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Alessandro
Istayed silent in the back of the car. Apart from eyeing the frankly scary man that was driving me somewhat nervously, I hadn’t even bothered asking a question, knowing I was unlikely to get any answers.
It was my own stupid, naive, fault. I knew better, should know better. I’d been riding a high from the way Dario had seemed to be so attentive, so considerate, and so downright sexy. My stupid romantic heart had been lulled into thinking this might be more than a necessary evil to him.
Then he introduced me to his Terry. It was obvious they had a close friendship. They were too comfortable with each other not to have had one, and if my suspicions were right, their friendship was actually more a relationship.
I sighed and caught the driver looking at me. “Signor Banetti? My name is Alvize. I am to be your personal bodyguard and driver.”
Which gave me the opening I was hoping for. I smiled. “Good to meet you, but I thought Terry Gianelli was going to be my bodyguard?” I feigned innocence.
He nodded. “Yes, Signor. Because there may be times when I am unable to accompany you.” He made it sound so reasonable.
“Have you worked with Terry before?” I kept my voice mildly interested.
“Sorry, no. I’m new to the family.” That did surprise me. “But not new to this type of work,” he hurriedly assured me.
I sighed again, wondering how long it would take us to get to the house. We were heading into Seaview harbor. Not that I’d ever been in this exclusive rich neighborhood, and I imagined with zero enthusiasm the showcase mansion that awaited me. The only benefit might be walks on the beach, assuming I was allowed to go anywhere. We passed four huge houses, all looking like they could house an entire football team with beds to spare, until we turned down a smaller road at the end after the pier. We drove through tall trees blocking any sort of view and arrived at a security gate. Alvize lowered his window and typed in a number I couldn’t see, then waited for the gates to swing open.
Exactly what I was expecting so far.
Then we rounded the corner, and I leaned forward in shock. If Alvize hadn’t come to a stop outside the main door, I would have assumed we were in the wrong place. I didn’t even move for a moment while I drank it in.
It was huge, certainly, but there wasn’t anything mansion-like about it. Two floors, the sides whitewashed stucco with red terracotta roof tiles. The front of the upper story seemed to be totally made of glass. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I had flown to Italy or Spain. It was the most beautiful house I’d ever seen in my entire life.
It took me a moment to realize that Alvize had opened the car door and was waiting, and I apologized and got out, takingin the abundance of greenery. Huge palm trees swayed in the breeze, and while there was a grassy area, it was simply cut. Not manicured like some fancy places. I inhaled the scent of magnolia and gaped at the beautiful colors.
“Alessandro!”
I dragged my gaze to the door and smiled happily at both Nonna and Imelda, my mood and my heart lifting. I rushed over and embraced them both, Alvize following with my meagre suitcase. I walked into the cool foyer and gazed in wonder. It was as beautiful inside as out.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathed.
Imelda grinned. “We have a bottle of champagne on ice and Nonna’s been cooking.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the kitchen. Whatever Nonna had bubbling away on the stove smelled divine and starkly reminded me of my mamma. My throat thickened a moment and Nonna patted my arm as she pushed a glass into my hand. She’d noticed, but Imelda was still chattering away.
This was amazing. Homey. I’d expected some soulless place with a ton of staff but if Nonna was cooking it looked like there wasn’t going to be any.
“I don’t live in, but there’s a spare room if you need me late any night. Alvize will be in Gizella’s room, and Nonna—” Imelda broke off and reddened, chewing her lip.
Nonna muttered something that sounded likeputtana, and my eyes widened at the insult. Who was she calling a slut? “Who’s Gizella?”
Imelda swallowed and looked at Nonna for help, but she was still cursing. “Nonna arrived early this morning to get the house ready for you. She doesn’t usually live here, but I think she might want to.” The last part was whispered, and my eyes crinkled in amusement. “Anyway, she walked in on Gizella entertaining someone.”
I quirked an eyebrow.
Imelda huffed out a breath. “The housekeeper. She was fucking the pool boy in one of the guest suites.”
I gaped. It was like an episode of a daytime drama.
“So Nonna fired them both immediately.”
“I cook,” Nonna pronounced and beckoned me to the stove. I hurried over because she was holding a spoon of something that smelled like heaven out for me to taste. I blew experimentally because it was steaming, and she nodded approvingly. I swallowed the spoonful. It was divine, but then I recognized it and I put a shaky hand to my mouth.
“Bambino mio,” Nonna clucked, taking in my rapidly filling eyes. She took a taste herself and knowing it was good, looked at me in puzzlement.
“Ribollita,” I choked out, naming the Tuscan broth and clutched her hand back. “My mom made this all the time,” I whispered. Her smile softened and she nodded, turning back to the stove.
“I cook,” she declared again.
