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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

NICO

N ico had booked a room at the Hotel de la Ville, a small hotel in the town of Monza. She’d declined Celeste’s invitation to stay at Dario’s parents’ villa on Lake Como. If Dario was staying at the villa, that meant Rocco was too.

Things are improving between us. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Not when we’re doing so much better on the track.

So why do you feel more uncomfortable around him now than you did before?

You know why.

That dream.

After paying the driver, she stood alongside her suitcase outside the hotel, gazing up at its cream walls adorned with ivy draping from its rooftop like a stunning emerald necklace.

Entering the hotel felt more like entering the home of a count or a marquis. The mahogany walls were decorated with portraits of what Nico could only guess were members of the nobility from days gone by.

When she walked into her suite, the sun was streaming through the French doors that led out onto a balcony.

All the furnishings were made of rich dark wood.

Scattered about were Chinese vases, a Tibetan chest, and eighteenth-century painted fans.

In the bedroom, a king-sized canopy bed with an intricately carved wooden headboard was draped with fine silk fabric.

The marble bathroom was equipped with both a spacious walk-in shower and a claw-foot bathtub.

She sighed, staggered over to the bed, and collapsed.

Her sluggish eyelids blinked twice before shutting altogether.

She told herself she would nap for an hour.

Then she would walk around the town, get some dinner, and then head back here for a good night’s sleep.

No sooner had she completed this thought than she’d drifted off.

When she opened her eyes, it took her a moment to realize where she was. The sky was a deep purple. Soon, it would be black. How long had she been asleep?

She got out of bed and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was eight o’clock. Dinner was still possible and, beyond that, a necessity, she thought as her stomach grumbled.

She jumped in the shower and once out, towel-dried her hair. She threw on jeans and a sweater, shoved her feet into a pair of her favorite sneakers, and grabbed her purse.

Maybe I’ll bring some food back, buy a bottle of wine, and sit out on the balcony. It’s so lovely.

Just then Nico blinked as something flew from the sky.

She opened the French doors and saw two stuffed toys.

One appeared to be either Thing One or Thing Two from Dr. Seuss’s The Cat in the Hat . She couldn’t tell which because the circle on its chest that would have told her was missing, leaving a gaping hole. The other was a doll—a girl with short blonde hair, wearing a superhero costume.

After picking them up, she leaned over the railing, glanced up, and spied two smiling faces looking down at her.

Holding up the two items, she cleared her throat and asked in Italian, “Do these belong to you?”

The girls looked at each other, giggling.

Okay, so her Italian sucked.

“Are you American?” the taller one asked in impeccable English.

Nico nodded. “How can you tell?”

They giggled some more.

“So,” Nico ventured. “I take it these belong to you?”

They nodded.

“We meant to throw them onto the patio in the garden down below,” the shorter of the two said.

The taller girl rolled her eyes. “Lame, huh? They bounced off the edge of your railing, which made them drop onto your balcony. Would have been cool if we’d meant to do it. Like a Tim bank shot.”

“Tim?” Nico asked.

“Duncan, dummy.”

“You’re the dummy,” the smaller one said, pushing the taller one. “More like Kareem.”

They must be sisters , Nico thought, smiling.

“You’re the dummy,” the taller one pushed back. “You’re also the shorty.”

The smaller girl stuck her tongue out at the other girl. “It’s not nice to call someone a dummy.”

“Sorry, lady,” the taller one said, looking down at Nico. “I shouldn’t have called you dummy just because you don’t know who Tim Duncan is.”

“I know who Tim Duncan is,” Nico said. “He played for the San Antonio Spurs. One of the greatest power forwards to ever play the game. He had a wicked bank shot and won five NBA championships.” She paused.

“Although, I’d take Kareem’s skyhook bank shot over Duncan’s any day. He won six NBA championships.”

The smaller girl extended her spine and appeared to grow a couple of inches taller as she lifted her chin, grinning large at Nico.

The taller girl didn’t seem to object and appeared to be just as pleased.

“You know a lot about basketball,” she said.

“So do you. Look, I was just headed out. I’ll leave these at the front desk, and you and your parents can pick them up whenever you want.”

“Our parents aren’t here,” the shorter one said.

Some adult or family member must be up there with them.

“Well, whoever’s looking after you, then.”

