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Gio had just stood there, white-faced, and said, ‘I’m so sorry.’
Her mother and father had been so proud of Mario. Everything, all of their hopes and fears, had rested on him. Valentina had resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn’t have the same opportunities. She was genuinely happy for her brother to succeed and he’d often told her, ‘Val, when I become a lawyer and I’m making lots of money, I’ll send you to a cordon bleu school in France….’
Tears pricked her eyes, but just then a knock came on Valentina’s apartment door, wrenching her back to the present. Surprised, because she wasn’t used to visitors, she dashed away the dampness on her cheeks and stood up. When she opened the door and saw who it was she sucked in a breath. ‘You.’
CHAPTER THREE
GIO LOOKED GRIM in the dim light of the corridor. ‘Yes, it’s me.’
Still too shocked to make much sense of this she just said, ‘How did you get up here?’ The front door was at ground level and there were five apartments in the ancient crumbling building which was on one of Palermo’s less salubrious streets.
‘Someone was coming in just as I arrived.’
‘How did you know where I lived?’
Gio’s mouth tightened. ‘I asked around.’
Valentina could just bet he had—and who wouldn’t give a Corretti the information they wanted? Seeing him here like this in the flesh when she’d just been feeling so vulnerable made Valentina prickly.
‘What do you want, Gio?’ She saw the flash in his eyes and realised she’d just called him Gio. Flutters erupted in her belly.
‘I’d like to come in for a minute if that’s OK?’
‘No, it’s not OK.’
Valentina started to close the door but was surprised when she felt the resistance of Gio’s hand. Suddenly he looked quite intimidating.
‘We can conduct this conversation here in the doorway and give your neighbours something to listen to or you can invite me in.’
Valentina heard the tell-tale creak of her neighbour’s door just then and very reluctantly let Gio come in. He went and stood in the middle of the small living area, which had the kitchen area just off it and a tiny bedroom and bathroom on the other side. Palatial it was not, especially when she thought about his castello.
She smiled with saccharine sweetness. ‘Well, I don’t think you’re here for tips on how to live in a small space.’
A corner of his mouth turned up and the flutters in Valentina’s belly intensified. Damn him.
‘No. That’s not why I’m here.’ He turned to face her then and she noticed that he’d changed out of his polo shirt and jeans, into a white shirt and chinos. His overlong hair curled over his collar, a lock falling near his eyes.
‘I’m here because you ran out today after saying you didn’t need me to help you. But clearly you were prepared to ask for help up until that point. You wouldn’t have driven across the island for nothing.’
Valentina cursed herself again for having gone to him at all. She lifted her chin. ‘It was a bad idea. Everything is fine.’
Gio crossed his arms. ‘I know my aunt Carmela—I’d imagine that everything is not fine at all.’
Valentina’s belly lurched. Things weren’t fine. They were awful. But she wouldn’t ask Gio for help. She couldn’t. There was too much history between them. Along with all sorts of dangerous undercurrents she didn’t want to look at. So, a small voice asked her now, so why did you go to him today?
Firmly Valentina opened her door again and stood aside. She looked at Gio but avoided his eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have gone to you today. I’d like you to leave now.’
Gio looked at the woman standing so stiffly by the door and wanted to shake her. She’d come today for something. Exasperated now he said, ‘Look, Valentina, you know you can talk to me. You can tell me whatever it is, if you need something.’
She looked at him then and for the first time he noticed that she was pale and she looked tired, shadows under her eyes. Worry on her face.
‘No, you look. Pretend you never saw me today. Now for the second time, I’d like you to leave. You shouldn’t have come all the way here.’
‘Valentina, for crying out loud—’ Gio broke off when a shrill ring pierced the tense atmosphere. He looked down and could see a mobile vibrating on the small coffee table. Automatically he bent to pick it up and saw that it said, Home. His gut clenched. Valentina’s parents. He handed it to her, saying, ‘It’s your—’
But she cut him off. ‘I know who it is.’
She took the phone and turned her back to him saying, ‘Mama?’
