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She stares at me for a moment, then says thoughtfully, “You really can’t touch me, can you? If your Don says I’m protected.”
“His word is law—for those who are sworn to him.”
I’m not sure what’s going on in that clever little head of hers, but Leo has just drunk down half a gallon of water to clear his throat, and judging by his stiff shoulders, he’s wary of this woman.
Roxanne Rochford is still staring at me, so I go around the counter, drape myself over Leo, grab his wrist, and divert his next forkful into my mouth instead. “Mm,” I sigh. “Pork. My favorite.”
“Oh, my God,” she mutters, getting up from the counter again.
Leo shrugs me off. “Sit down, Rox,” he says. It’s not a shout, not even loud, but it’s most definitely a command. She sits her ass back down with a thump. “Julian,” he says, “getmyphone. We’re gonna call Gino together.”
I think about saying no. Would Sandro prefer to be present? Probably. But something tells me Leo would prefer himnotto be, and that might cause problems. Much easier just to let Leo have his way, and I can listen in and tell Sandro everything he needs to know.
So I do as he asks, and a few minutes later the two of them are sitting side by side at the counter, Roxy pushing lamb cassoulet aside with a wrinkled nose, Leo’s phone calling on speaker. Gino answers with a loud “Yo!” and his fiancée dives in with a tearful diatribe about how sorry and scared she is before Leo can speak.
“Rox?” Gino hollers. He’s somewhere loud. A casino floor, I think, judging by the jackpot noise that goes off a moment later. “Is that you? I tried to get hold of you, where—“
“Gino,” Leo says firmly. “It’s me. I’m with Roxy. There’s shit going down you need to know. You somewhere private?”
There’s a brief silence. “Gimme a sec.”
Leo pulls a decorative dish towel off the nearby railing and hands it to Roxy so she can blow her nose. He won’t look at her, or me, and takes a few more mouthfuls of food while we wait for Gino to get somewhere quieter.
“Okay,” he says at last, sounding worried. “What’s up?”
Leo lays it out for him, while Roxy blubbers away. He has to pause a few times for Gino to curse and shout, but on the whole, Leo’s explanation is brief, well-structured, and emotion-free.
Oh, he’sgood.
“I can’t believe Dad isdoingthis to me,” Gino sniffles at last, sounding as teary as his fiancée.
“He’s doing it to Roxanne Rochford, technically,” I offer.
“Who the fuck is that?” Gino snaps.
Leo motions at me to pipe down, and I watch that little mole over one of his eyebrows disappear as they squinch hard together.
“It’s Julian Castellani,” Leo admits, and then we have to wait another minute as Gino screams at me. “You done?” Leo asks, when he runs out of steam. “Then shut your mouth, open your fucking ears, and listen to the plan.”
The plan—for now—is simple. Gino must act as if Roxy has gone missing, while we keep her safe at Redwood. It’s not ideal, but it’s a way to buy time until we can figure out a more permanent solution. Happily, Roxanne Rochford is between roles at the moment, and has told her agent she’s taking some time out for a meditation retreat.
Gino doesn’t like the plan much, but he agrees there’s no other choice right now.
Leo slides the phone over to Roxy, and motions me to the other side of the kitchen. “Come on, let’s give ’em some privacy. We can wash up.”
“Wash up?” I ask blankly.
“The plates and shit,” he says, picking up two of the now-empty meal containers. I stare at him, and then at the bowls in his hand. “You telling me you never washed up before?”
“I’ve never washed up before. Why—why would I?” I give a confused smile. “Leo, we have people to do that. Not to mention a dishwasher.”
“Come on,” he says, ignoring me and walking to the other end of the huge kitchen, where the sink is situated. “Maybe you woulda been less of an asshole if you’d washed up a few times in your life.”
“Oh, I’d still be an asshole,” I tell him serenely, but I follow. “You seem to know where everything is,” I marvel. I’ve never even looked under the sink, and yet Leo went under there with confidence, emerging with a sponge, a brush, and a squeezy bottle. I watch with interest as he fills the sink with soapy water and scrubs away at the dishes.
“Just get over here and help,” he says, throwing a dish towel at my face. “And keep your mouth shut while you do it.”
Roxy has hidden herself away in the little break room, so we’re not interrupted by her sobbing as we work. I watch Leo, and he stares out the window at the back gardens. “Some place you got here,” he says at last.
