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"Well, the jury is still out," she returned, enjoying their back and forth probably more than she should be.Fortunately, the pizza was arriving, and she was instantly distracted."This looks amazing."
Nick was too busy putting slices on a plate to answer.
To her surprise, he handed her the plate, and then filled one for himself.
It was a small gesture, but it touched her heart.She'd thought Nick was an egotistical ass when she'd met him, but he'd stayed with her last night, talking her down from the ledge she was on.He'd made her breakfast, and now he'd handed her the first slice of pizza.She had misjudged him.He was more generous than she would have imagined, more kind.And it was a little unsettling to realize how wrong she'd been.It was also disturbing to feel the strange sensation of butterflies in her stomach every time he smiled at her.
"Something wrong?"Nick asked, his gaze narrowing."You're not eating."
"Just letting it cool," she said hastily as she picked up her slice and took a bite.She needed to focus on food and not on Nick.That became very easy, because the pizza was absolutely delicious, an explosion of flavor, and even better than she remembered.
"So, after this, we should go to the school," Nick said as he finished his first slice of pizza and grabbed another.
"I agree.I'm kind of excited to see the school where our grandmothers first met.Although it seems oddly coincidental that our investigation into the past should take us there.It's like so many things are intertwined that I wouldn't have thought went together."
"Like you and me?"he asked with a grin.
There went the damn butterflies again.And she couldn't help but smile back."The perfect example.But I was thinking about the relationship between our families and how all these artists are connected.The art world in the sixties seems very small."
"Maybe the passion for art always makes that world small," he said."It is interesting that our grandmothers went to that school."
"And my mother, too.I think Lucinda might have taught there as well.That's a lot of generations of Rossi women."
"Did you ever have any interest in art?"
"When I was really young, I thought it was fun to paint, but that's probably because it was something my mother and I did together.She used to sit by the window and paint, and I'd be on the floor at the coffee table, doing the same."She paused."Funny, I haven't thought about those days in a long time."
"When did your mother stop painting?"
"It was probably a gradual thing.She had to work a lot because we had little money, so time and energy to paint were in short supply.My grandfather told me once that my mother could have been so much more if she hadn't had me.I was the dream killer."
His gaze narrowed as he frowned."You didn't kill her dreams, Isabella.I'm sure your mom didn't think of you that way.Paolo was just a crusty, bitter, and angry man.He should never have said such a cruel thing to you.If he was alive, I'd kick his ass."
"I don't think our grandmothers would let you.But I appreciate the thought."
"Your mom was young when she got pregnant.And she was alone.She should have been treated with more compassion."
"I agree.And she tried to be a good mother for the early part of my life.She would even tell you she married my stepfather because she wanted me to have more opportunities.Unfortunately, that's not what happened.She'd made another mistake, and it was an even worse one.Anyway, we don't have to talk about her."
"That might become more difficult if we keep going down the road we're on," he said, a serious note in his voice."I don't know what we'll find when we dig further into the pasts of our respective families, Isabella.Maybe it will all be good, but there's a chance it could be bad, and you're just starting to like your family after meeting Joelle.Are you sure you want to take that risk?"
"I can't stop now.Not just because I want to find the paintings or figure out why they were taken.Someone tried to kill me last night, and I want that person to pay."
"He's already in custody.He'll go to prison for what he did."
"He will, but not the person who sent him.And I want to get him, too."
"Or her.We don't know if we're dealing with a man or a woman."
"That's true.Everyone is a suspect."
"Everyone, including people you might like very much."
"It's not Joelle," she said, reading his pointed gaze."Why would you even think that?"
"I didn't say her name.You did."
She didn't like that he was right—again.
