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The morning sun peeked through curtains of blue-and-green brocade, and Franco awoke in the big, soft bed, in sheets of ivory silk with intricate blue-and-green needlework. The canopy was of matching silk, and the headboard was embroidered with the Moravio family crest. Franco wasn’t a baron, but he was living like one.
Franco tossed the covers aside and jumped out of bed. He picked up the dressing gown, put it on, and ripped off the pocket with the Moravio crest. “Signora Esposito!” he called out, since her room was down the hall.
Signora Esposito entered after a moment. “What happened to your dressing gown?”
“I improved it.” Franco looked her up and down, her frame tiny in the black uniform of the Moravios’ staff. “Do you like your new uniform?”
“Yes. Are we playing dress-up?”
Franco shot her a look. “How’s your room?”
“I heard you snoring.”
“Lucky you.”
“I need staff.”
“Youarestaff.”
“No, Imanagestaff. I’m a household manager. I need a housekeeper,a cook, and a butler. Also, a valet to help you dress. Baron DiGiulio had two.”
“I don’t like men to see me naked. Maybe he did.”
“There’s no need for that.” Signora Esposito wagged an arthritic finger. “I won’t have you speak ill of my former boss, even though he’s a bastard, a cheat, a liar, a snob, and an arrogant pig who passed gas without apology.”
Franco laughed. “Anyway, no more staff. I don’t want people around. Now, at the end of the week, I’m having an important meeting. I need you to put out a big dinner in the dining room with the best of everything.”
“How do you propose I do that?” Signora Esposito folded her arms. “I don’t know where to get fine provisions out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Franco chuckled. “Can you do it or not?”
“I can, but it’ll cost you.”
“Fine. Also, I need something else, something special.”
“Get your own prostitutes. I’m through with that. Your nose will fall off. You’ll go blind. Mark my words.”
Franco rolled his eyes. “I need you to get me pictures of Saint Rosalia.”
Signora Esposito blinked. “You’re a man of faith?”
“Not exactly. I believe in God, but He doesn’t believe in me.”
“He believes in all men, even naughty ones.”
“Not this naughty.”
“Anyway, where am I to get such pictures?”
“There’s a church in the village nearby. Start there. Or send to Palermo. Every church has pictures of her. Figure it out.”
Signora Esposito frowned. “This is an errand for a functionary, not a household manager.”
“Can you do it?”
“It’ll cost you.”
Franco snorted. “Can I get coffee and breakfast? Or is that extra?”
