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“I’m just so grateful to know that you’re okay. After such a close call…” Signora Romney is almost overcome with emotion, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she reaches across her daughter’s plate to give Tia’s hand a warm squeeze.
“Thank you. Me too.” Tia gives a breathy smile, her face relaxing after getting through the strenuous retelling of an experience that is clearly still fresh in her physical memory.
And it seems like we might just be out of the woods when it comes to tiptoeing around the condemning facts.
“Why were you running in the first place?” Mayor Romney asks, his question like a punch to the gut.
The table falls silent for a beat, and when Tia meets my eyes, I’m sure all my carefully laid plans are about to unravel with this one loose thread.
32
TIA
The table falls deathly silent, and when my gaze travels instinctively to Leo, I can see it in his eyes—he’s put everything on the line here.
For whatever reason, he does not want the mayor to know about the blatant murder he performed in the woods—despite his apparent comfort with most people knowing about his violent grab for power.
I could teach him a valuable lesson here and now: destroy whatever relationship he’s trying to build with the mayor, possibly even get him arrested for murder. But what are the odds that the mayor would be able to prove Leo’s guilt?
And besides, saying anything now wouldn’t bring Leo to his knees. It might hurt him. It might create a significant roadblock in whatever his goals are with the mayor, but it wouldn’t destroy him. Anything short of that will only come back to hurt me, my family, and my unborn baby.
I need to wait for the opportune moment.
Even if it kills me to be patient.
Quickly doing my best to recover, I give another incredulous laugh as I tear my eyes from Leo’s before their stricken expression can send me into a full panic. “You’re not going to believe me,” I confess to buy myself time to come up with an elaborate lie.
Then it hits me, and I boldly meet the mayor’s inquisitive eyes. “Leo and I were enjoying a picnic together in the woods when this black bear waltzed right into camp. No fear, no shame. I, of course, panicked and ran. Of course, knowing the hazard in the direction I was running, Leo came after me. But I was just so terrified, I couldn’t stop myself until it was too late.”
The mayor releases a low whistle, and for a moment, I worry that I overdid my tale. It won’t do us any good if he can see through my lie.
“You must be one of the bravest men I’ve ever met,” the mayor’s wife confesses.
And to my immense relief, the mayor agrees, his support emphatic. “What happened to the bear?” he asks then, his eyes shifting between me and Leo.
At this point, Leo cuts in—thankfully, as I’m running out of steam on my story, my confidence balancing on a knife’s edge. But his confidence smooths the rough edges of my fabrication with expert ease. “The bear honestly seemed more interested in the picnic than either of us. He didn’t follow when I went running after Tia. He must have just seen the picnic basket as a good free lunch. The food was gone by the time I went back to collect it the next day.”
“Well, it looks like you’re finally getting that picnic, eh?” the mayor asks jovially as our meal arrives.
The rich smell of stuffed shells fills the air, and I glance at Leo gratefully. It’s one of the few dishes I can’t seem to tire of now that I’m pregnant. And it works wonders at keeping my stomach calm and happy.
He gives me a playful wink, and butterflies erupt in my stomach as the unexpected gesture takes me completely off guard. Why I would find a wink so entirely sexy, I can’t say. But I’m suddenly warm with giddiness.
When the conversation shifts to a more casual exchange, I turn my attention to little Leah and Hannah. They ask me a hundred and one questions about the castle I live in and if the silverware ever starts to sing and dance.
It makes me smile, their excitement on the same level as if they were visiting Disney World for the first time. And their giggles fill the room as they talk about wanting to find a prince charming just like I have. It melts my heart and, at the same time, makes me intensely aware of how different perception can be from reality.
And though Signora Romney tries to rein them in, their enthusiasm is unrelenting.
By the end of the evening, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much—in a very good way. I genuinely adore the Romney family.
“Honey, don’t you think it’s time we put the children to bed?” Signora Romney suggests lightly, placing her hand on her husband’s arm.
He glances at his watch, and his eyes widen. “Is that the time? Yes, I think we might have overstayed our welcome. We’ll let Signora Moretti get her rest as well,” he says, giving me a warm smile.
“Believe me, I’ve appreciated the distraction,” I assure him.
“Ah, speaking of distractions, before we go, I wanted to reiterate the invitation I gave your husband earlier today. We completely understand if you can’t attend, but Alicia and I would love it if you could come to our charity event the weekend after this coming one—as our honored guests.” The mayor places his hand over his heart in what I’ve come to learn is his signature gesture of heartfelt sincerity.
