Page 4

CHAPTER 4

M assimo

All of the troubles plaguing my mind seem to melt away when I see Lea walk into Bellissima’s.

For a moment, she’s the only thing that matters. She’s wearing a red dress that hugs her curves perfectly. Her gorgeous green eyes reflect a hint of nervousness. First date jitters, perhaps? Is that what I’m feeling, too? No, that can’t be it. I haven’t done this in a really long time, but I was never the jitters type. I see what I want and go after it—but I can’t do that tonight.

Tonight is just to take my mind off everything. A short mental vacation. Keeping up appearances. If Emilio is anything like me, he’s got someone watching and reporting my every move. He’ll be surprised to hear that I’m on a date, but I doubt he’ll care. Not if he’s decided to eliminate me because I’m in the way of his ambitions.

I stand up when Lea approaches and walk around the table to pull out her chair.

“You look ravishing, bambina . Simply ravishing.” I motion to the chair and she sits down.

“Thank you,” she whispers, picking up her napkin and rolling the edge between her thumb and index finger.

Nervous. Definitely nervous. That’s not a bad thing. If she’s nervous, it means she likes me. And she’s here. That means I made a good first impression on the boat. I shouldn’t care about that. There’s no future for us. I’m too broken and the only thing left in my heart is poison. But I can sit across the table from her and share a nice meal. Talk. Feel like a regular human being instead of a miserable wretch for a little while.

“How are you feeling?” I ask as I return to my chair and pour a glass of wine for her. “Stomach okay?”

“Better,” she says, then winces. “But still a little queasy. I probably shouldn’t have any wine.”

“At least have a sip,” I encourage. “If you don’t like it, we can order something else. I’m sure they have ginger beer if you’d prefer, or ginger ale if you don’t want alcohol. How’s your hand doing?”

“It’s fine.” She shows me the Band-Aid.

“Good, good,” I say. “Try the wine, bambina . Tell me what you think.”

She nods and puts a hand on her glass, then she turns the label of the bottle toward her. “Morandi Vineyards. Is that your family’s vineyard?”

“It is,” I confirm.

Lea lifts the glass of wine and takes a tiny sip. Barely enough to flavor her tongue. She swishes it for a moment and swallows, but her face stays neutral.

“Is it terrible?” I ask, watching her reaction carefully.

“It’s good…” she says apprehensively, then she takes another sip and nods. “Really good, and I usually don’t like wine.”

“Like I said earlier,” I chuckle, feeling a bit better now that I know she likes the wine. “Sometimes it’s delicious poison.”

Lea smiles, but it looks unnatural and forced. Nothing like the beautiful one I saw on the boat. Something is bothering her, and I don’t think it’s just nerves. I shouldn’t care, but I can’t let go of it. There’s something stirring inside of me—a beast that I thought was dead.

“So, do you come here often?” she asks, putting the glass down and folding her hands in her lap. “To Isola Selvaggia?”

“No, not really,” I admit. “But I don’t want to talk about me. I’m boring. I want to talk about you.”

Redness tints her cheeks and she looks away. It looks like she wants to say something, but she shakes it off.

“I-I doubt you’re boring,” she laughs and I detect even more nervousness in her gaze when she looks back at me. “I’m the boring one. What you see is what you get.”

“I like what I see,” I say, biting my tongue as soon as the words leave my lips. I shouldn’t have said that, even if it’s true. Even if something I never thought I’d feel again is simmering below the surface. “Tell me more about yourself, bambina . You said your grandmother raised you?”

“Y-yeah,” she answers, fidgeting with the napkin in her lap. “My mom got pregnant when she was really young. My dad—he didn’t want kids. Well, that’s what he said back then, but now I’ve got two brothers and a sister I’ve never even met.”

“He abandoned your mom? And you?” My jaw tenses angrily. I despise men who walk out on their families.

“Sorta,” she replies. “My mom left me with him. He left me with my grandmother. Grandma was pretty angry about it, based on what I’ve heard. She told him if he left, not to ever bother coming back, because she didn’t raise him like that. They never spoke again. He didn’t even come to her funeral.”

“Damn,” I sigh, taking a sip of my wine. “Maybe it was for the best, hmm? Your grandmother raised a fine young woman. I’m sure she did a much better job than he would have done, if he didn’t even care enough to look after you when you needed him most.”

“Yes, my grandmother was amazing,” Lea says, a hint of a smile appearing on the edges of her lips before quickly disappearing. “I never felt like I was missing out on anything, even though it was just the two of us. She made everything fun.”

“I can tell you miss her.” I lean back slightly. “It’s normal to feel directionless after you lose someone close to you.”

A twinge of pain radiates inside me. I know exactly how that feels. Being directionless and lost. Like the world forgot all about your happiness, or karma finally came, holding the Grim Reaper’s scythe, except it isn’t your soul being reaped.

“Is that how you felt?” she asks. “After your wife…”

I wasn’t planning on talking about her tonight. That wound has never fully healed. It’s so easy to rip open. So quick to bleed. But I won’t hide from it. Layla’s memory means too much for me to sweep it under the rug and pretend she never mattered. She was everything to me.

“Yes,” I admit, lifting my wine to my lips and flooding my mouth with the sweetness. “Still do, most of the time. Some days are harder than others.”

