Page 13 of Cryptic Curse
And when she’s ready, I need to be here.
I’ll be studying at the Beaux-Arts Culinary Institute here in Austin.Maybe one day I’ll work as a chef in a fine restaurant.
Or maybe I’ll fall in love and get married and simply cook for my family.
Honestly, I’m good with either outcome.
Though… Could I ever be a wife?I’m kind of broken.I’ve never actually had sex for love.
It’s always been painful, difficult, and life-draining.
“For the love of God, Daniela,” I say out loud.“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”I grab Raven’s purse and head back down the stairs.
As I walk toward the conservatory, the gorgeous strains of Debussy are trailing off.Belinda has reached the end.Good.At least I won’t have to interrupt her in the middle of the piece.
I give a soft knock on the open conservatory door so she knows I’m coming in.
She looks up from the piano and gives me a small smile.She’s smiling so much more lately.She truly is a beautiful child with blond hair and blue eyes.She was actually promised to Vinnie as part of some deal her father made with Vinnie’s grandfather.Declan McAllister wasn’t happy when Vinnie came home from Colombia with me as his wife.But he died pretty soon after that, so…
Vinnie had him killed.He had my father killed.He had Diego Vega killed.
Yet I feel safer with Vinnie than I’ve ever felt with anyone.
I know he’ll never harm me, and I know he’ll never harm Belinda.
He has done everything in his power to help us heal from our pasts.
“Hey, sweetie,” I say to Belinda.
She pops up from the piano bench and gives me a hug.“Hi, Dani.”
“I hate to interrupt your practice,” I say, pointing to Raven’s purse, “but I need to take this over to the hospital to Raven.And since the house is empty at the moment?—”
She nods.“Oh, that’s great.I’ll just go with you then.”
Belinda is getting much more comfortable going out in public.Vinnie and I try to get her out of the house as much as we can, taking her out to lunch, to the park, to the shopping mall.
She places her sheet music back inside the piano bench.She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, only socks—light-blue with rubber ducks on them—on her feet.She doesn’t like to play the piano with shoes on, says she has more control over the pedals without them.
“Have you seen my shoes?”she asks.
I grin, pointing to her sneakers that are sitting on the floor at the doorway.“You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached.”
She laughs lightly.“Probably.”She walks over and slides her feet into her sneakers.“These are the most comfortable shoes ever.”
She’s told me how her father kept her in little-girl party dresses and Mary Janes.When we let her go to the mall and pick out her own wardrobe, she was thrilled.We left with huge bags filled to the brim with leisure wear and denim, not to mention some funky socks.Raven and I got giddy watching her.
“You may need a light jacket,” I say.
She laughs.“This is Texas.”
“I know, but the wind is brisk today.”
She shrugs.“Okay.”
As we walk out of the conservatory, Belinda grabs a fleece zip-up hoodie from the coat rack.I’m already wearing a sweatshirt, so I should be fine.Like Belinda, I’m wearing sneakers and jeans, and my dark hair is up in a messy bun.
Also like Belinda, I don’t have to look perfect to be on display for anyone anymore.
