Page 86 of Dante

Chelsea leads me down the stairs. At the bottom, the tunnels are silent.

“Why are these connected to the Academy?”

“During Prohibition, bootleg liquor was stored down here, hidden away from federal agents.”

The irony isn’t lost on me.

This is where it all could have started. Where Dante’s family built their empire.

“Biscotti,” I call. “Biscotti!”

Chelsea joins me in calling, and after a few minutes I hear the skittering of tiny paws. Then my puppy comes trotting toward me.

“Biscotti!” I scoop him up.

“Come on, you two,” Chelsea says. “I’ll escort you out of the Academy. I need to make sure you both get where you’re supposed to be going.”

After a short walk back to where Thomas parked, I thank Chelsea and wave goodbye.

Once we’re back in the limousine, I ask Thomas to drive me to my brand new office at the restaurant.

As soon as the car pulls into traffic, my phone rings. It’s Dante. My heart leaps as I answer.

“How was the school?” he asks.

“Fabulous. I’m so excited, Dante. I’ve seen the work of the other students. They’re very talented. I’m lucky to be here.”

“Drawing nude men?” Dante’s tone is calm, but sharper than usual.

“What?”

After all the excitement with Biscotti, it takes me a moment to figure out what he might be referring to.

“Oh. That. My guide Chelsea took me to a classroom where students were sketching a nude model. But how did you know that?”

“I have my ways,” he says.

A long silence follows. Was Dante spying on me? Was he following me? Did he hire someone else to report on my activities?

In the end, I figure he just made a logical guess. The Academy is an art school after all.

“Where are you headed now?” he asks, changing the subject.

“The office.”

“Good,” he says, his voice sounding more normal. “I’ll stop by later this afternoon. Until then.”

He’s disconnected before I can say goodbye. But no matter. It’s nearly noon, and I have a load of resumes to discuss with Lorenzo.

CHAPTER 32

DANTE

Idisconnect from Gina, leaning back in my chair and allowing myself a small smile as I put down the phone.

Never in my life did I think I’d have an art student for a wife.

Listening to her prattle on about meeting with the professor and her new friend, Chelsea, makes me feel like I have a daughter instead of a wife.