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“And that someone is you.” He says it completely flat, and I can’t pick up any clues from his facial expression. Totally neutral.
“That someone is me,” I agree.
After a moment, he nods. “Let’s go eat,” is all he says.
* * *
Roxanne Rochford is in the kitchen when we arrive down there, eating a salad at the counter and flicking angrily through afashion magazine.
“You!” she says when she sees me. She slides off her stool, backing around the kitchen island as though to keep it between us, but stabs her fork at me accusingly. “I want my phone!”
“I don’t have your phone. Where’s Chef?”
“Then who has it?”
“Instead of worrying about your phone, perhaps you should worry about your brother-in-law-to-be?” I suggest.
Her eyes flick to Leo, but he holds up a hand. “I’m fine,” he says heavily, though he touches the back of his head with a wince.
“He’s fine,” Roxanne snaps. “I want my phone back.”
“You want to tell me why you need this phone?”
“Iwantto tell you to go fuck yourself,” she says, her voice rising. “And I want my phone so I can make sure Gino’s not worried aboutme.”
“I don’t know where your phone is,” I tell her. “But even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you. If anyone tracks you here, it will complicate matters.”
I ignore her angry glare and head to the main fridge to see what’s in there. Chef usually leaves me some ready-made meals when he’s not on-site, and there are numerous single-serve casserole dishes with reheating instructions on them.
“Lamb cassoulet,” I read out to Leo. “Wild mushroom risotto. Paella. Beef bourguignon. Pork tenderloin with rosemary and garlic.” I glance over at him. “Anything sound good?”
“All of them,” he says.
“Fine,” I say, and pull them all out. He doesn’t stop me, so I start heating them all up, according to the instructions.
“Rox,” Leo grunts, “you want some? Or you gonna stick to that rabbit food?”
She sits back cautiously on her stool and resumes eating. “I don’t know how you can eat all that,” she says, when I start serving up the dishes to Leo.
“If they wanted to poison me, they woulda done it already,” Leo points out.
“That’s not what I meant,” she mutters, watching as Leo shovels food into his mouth. I sit opposite him at the counter and watch, smiling, as proud as if I’d cooked the food myself.
Roxy keeps a close eye on me, and halfway through Leo’s gastronomic journey, she waves her fork between the two of us. “What’s going on here?”
“Hm?” I turn to her, having almost forgotten she was here at all. “Leo was hungry. I’m feeding him.”
“Yeah. What’sgoing onbetween you two?” She frowns suspiciously, but then her face gradually morphs into astonishment. “Oh, fuck. Leo, please tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” he says with his mouth full.
“Hitthat.” She stabs her fork at me again. If she’s not careful, I’ll have to take it from her.
As Leo coughs on his pork tenderloin, I tip my head to one side and I look her up and down. “You’re a guest in this house, Roxanne Rochford. Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to insult your host.”
She lays her fork down primly, but I can see her hand tremble a little. “I’m a guest of Don Castellani’s,” she corrects me. “Andhesays I’m under his protection.”
I sigh. “I suppose that’s true.”