The taller girl scoffed. “I’m seven, and I can look after myself. She’s five, and I can look after her.”

“Nuh-uh. I can look after myself too.”

The taller girl shrugged. “Fine,” she spat. “We can look after ourselves.”

“Why don’t I bring these up to you?”

They both nodded, smiling, eagerly waving their hands for her to come up.

Nico sighed. She was hungry. She needed to eat something. At this point, she’d settle for some cardboard as long as she could smother it in ketchup.

When she got to the room, she’d barely knocked once before the door swung open and the two girls were standing there. She made a move to hand them the toys, but they grabbed her wrists and pulled her inside.

The place was huge—much larger than her suite. To the left she could see what looked like a living or sitting room. To the right was a hallway, which must lead to the bedrooms.

“Um, don’t you have an adult staying with you?” Nico asked, looking around but seeing no one.

“Don’t need one,” the taller one said before clasping her palms to her cheeks Home Alone style and screaming.

Nico jumped. Had she seen a mouse?

“Is that Calvin and Hobbes ?” she shrieked, pointing at Nico’s sneakers.

The shorter one jumped up and down, running circles around Nico. “It is. It is. There’s Sally!”

Nico smiled. They were her favorite sneakers. They were colorful and had Calvin and Hobbes cartoons covering the body of the shoe.

“Pretty cool, huh?” she said, lifting her feet and showing off the shoes from all sides.

“Very cool,” the taller one said, nodding.

“Most decidedly cool,” the shorter one said, nodding as well.

Nico had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

The taller one introduced herself. “I’m Sofia. And this,” she said, pointing to the other girl, “is my little sister Beatrice.”

“I’m her younger sister,” Beatrice said. “Not little. I may be shorter now, but that’s only because she’s seven and I’m only five. I plan on being taller than her in the future.”

Nico stood looking from one to the other, nodding and doing her best to muster a serious expression. They were a real kick.

“And who might you be?” Beatrice asked.

“I’m Nico. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sofia said.

“To be sure,” Beatrice said.

A chortle burst from Nico’s mouth, which she quickly covered up with a cough. “You both speak English fluently.”

“We learn it at school, and our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents speak it, so we get lots of practice.”

“Where are you going?” Sofia asked.

“Out to get some dinner.”

“Are you hungry?”

Starving , she thought.

They pulled her into an adjoining room with a sofa, some chairs, and a collection of toys and games strewn about the floor.

After passing through two more rooms they finally arrived at the dining room, complete with a table that could seat as many as twelve people and a candelabra chandelier hanging above it.

She had thought her suite was spacious, but it looked like a broom closet compared with this palace.

There on the table was a pizza box.

“It just came. We haven’t even started yet.”

They lifted the cover, and the delicious smell of cheese, tomato, prosciutto, peppers, and caramelized onions on toasty crust wafted toward her nose. It looked and smelled like it had been baked in a stone oven—a mere hint of charcoal on the golden crust around the edge.

Nico clutched her stomach. She kept her mouth shut so that she didn’t drool on the carpet beneath her feet. It looked Persian. And expensive.

“What about your mom and dad?”

“They’ll be here soon,” Sofia said. “They won’t mind.”

“Come on,” Beatrice said.

They dragged her to the table. Not that she put up much resistance.

“There’s plenty.” Sofia pulled out a chair for Nico and then sat in the one beside her.

Should she do this?

It was a muddle, and one she couldn’t think through with her stomach drowning out her brain.

Well, she knew this much. She couldn’t leave them.

And she knew something else. That pizza was within reach, not more than an arm’s length away, and it was now screaming at her.

The girls were going to eat it anyway. So, why not join in as long as she was here?

The three of them each grabbed a slice and munched away. Damn, it was good.

“So,” Nico said in between bites. “Why did you throw your toys over your terrace? Would Thing One or Thing Two not fly kites in the house?”

More giggling.

“It isn’t Thing One or Thing Two anymore, it’s just Thing.

” Beatrice climbed off her chair, grabbed the stuffed toy, and brought it back to the table to show Nico.

“See. He’s lost some of his stuffing. Cat thought he was a chew toy and destroyed the other one completely. So, there’s only Thing now.”

Cat?

“I see,” Nico said as she shoved a second slice into her mouth.

That’s when she heard a voice—a man’s voice—coming from the other room.