Page 50 of Deception

“And give the twins the satisfaction of making fun of me for dying in such a lame way? Not a chance.”

“You know what to do if there’s important news? Or the worst-case scenario.”

“I know. I’ll code it back to you, make the necessary calls.”

“Andare con Dio, Adriano.”

The ladies shuffle out in their warmest gear, Carla fussing over the entire situation, Ava, and her husband. She’s rattling off a barrage of scoldings at me in Italian, wagging her finger.

“Carla, go home to your grandbabies. You can come back and fuss over me when this blows over.”

I wait until they reach the road before closing the garage door and rushing inside to strip out of my snow-covered coat, boots, and pants. The fire in the den beckons me, its heat reviving me.

Isabella leans in the doorway, watching me.

“I hope they’ll be okay.”

“They will,” I shudder, cupping my hands toward the flames. “Will you be alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She shivers, catching a taste of the outside air and pulling back.

“It’s all too easy to get used to someone waiting on you hand and foot. We’ll have to fend for ourselves. Cook. Clean.” If anything, I may struggle with it more than her.

“Oh, the horror! Are you sure you can handle it, Mr. CEO?”

“I’ll have you know that I am one hell of a cook. The twins were extremely picky growing up. Had to get really good at making the one meal they would eat.”

“Which was?”

“Spaghetti.”

“And meatballs?”

“Never got that far.”

“Well then, I’m glad my mamma taught me how to make a few more things than that!” She shakes her head, heading toward the kitchen.

After I warm up enough, I track her down, finding her washing a few dishes and tidying up. “You really don’t need to do that, not yet anyway.”

“Who else is going to do it? And it’s nice to feel productive. This holiday is nice, but relaxing all day and having someone tend to your needs has its drawbacks. I’m used to taking care of myself.”

“I can relate. Feels like you never really have time to yourself when there’s a house staff.”

“Present company excluded.”

“Of course. I’ll admit, it’s been really nice having you here,” I nearly bite my tongue as the words slip out. Not because I don’t mean them. But the look she gives me is smug, like she just won another competition I didn’t know we were having.

A gust of wind hammers against the house, rattling the windows.

The storm is getting worse again.

By nightfall, we can’t see more than a few feet outside the front door, nothing through the windows. I’ve taken to pacing the landing, my fists clenching and unclenching.

“Alessandro?” Isabella asks tentatively, looking up at me from the kitchen.

“I’m fine. Just…I shouldn’t have sent them out in this.”

“It’s alright to worry. I’m sure they’re fine. It probably took them a while to get down.”

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