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“Okay, I’ll ask. You’ll find her way in the back, in one of the old rooms off to the right.”
Michael flicked on the lights, then stepped back outside as I descended the cellar steps. It was quiet, not a sound. The light illuminated only the main tasting area, so I turned on the flashlight on my mobile and went deeper into the cellar, toward the darkness. Cobwebs draped the unlit sconces on the walls and casks lined each side of the old stone floor.
I shined my light in every doorway. On my fourth try, I saw a lump curled up on a leather couch.
Angelo mio.
The tight band around my heart eased. There she was, breathing softly as she slept, her eyes closed, still wearing her coat. She was okay. Unharmed, at least physically. Thank Christ.
I saw a bottle of spirits on the table and frowned. I didn’t like her drinking alone down here. What if she fell?
Coming closer, I shined the light on the wall above her, so it wasn’t directly in her face. She looked so peaceful, so fucking beautiful. Then I noticed tracks on her face. Had she been crying?
My stomach dropped. I hated the idea of her down here drinking and crying. If she was still mad at me, why not yell and scream at me? Why go off and hide?
Fuck this.
I turned off the light and put my phone away, then I slid my arms underneath her and lifted her up gently, holding her close. The movement roused her. Startled, she sucked in a breath and jerked. “W-what the fuck? Vito, is that you?”
I kissed her forehead. “It’s me. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
She settled into me, wrapping her arms around my neck as I carried her toward the exit. “You weren’t supposed to find me here,” she said, her voice groggy.
“No?”
“I just wanted to be alone for a few minutes.”
“You’ve been missing for four hours.”
She shook her head against her arm. “No, that can’t be right.”
The corridor was dark, so I followed the light from the tasting room. “You disappeared at lunch time. It’s almost five.”
“Well, someone wore me out last night.”
“You had everyone worried about you.”
“Were you worried?”
How could she even ask such a ridiculous question? “I don’t like you drinking and crying alone. It’s not safe down here.”
“It’s perfectly safe, and that’s my own private breakdown room. You’re not supposed to know about it.”
Breakdown?
I decided not to press her. Not here, not now. Later, when she was relaxed with food in her stomach. I could smell the spirits on her breath. “Did you eat lunch, or just drink whiskey?”
“Just whiskey.”
Good thing I asked for Maz to send food. We entered the main room and she shielded her eyes from the overhead light. “You can put me down. I’m awake and I can walk.”
“No chance,” I said and started up the steps.
I went to the cellar door, the one Michael had opened earlier, but there was a sign about an alarm sounding if I tried to leave. “How do I disable the alarm?”
“There’s no alarm. That sign is just for show.”
Cristo santo. Did she and Michael not prioritize their safety at all? “I’m fixing that tomorrow,” I promised and pushed through the metal door.