Page 57

“You worked for where you’re at. I doubt anyone thinks of you that way. What happened to Rob’s assistant?” I ask.

His lips part, and he glances away. A zap runs down my spine because I know that look. “Just quit.”

I lean back, keeping my eyes on him. “You had something with her.”

“Fuck… does it matter?” he snaps. “I’m not asking you about your entire sexual history.” I grimace at him. He doesn’t mean it, and I stay silent as I wait for him to backtrack. We’re in a stare-down, but he folds first as I predicted. “That was rude.”

“I know you’re having a hard time regulating,” I cautiously add.

He clears his throat, making his Adam’s apple shift. “To say the least. Whatever. My head’s fucking pounding.” He stands. “Oh, and take my truck. The second garage door button is programmed to the gates at the vineyard.”

I pale. I’ve never driven anything bigger than my mom’s mid-size SUV. “Are you sure?”

Enzo nods. “If you can handle me, you can handle my truck.”

“Oh, God,” I groan, but Enzo only lightly chuckles.

Finally getting back to himself.

A while later, Enzo walks me out to the truck and hands me his keys. “If you need it, this one unlocks my office,” he says, pinching a key that looks like the rest between his fingers.

“I’m sure I won’t.” I hope that at least because I already forgot which key he pointed out.

Enzo walks around and opens the passenger door. He leans in and points to a button under the air conditioning controls. “When you’re coming back, press this twice. It’ll make braking downhill easier.” My eyes shift.

This is a lot to remember.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

“You can do this. Just remember your back end is wider.”

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

“The back tires, Bee.”

“Right, right,” I breathe out.

The truck rumbles to life, and he waves me off. Surprisingly, I don’t need to adjust the seat, but I tweak the side-view mirrors. My hand reaches for the center console where my car’s shifter is, but I come up empty-handed.

Oh, right.

The shifter is by the steering wheel. Pressing the brake, the truck shifts under me as I put the transmission into drive. I let off the brake and let the truck roll forward out of the driveway. Thankfully, he backed the truck in last time he drove it, so I don’t have to worry about trying to maneuver this thing in reverse. My goal is to not use that gear, if possible. Fortunately, after turning out of Enzo’s neighborhood, it’s a straight shot to the vineyard.

I haven’t left Enzo’s house since Saturday.

That was when I took his absurd number of pill bottles to Dad’s house. I couldn’t risk leaving them in my car on Enzo’s property; he could have been lulled into continuing the habit. I know I’ll need to go to Dad’s house either today or tomorrow to check up things and get more of my prescription to get me through the weekend, but I’m not taking Enzo’s truck any further than I need to.

Unsurprisingly, Enzo has slept through most of the five days. Saturday was weird. I could tell he didn’t want to face me after the blow-up, but I stayed close anyway. The exhaustion and hunger kicked in Sunday, hitting him like a ton of bricks and knocking him on his ass.

But he deserved it.

The long stretches of sleep continued into Monday and Tuesday. I went for runs, never straying too far from his house, played games on my computer, and watched TV. Anything to make the time pass while he slept off the worst of it.

Still, every time I heard him rustling upstairs, I braced. I’m not qualified to deal with a volatile person going through detoxification, but I don’t have any contacts to help. Enzo’s too proud to check himself into rehab, which he probably needs most.

Oh, shit! That’s Rob’s house and the vineyard.

I nearly miss the turn but make it just in time to meet the gates to Tenuta Valenti. Thankfully, this road doesn’t have a lot of traffic during the middle of the day. The gates are closed, and I glance up at the built-in garage door opener buttons by the sunglass holder. He said one of these opened them. I press the first one.