Page 27 of The Fixer

His eyebrow climbs up. “How about that apartment you own on the mainland?”

“We can’t live in Marghera; it’s too far for Rosa to commute every day. Besides, her parents will be staying there.”

Tomas doesn’t point out that most of the people who work in Venice commute from the mainland. “I’m assuming that something temporary is out?”

I don’t have to spell it out for Tomas—he’s one of the smartest people I know. “Unfortunately, yes. No hotels, no stopgap leases. It needs to look like we’ve been planning this move for a while.”

“There is the obvious solution. The house you inherited from your father.”

I grimace. I’ve only set foot in the palazzo once, shortly after I found out my father had died and I had inherited all his wealth. I went to look at where he lived in luxury with his wife while only a few streets away, my mother was struggling to feed and clothe me, trying to find a sign he knew or cared about my existence. There wasn’t one.

The palazzo has been lying empty for almost ten years, and I have no idea what kind of condition it’s in. The windows are probably broken, and the roof undoubtedly leaks. But it’s in Santa Croce, not too far from Rosa’s boutique, and even better, it’s large enough that Rosa and I can stay out of each other’s way.

“It’s probably in terrible shape.”

“It almost certainly is,” Tomas agrees. “But given the timeframe, it might be your only option.” He gets to his feet, his expression serious. “If you tell me this isn’t a real marriage, Leo, I’ll believe you. But I think you should give Rosa a chance. You might find yourself being a lot happier with her than you expected.”

“I can’t.”

“Because of Patrizia? I didn’t know her, Leo, but do you really believe she’d want you to mourn her for the rest of your life? I don’t think so. If she loved you, she would want you to find happiness with someone else.”

Tomas is my friend, and I’ve already snapped at him this morning. So I hold my tongue. But the truth is, I have no idea what Patrizia would want. She’s dead. Her life was cut short.Because of me.

It’s tempting to believe that I can be happy with Rosa, but how can I allow myself to want that? I don’t deserve it.

And yet. . .

And yet, I assign bodyguards to watch over Rosa and arrange a team to do the same for her family once they get into Venice.

That afternoon, I find myself walking past the fabric store she loves. When I see a bolt of fabric inthe window, a deep, brown cotton with flecks of green and gold woven through it, I freeze to a halt.

That fabric is the precise color of Rosa’s eyes.

Pushing the door open, I go inside.

15

ROSA

Iwake up on Monday morning with the sun streaming into my bedroom and the familiar sounds of the city outside my window, and for a minute, I almost wonder if the events of the weekend were a dream. Then my eyes land on my engagement ring, and everything comes rushing back.

I’m getting married to Leo early next month.

Can’t dwell on that. I have a ton of work to do this week. At least I’m all set for the fitting today. Last night, after Leo’s abrupt departure, I couldn’t fall asleep, so I sewed up a new muslin for today’s bride, Clara. It was almost three by the time I finished, but I can check it off my to-do list, so I’mcalling it a win.

I head downstairs for coffee and then continue work on the wedding dress I’m making for Daniela Zaniolo, a hugely popular fashion influencer from Milan. Two years ago, I would have given my right arm to be able to design for Daniela, but today, I’m struggling to keep my attention on the dress. I keep looking at my phone, wondering if Leo is going to text me.

He doesn’t. I don’t end up hearing from him until Tuesday night. I’m cooking lemongrass chicken when my phone beeps.

The movers will be at your house at ten. Be at home to let them in.

I roll my eyes. Nothing for two days, and then he texts me withinstructions.

Of course, my lord and master. I live to serve.

Interesting. Tell me more, principessa.

A frisson of excitement runs through me. Damn it. A hint of suggestiveness, and I’m horny for Leo. A devilish urge seizes me.

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