“Four members of the household staff,” Julian says. “All under Mel’s direction. As you know, Miguel is the ranch foreman. He has seven full time men to manage. That number increases in the spring and summer. For the estate, Sonny is in charge of six permanent members of the security team and more than a dozen associates who come and go as necessary and provide backup for our assets elsewhere.”
“And you really trust them all?” I ask, carving out some gelato with my spoon.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I turn my head to find an expression I haven’t seen on him before. It’s too uncertain to be anger.
“Occasionally we find out we’ve misjudged someone,” says Fort as he intently watches his oldest brother. “Then we’ve got no choice but to let him go.”
“Effective immediately,” Getty chimes in with a grin that’s inexplicably sunny.
I get the feeling I’m being left out of an important aspect of the conversation. I’m not sure I want to know what that aspect is.
“Hey, Cecilia.” Tye pokes my forearm with a thick elbow.
When he’s got my attention, he places his dessert spoon over his left eye. His right eye squints. “I can hardly see you with just my bad eye. Test me.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” The answer is zero.
“Four,” he guesses.
“Close, but not quite.”
“Huh. Maybe if you give me something really cool to look at my condition will be cured.”
“What do you consider ‘really cool’?”
“Bet your tits would work,” he says without missing a beat. “Go ahead. It’s for science. I swear no one else will look.”
“Not true,” Fort declares. “I’ll look.”
“Shut up, junior,” Tye says.
“And to think my breasts might have cured you,” I say.
Tye pouts. “Is that a no?”
“That’s a very definitive no,” I say to Tye and bring a spoonful of gelato up to my mouth.
Enzo is a food genius. The smooth texture is perfect and the flavor is impeccable.
Tye lowers the spoon from his face. He laughs and smacks his knee.
Getty has been quieter than usual, only piping up a couple of times with smartass comments. At the moment he’s steadily shoveling gelato into his mouth. The second he’s finished, he pushes his bowl away.
“I think we can let some rules slide while Dad is gone,” he says.
“Whatruleswould you like to break, Gaetano?” Julian asks.
Getty leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest as he thoughtfully considers the ceiling. “I’d be in a better mood if I had some entertainment.”
Julian sighs. “Is it really impossible for you to get through dinner without checking your phone?”
“It’s not my phone I’m dying to get back to. It’s my book.”
“Yourwhat?”
“My book.”
“Since when do you read for fun?”
