Page 7 of Lost Room Lawyer (Room #4)

“Nicola,” she growled in her Italian way, giving me a stern look. “Stop talking about yourself like that. You’re intelligent because you know how to use your ability. That’s not something to take for granted.”

I sighed and started eating. But Hector was still on my mind. “Do you know Hector Lando?” I asked tentatively.

“I’ve never met him, but of course, I asked Leo about him. I wanted to know who my son is doing his internship with. I heard he’s a top lawyer, married with two kids.”

She paused briefly to set down her fork and secure her black curls with a clip before resuming her meal. I smiled, knowing she often only noticed later how her hair got in the way while eating.

It suddenly struck me that she was only two years older than Hector. In fact, she was just eighteen when I was born. That led me to think that Hector was quite old enough to be my father—theoretically speaking.

The thought made me groan silently, and yet my memories drifted back to last Friday when Hector had his way with me in that bathroom. My cock twitched, causing me to press my lips together.

It had been like this all day. When Hector opened the door between our offices in the afternoon, and I only had to lean slightly forward to see him at his desk, I quickly retreated to the archive. I had to exert all my self-control not to give in to my urges, and now I was worked up.

“Is everything okay?” my mother asked, concerned.

“Yes… everything’s fine,” I murmured.

She informed me about her upcoming exhibition, which she was planning with another renowned stone sculptor, and mentioned that she would be returning to Tessin, a southern canton in Switzerland, in the summer to teach a beginner’s course at the Scuola di Scultura.

“Let me know if I can help with the exhibition.”

“Oh, that’s not until September, but thanks, I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

I carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen while she loaded them into the dishwasher. With a glass of water, I sat back at the table and flipped through some of the art magazines lying around.

“And how was the poker tournament?” she suddenly asked. “That was last Friday, right?”

“Yes, that’s right. It… was good.”

“Did you win?”

“No.”

“Why not? With your memory, it should be a piece of cake.”

“Not with poker, Ma.” I chuckled and leaned back in my seat.

She returned to the table with a cup of coffee. “Come on!” she exclaimed out of nowhere. “I can tell from the tip of your nose that something happened in the last few days. Spill it already! This is unbearable!”

I grew unnervingly serious and even dug my nails into the back of my neck. Although I couldn’t control the urge, the sharp pain gave me a fleeting sense of control.

“See?!” she said, pointing at my mouth. “Dimmi tutto!”

For a while, I just stared at her. She looked as young as Hector.

When she had once come over to my place and Dominic had seen her, he had also guessed her to be in her mid-thirties.

Now she was gazing at me with the same intensity that Hector had, but instead of making me feel hot, a cold shiver coursed through me, causing me to shudder.

“Well then,” I said finally. I could get this off my chest here and now. Better sooner than later, because she would find out eventually. She always did. “But you keep it to yourself.”

“Of course.”

“Okay… I met someone there, and we had a bit of fun together.”

“That’s nothing new,” she said, slightly disappointed, taking a sip of her coffee.

“It was Hector Lando.”

Now I definitely had her attention.

“Excuse me?” She looked up in shock. “Why would you do something like that with your future boss?”

“I didn’t know he was my future boss.”

“Hadn’t you met before?”

“Dad organized the internship at such short notice that we didn't have time to meet.”

“What’s Google for, for heaven’s sake, Nicola! Didn’t you talk to each other? You were sitting at the same table, playing poker.”

I rolled my eyes, closed them for a moment, and took a deep breath. “Different names were used,” I justified.

“But… The man is old!”

“Younger than you,” I muttered.

“Married! With two kids!”

I raised my eyebrows knowingly and nodded.

“The poor woman.”

Now I was alert. “The poor woman? What about me? I stood in his office today and felt like the biggest idiot!”

“Well… you got yourself into this mess.”

She did a good job of hiding her grin, but not perfectly.

“You think this is funny?”

“Of course! God finally took his time to punish you.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “This is a nightmare.”

“So, how is Lando?” She sounded like a teenager. “There must be something about him that you two…”

“He’s hot,” I admitted, rubbing my face with both hands as if trying to wake up from this nightmare. “Shit! This can’t be real.”

“Look on the bright side. At least you have the chance to work with a good-looking man. I spend most of my days in a studio with old women.”

“Yeah,” I replied cynically, getting up from my chair. “Lucky me.” I grabbed my jacket from the coat rack and went back to the kitchen when I saw my mother slightly bending over the sink, holding her head.

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment for her to straighten up and give a slight nod. “Yes. I’m fine. Just another dizzy spell.”

“Another one?”

“I’ve had them from time to time lately. But they usually pass quickly.” She put her cup in the dishwasher and smiled at me. “All good.”

“Are you sure?” I asked suspiciously. “Maybe you should have it checked out.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

I knew I needed to remind her and made a mental note. She would likely be absorbed in her art, which was one of the reasons I came by at least twice a week.

But I enjoyed the time with her. While my father, Leonard, the lawyer, dealt with rules and laws every day and had even steered me onto that path, she had never grown tired of reminding me that art was always an option; and for that, despite my writer’s block, I was incredibly grateful.

“Have a nice evening,” she said, walking me to the door.

“You too,” I said, bidding her farewell. “Talk to you soon.”