Page 48 of Now and Forever

Did Dario take Josie’s virginity?

I tried to push my questions away.

Thirty-plus minutes later, my hair was dry and hanging loose, and my face had a fresh coat of light makeup, not as much as for the wedding. My eyes were made up with shadow, liner, and mascara. I had a tint of blush on my cheeks and color on my lips. Wrapped in a bathrobe, the same one from this morning, I selected a green sheath dress. Mireya said my eyes looked brighter when I wore green. My excitement grew as I added an emerald and diamond necklace Dario had sent me for my birthday.

I slipped my feet into a pair of low heels.

As I walked toward the door, I noticed the tray that had contained my lunch. Lifting it, I carried it back to the kitchen. It was a quarter to seven as I reached the kitchen entry. “Hello,” I called.

The room was empty, yet a delicious aroma told me there had been something cooked. I peeked in the oven. Empty. I looked in the refrigerator. There were two covered plates. Were they for Armando and another guard?

Around the corner and through a swinging door, I came to the dining room. There were two places set, complete with plates of food. Walking closer, I reached out, touching the congealed, separated béarnaise sauce in a small gravy pitcher. The ice cubes in the water goblets were mostly melted. And the red salmon and small potatoes were cold to the touch.

Disappointment battled with anger for my top emotion.

What the hell is this?

ChapterFourteen

Catalina

Pulling my neck straight, I felt my blood warm. Not only wasn’t Dario home, nor had I heard from him, but dinner was obviously served at least an hour ago with no concern for my attendance. I was upstairs. How hard would it have been for Contessa to come up and tell me dinner was ready?

Steeling my resolve, I took the plate, the one from the seat not at the head of the table, into the kitchen. Thankfully, this kitchen didn’t have faux cabinets over all the appliances. I put the plate into the microwave and hit thirty seconds.

“Shit,” I exclaimed as sparks within popped and an alarm overhead began to squeal. Opening the door, I reached for the plate, feeling the heat and for the first time, noticing the silver filigree on the edge of the china. “Well, shit,” I mumbled as I dropped the warm plate onto the surface of the range.

Thankfully, the plate remained intact, and the alarm ceased.

Armando came around the corner with his gun drawn. “What happened?” He scanned the room before lowering his gun.

“Apparently, silver doesn’t microwave well.”

Armando released a breath.

As I looked around the kitchen, I remembered that Armando had eaten his sandwich on a paper plate—a material that could be rewarmed without burning down the apartment. Before I had a chance to ask where he found it, Contessa entered.

No longer was she wearing the apron. Her eyes were opened wide. “What happened? Why was the alarm sounding?”

I repeated what I’d said to Armando. “Silver apparently doesn’t microwave.”

“Of course it doesn’t microwave,” she said disapprovingly as she opened the pantry door and stepped inside, returning with a paper plate. “Let me do it,” she said, pushing me out of the way. Her voice was filled with exasperation. “Mrs. Luciano, I’m not sure who taught you to cook, but in this house, we don’t put sterling silver in the microwave.”

“Didn’t you get the message from Mr. Luciano that he was delayed?” Armando asked.

Shaking my head, I leaned against the counter, fighting my tears combined with my desire to explode. “No,” I replied to Armando. Next, I spoke to Contessa. “Obviously, I didn’t notice the silver.” I shook my head. “I didn’t realize dinner was served at a precise time. Do you always leave Dario’s dinner on the table to get cold?”

“No, ma’am. When he isn’t home, I usually make him a plate and put it in the refrigerator. I knew you were home.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that dinner was ready?”

Contessa moved the food from the china onto the paper plate, laid the plate in the microwave, and closing the door pushed a few buttons. This time, no sparks flew. She turned around, facing me. “In the future, please inform me what time you plan to eat dinner, and I will oblige.”

The taste of copper let me know I was biting my cheek. This wasn’t a situation that was going to resolve itself. I took a deep breath. “Contessa, I’m sorry if my presence offends you. If it’s any consolation, I had no say in this marriage. That said, I’m here, and I want to make it work. To do that, the two of us must work together. Surely, you care about Mr. Luciano’s happiness.”

Armando slipped away.

Contessa looked down and back up. “I do care about his happiness.”