I can’t hide the pain when I talk about Layla. I can feel the pressure along the sides of my eyes that mingles with the tightness in my throat, tensing my entire face. Lea seems to notice. She swallows hard, looks down, and fidgets with her napkin before reaching for her wine. I’m blowing it. Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe there’s too much pain left for me to sit across the table from a beautiful woman and have a normal conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Lea whispers, downing enough wine for me to fill her glass again. “I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that.”

“No, I’d rather talk about you,” I sigh. I need to turn this around before she’s as miserable as I am. “What were you doing before you lost your direction, bambina ? Going to school? Working?”

Lea begins to answer, but then Monica walks up to our table and clicks her pen as she introduces herself to my date. Lea and I haven’t even looked at the menu yet. I sigh and pick it up, motioning for Lea to do the same.

“Oh, this menu is in Italian,” Lea says apprehensively. “I don’t…”

“Don’t worry, most people who come here don’t speak Italian,” Monica says, nibbling her bottom lip. “Tell me what you like and I’ll try to match it up with something on the menu.”

I speak Italian and could translate everything, but Lea seems content with Monica’s offer, so I let them converse. Layla used to like for me to choose something for her, and I almost did it out of instinct.

“No clams. No seafood at all,” Lea states. “And no red sauce. I got sick on the boat earlier.”

With Monica’s assistance, Lea chooses a chicken and pasta dish. The most neutral thing on the menu. Probably a good choice since she mentioned her stomach is still bothering her. I’d normally choose seafood since everything is fresh and caught daily by the locals, but the smell might not be pleasant for Lea, so I settle for cotoletta di vitello —veal parmigiana, with a side of broccoli and sweet cherry peppers. After Monica walks away from the table, I turn my attention back to Lea.

“I believe you were about to tell me what you were doing before you lost your direction,” I say, sipping my wine again.

“Right,” Lea sighs. “I guess it isn’t fair to say I lost my direction entirely after my grandmother passed. I was already spinning in the wind and unsure what I wanted to do with my life. I started college, but didn’t like my major, so I dropped out and got a job. A really terrible job that I hated even worse than school. Then my grandmother got sick, and I had to take care of her for a while.”

“Admirable,” I remark. “Family is important.”

Or it should be. I was raised to value family above everything else. The lesson must not have resonated with my brother like it did with me, considering that he’s decided I’m in the way of what he wants.

“Yeah,” Lea agrees, but she starts fidgeting with her napkin again.

Uncomfortable silence. I’m not sure what else to say. She opened up about her grandmother, but there’s still so much hesitation in her eyes. I thought it was nerves, but there’s something else lingering below the surface. What could it be? She seemed so different on the boat, even when she was sick. It’s probably me. I used to be able to keep a conversation going with no effort at all. There’s so much I want to know about Lea. I want to know everything . But that’s complicated, because conversations go both ways, and there’s so much I can’t share.

“The weather is supposed to be great while we’re here,” I say absently, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“Really? That’s good,” she responds, dragging her wineglass closer and letting it sit in front of her.

“Are you doing anything fun away from the resort while you’re here?” I ask. “If you’re feeling up to it, of course.”

“Yeah,” she answers and it looks like she doesn’t want to elaborate, but when the silence lingers, she continues. “I-I’m supposed to go on an excursion tomorrow to see the ruins and all the statues.”

“Ah, yes, a popular attraction.” I force a smile, feeling a twinge of my naturally protective nature bubble to the surface. “But if you’re leaving the resort, bambina , be careful. Stay with the tour guide and don’t wander off. Especially if you go to town. Stay in the tourist area.”

“I read that online.” She nods, picks up her wine, and puts it down without taking a drink. “My stomach is acting up again. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” I say, hoping that is the only thing bothering her. “If you’re not feeling up for it, we can get our food to go. Maybe try again tomorrow when you’re feeling better?”

Her eyes widen for a second and her face turns slightly pale. A strange reaction, if it’s only her stomach that is bothering her right now.

“No, I’ll be okay. If I don’t feel like eating everything, I’ll take it with me.” It’s her turn to force a smile.

Something is definitely wrong. Her body language. The apprehensive look in her eyes. What happened? What did I do wrong? And why do I care? Maybe it’s because something inside of me just won’t let go—confusing, conflicting emotions that I thought went into the ground along with my wife.

“Did I do something to upset you, bambina ?” I question, tilting my head slightly. “You can tell me if I did. I’d just like to know so I can apologize properly.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, raising a brow.

“You seem different than you were earlier and I don’t think it’s just your stomach that is bothering you,” I sigh. “Be honest with me. Please.”

Lea looks down at her glass of wine and fidgets with the stem, turning it as she does. There’s definitely something. I can feel it. Why won’t she just tell me? Surely I haven’t done anything to offend or upset her since she walked into the restaurant.

“It’s nothing,” Lea says, and I can tell it’s a lie. “I just don’t feel well, like I said.”

“Okay,” I relent, leaning back in my chair.

Maybe I should just let this go. Forget all about the gorgeous girl sitting across from me. That would be the smart thing to do. I’ve got too much on mind for this to begin with. Trying to go on a date when my brother just put a price on my head? When there’s a hitman somewhere on this island, planning to put a bullet through my skull before I ever make it back to the mainland?

But this is the only place I want to be right now.