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Yes! I knew there must be a way I could earn my keep around here while staying occupied. “I’ll do anything.”
“We sold our old family home a few months back and a lot of my mom’s old papers, pictures, and books are still in boxes. Lorenzo and I were going to sort through it all, but we never seem to have the time. Could you take a look and try to find everything a new home in our library? The entire place is a bit of a mess to be honest, and you’ll probably have to reconfigure the whole room to fit everything in, but there should be enough space.”
“It would be my pleasure. That sounds like exactly the kind of project I’d be good at.” Organization, books, and photographs are three of my favorite things. “And I’m so impressed you guys have a library here. I feel like I just dropped into Beast’s castle.” I laugh softly.
“Well, the only beast you’ll find in our library is Lorenzo.” Dante chuckles. “He usually works in there instead of in our study.”
Kat gives me a conspiratorial grin. “Here’s a pro tip—if he gets super grumpy, he can be calmed down with a huge slice of caramel cheesecake.”
Dante rolls his eyes. “He and Kat have a particular thing for one of the bakeries downtown that I will never understand.”
I nod my agreement and flash him a knowing smirk. Oh, I’m well aware of my cousin’s cheesecake habit.
“Only because you don’t like sweet things.” Kat nudges him in the ribs, and he slides his hand down to her ass.
“I likesomesweet things, kitten.”
She blushes beet-red again and I turn away, talking to Micah and peppering his downy head with kisses because his parents look like they’re about to need the room to themselves. Kat’s voice has me turning my attention back to her. “Anyway, help yourself to the books in there. I added my own special section,” she adds with a pop of one eyebrow.
I waggle my eyebrows back. “Oh?”
“You enjoy reading porn too, Mia?” Dante asks with a wicked grin.
I cover Micah’s ear with my hand, mouth wide open as I feign my horror at his father’s denigration of mine and his mom’s reading material.
“It’s smut,” Kat insists.
“We’ve been reading cliterature since we were fourteen and we first discovered Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty series,” I say in defense of the finest genre of books to ever be created.
“Cliterature.” He snorts a laugh and Kat gives him another dig in the ribs.
We’re saved from the rest of the conversation by Max walking into the room. He greets Kat and me then he looks to Dante. “You ready, compagno?”
Dante sighs. “I hate the Strauss brothers.”
“I know. But if we send Lorenzo…”
Dante finishes his sentence. “We’ll be cleaning up bits of brain from the casino carpet for weeks.”
I press my lips together and squeeze Micah a little tighter to my chest.Bits of brain?Surely Lorenzo isn’t that crazy? Right?
* * *
A familiar pianotune carries down the hallway as I approach the library, growing louder the closer I get. The song is being played so beautifully and hauntingly that it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It’s only when I’m standing outside the room that I realize it isn’t a recording. Someone is actually playing the piano.
Lorenzo? I press my forehead against the door and listen to the soft melody grow louder and more insistent the longer he plays. Tears stream down my face as the pain in the notes, played so perfectly, washes over me.
A sob catches in my throat, and I can’t resist opening the door. Engrossed in the tune, he doesn’t hear me come in. His fingers glide effortlessly over the keys. Such talent. Where did he learn to play so beautifully? I watch him, transfixed, feeling like a voyeur by intruding on this private moment, but I’m unable to turn away. His head is bent low so I can’t see his face, but I feel the anguish in his every keystroke.
I wipe a tear from my cheek and the movement must alert him to my presence because he stops playing and turns to me.
I walk over to him, wringing my hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you, but Dante asked me to sort through your mom’s books and things. And then I heard you playing, and it was so beautiful and—”
“It’s fine,” he grunts, waving a dismissive hand and closing the lid of the piano.
“You play beautifully.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead he glares at me so fiercely that I feel like I might burst into flames.
