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“Hurry, please.” Alberto waited at the threshold, wiping a handkerchief over his sweaty forehead. “I ran here as fast as I could.”
I never left my room without brushing my teeth or washing my face in the morning, but hygiene was the last thing on my mind as I followed Alberto. He broke into a brisk walk slash jog. I did the same as we crossed the west wing towards the foyer. “Berto, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“You’ll know soon enough,” he wheezed. “And may God help us both. Your mother might kill me for allowing this to cross the entrance gates and you for potentially accepting this gift.”
“Gift?” The second I pushed through the front doors, a cold breeze nipped my bare legs.
Then I saw thegiftAlberto was talking about.
A dark green Lamborghini sat in our driveway with a huge red bow on the hood.
“Is that…” I stumbled down the porch steps until I stood a foot away from the luxury sports car.
“It’s for you,” Alberto said with a hint of apprehension. “It came fifteen minutes ago. I wanted to let you know before your mother got back from the country club in case you decide to send it back. We all know how she feels about colourful cars.”
I grabbed the note attached to the windshield, already knowing who it was from. My heart raced like I just finished a marathon as I read it.
Darla,
TellDiane to go fuck herself (politely, because you’re agood girl) and that she should really get a hairtransplant.
The car is yours to keep. She’s nota corvette because I refuse to drive American, but atleast now we match.
I hope you like it.
Zeno
“What are you going to do, Miss Darla?”
For some reason, Zeno felt the need to buy me a car after hearing my sob story last night. This act of kindness could be chalked to him wanting to keep me amenable during our marriage or simply him trying to show me that he could be a decent human being.
Whatever his reasoning, I didn’t care. I was already in love with my new Lamborghini. “I’m going to keep her.”
“But your mother—”
“Can go fuck herself.” I traced my finger over the door handle, giddy with excitement.
Alberto gasped.
Zeno was already rubbing off on me and we weren’t even married yet.
“I’ll deal with her, Berto. Don’t worry. I just can’t return this car, okay?” I gave him a miserable expression. “I really want it.”
Alberto handed me the keys with a serious nod. “Very well. I shall take your side if she tries to return it.”
“That’s the spirit.” My car door opened with a butterfly effect. I gave Alberto a mischievous smile. “Have you already had breakfast, Berto? Want to join me for a ride?”
Alberto’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas and he gave me that soft, wobbly smile I loved. “I have not eaten yet. Will you take me toLe Petit Moulin?”
I reeled him into a hug, pressing a big kiss to his forehead. “Of course I will! Now let’s go get dressed before Diane comes home.”
“I have a new red tie that I’ve been meaning to wear for a while.” Alberto looped his arm around mine and dragged me inside the house with my favourite old man cackle. “Let’s go. I’m so hungry, I can eat a horse.”
This was shaping out to be one of the best mornings ever.
The Lamborghini drove like a dream. I sped 180 km/h on our way out of the gated community with Alberto shrieking boyishly. We went toLePetit Moulinand ate our weights in banoffee pie and drank cappuccinos until we had a food coma.
Mother still wasn’t home when I parked in the driveway. Dacia pulled in with her black Audi at the same time, most likely having finished a tennis game with her colleagues.
