I get out in the middle of the street and rescue my bags from the trunk. I’m a little nervous about being spotted, but I know chances are slim, considering Lucy is at training. I glance up and down the street, my jaw twitching nervously.
My feet hit the pavement and I wa
lk, dodging around people, clutching my two massive suitcases. They’re hard to wrangle, but I somehow manage it, finding my new apartment building in about eight minutes.
I stand at the front and look around, trying to get my bearings. I can see the studio, and what must be Lucy’s apartment building. There are people everywhere and they don’t stop for anyone. I get more than one angry glare as people dodge my baggage. I take the hint and wander inside.
After collecting my key from the doorman, I make my way up to the top floor. Letting myself inside, I’m impressed at how nice this place is. It’s fully furnished, so I don’t need to buy anything. I instantly feel at home. The oversize sofa looks cozy and inviting, and the kitchen boasts state-of-the-art appliances—not that I plan on doing much cooking. I open the fridge and see that even that is fully stocked with all my favorite foods. Giovanni sure has gone out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable. Unfortunately, it doesn’t lessen the guilt I feel lying to Lucy.
I can’t believe I’m here.
I’m less than a few hundred yards away from Lucy, and she has no idea. That familiar feeling of guilt ripples through me. I sit down on the sofa and drag out my phone, going over our old texts. I’ve stepped over the boundaries. What was I thinking, flirting with her? The first few times it happened by accident, but when she reciprocated I knew exactly what I was doing. And then again today. It’s like I can’t fucking help myself. I check my phone again for a reply and see no unread messages. I hope I haven’t made things weird with my stupid comment, but something tells me I have.
You’re playing with fire, Pietro. Think about what you’re doing.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t pull away from her. And the tiny glimmer of hope that just maybe she feels something for me is enough for me not to trust myself. After unpacking and a shower, I call Giovanni again.
“You arrived,” he says, sounding pleased. “Have you seen her yet?”
“No, I’m just at my apartment. She’d be training now, anyway,” I point out.
“Good, good,” he says. “I want you to call me to check in every day, okay?”
“Sure,” I reply, still getting my head around the idea of spying on her. “Are you still tracking her phone?” I ask carefully. The thought just hits me; if he’s tracked her phone in the past, how much further will he go? Is Lucy right?
Is he listening to her calls and reading her texts and emails? What about cameras? I glance around the living room, a feeling of unease washing over me. Calm down. He has no reason to have bugged this place. Lucy’s, however, I’m not so sure about.
“It’s for her own safety, and my piece of mind,” he growls defensively.
“Is that as far as you will go?” I press.
Maybe Lucy was right to be suspicious.
“What is that supposed to mean, Pietro? Are you asking me if I invade my daughter’s privacy? Surely you know that even I have boundaries. I’d never step over the line like that. And if I did, why would I need you there?”
He has a point, though the idea of Giovanni knowing any boundaries makes me want to laugh.
“Okay, well, I better go. You can get me anytime on my cell. Try to have some trust in her, okay?”
He grumbles in response. Hanging up, I head back outside. I need to learn my surroundings. If I’m going to keep an eye on her without blowing my cover, I need places to be able to do that from.
I walk up and down the street, stopping just short of the studio. I’m not game enough to venture past. It would be just my luck that she’d glance out the window at just the right time and see me.
I find myself standing inside a small coffee shop near our apartments. Unless she’s changed in the last week, I know Lucy avoids coffee, so I decide this is a good place to start.
The waitress takes my order, and I choose a table by the far back wall, right next to the men’s restroom. I need an escape just on the off chance she does come in. From where I sit, I can see the studios clearly. There is no way she could leave and me not see her.
“A coffee and French toast?”
“Thanks,” I say, pushing my laptop aside. The pretty brunette waitress places my food in front of me. She nods, and then walks back to the kitchen.
After I’ve had my breakfast, I spend the next few hours working on my master’s thesis. I get so engrossed in what I’m doing that I forget why I’m here in the first place. She could’ve easily wandered over here and caught me. I need to be more careful.
“Can I get you another coffee?”
I look up and into the eyes of my waitress. Her cheeks tinge pink and I realize I’m staring.
“Please.” I nod. “And also a ham and cheese sandwich?”