Page 30 of The Fixer

I give him a daringly blatant once-over. “I can’t see anything wrong with your body. At all.”

He chokes on his wine, and I swear he blushes a little.Adorable.“When you invited me to your hotel room, you couldn’t even meet my eyes. You looked like you were ready to bolt. What happened to that version of Rosa?”

“I’m older now. I turned twenty-five, you know.”

“Our encounter was less than two months ago.”He surveys me, a smile dancing in his eyes. “And you didn’t turn twenty-five in June. Your birthday is in April.”

“How do you know that? And when’s your birthday?”

“September,” he replies, ignoring my first question.

I lean forward. “It’s September now. Oh God, it isn’t today, is it? I don’t have a present for you.”

Leo gives me a puzzled glance. “It’s not today, and even if it was, why would I expect you to get me anything?”

Oh, buddy, you have no idea. “Birthdays are a big deal in my family. When in September?”

“In a couple of weeks.”

Getting Leo to volunteer personal information is like pulling teeth. I smile sweetly at him over my glass of wine. “What date, orsacchiotto mio?”

His lips twitch. “The twenty-first,” he admits grudgingly.

I pull out my phone and mark it on my calendar. The pizza arrives as I’m tucking it away. I ordered a fig, gorgonzola, and prosciutto pizza, and Leo went old school and stuck to the Margherita, which also looks amazing. I’m trying to think of a polite way ofasking him if I can steal a slice when he says, “Want to share them?”

“You are the best.”

He shakes his head bemusedly. “You need to raise your standards, principessa.”

I fall upon the pizza as if I haven’t seen food in years. Leo wisely makes no comments about my appetite. “Have you heard from your parents?” he asks instead.

“My mother discovered texting four years ago. Ever since then, I hear from her at least three times a day whether I like it or not.” God, this fig and prosciutto pizza is delicious. And so is the Margherita. Can’t decide which one is my favorite. “She called this afternoon. Her transfer came through in record time, and she wanted me to thank you. And my dad said he didn’t realize that your friend Ander was Ander Reinhart of Reinhart Automotive. Evidently, working there is his dream job.” I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It was nothing,” he says, uncomfortable with my gratitude. “I needed to bank somewhere anyway, and Ander’s always looking for good people. He’ll owe me a favor for this. What about Hugh? How’s he doing?”

According to my mother, Hugh hasn’t left the house this week. “He spends all day in his room, and he’s not eating,” she told me today. “Yesterday, I made his favorite soup, and he didn’t even eat a bowlful. Do you know what’s going on?”

I don’t. I wish he’d talk to me. I’ve texted him a couple of times since I got back, asking how he’s doing, and both times, he’s replied with just one word. Fine. But I know Hugh. He’s a happy extrovert, someone who likes to be the life of the party. For him to stay in his room. . .

I have so many worries about my brother, but I don’t want to burden Leo with them. “Hugh is Hugh,” I reply. “He’ll be fine once he’s in Venice. Are you going to tell me about where we’re moving?”

“So impatient,” he says with a laugh. “You’ll see it in less than an hour. Don’t get your hopes up. It’s a bit of a dump. Marta did her best to clean it, but it needs much more than vacuuming.”

“Marta, the same hot woman who packed my stuff?”

His lips curve up. “You think she’s hot?”

The wine is loosening my tongue. “Why, are you going to fantasize about the two of us making out? Naked?”

“Marta doesn’t show up in my fantasies,principessa. You, on the other hand—” He stops what he’s saying abruptly and drains the rest of his wine.

And as daring as I’ve been tonight, I can’t bring myself to ask him to finish that sentence.

16

ROSA

“This is it.”

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