Chiara from her. No lecture from him, but I knew one was coming from Mom. “I just don’t understand what you’re doing at the Costas’ in New York.” Mom cut straight to it.
“I needed a vacation,” I said on a sigh.
I peered at the massive yacht with the Costa name scrolled on it, which sat regally in the water, as Mom said, “You didn’t even tell me you were getting on a plane. The fact I had to hear from Enzo’s mother that you’re at their house just screams something is wrong.”
At her words, I started to pace. Enzo’s mother must’ve redecorated his old bedroom, since it looked more like a guest room staged for a furniture store. A sailing theme to go with the bay.
“I assume Thomas doesn’t know you’re there? I’m surprised he didn’t grill us with questions when we picked up Chiara.”
“Yeah, well, Thomas can kiss my ass,” I snapped just as there was a knock at the door. Shit. “I have to go. Talk later.” I chucked the phone on the bed as the door opened.
