“Looks riveting,” she says. I study her face. I think she’s being sarcastic, but I can’t be sure. “Seriously, it sounds really interesting. I was studying economics before I had to drop out to care for my nan. I’ll get back to it one day, though. Where are you studying?”
“Back home in Chicago. I’m just out here for a bit of a working vacation.”
“Really? What do you do?” she asks, sliding into the seat next to me.
“Just running some errands for a family friend. Nothing exciting.” I grin. “What about you? Apart from making a mean coffee, that is.”
“That’s about it. I’m pretty boring.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” I laugh.
“Would you wanna hang out sometime?” she blurts out. My eyes widen. I hadn’t been expecting that. She blushes, averting her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually ask guys out but you seem nice.”
“No, it’s fine. I’d love to go out with you,” I say. Mostly I just feel bad for her, but I also know this thing with Lucy is getting out of hand. I need to get her out of my head.
“Really?” She grins. She pulls a pen out of her pocket and scrawls her number down on her notepad. Pushing it across the table to me, she stands up. “I better get back to work. But it was nice to see you again—”
“Pietro,” I say, and smile.
“Pietro,” she repeats. I try not to laugh. The girl looks like she’s going to faint. “I’m Stefanni.” We chat for a little bit longer until her boss calls her back to work. Just as she walks away, my phone rings.
“Sorry, I was in a meeting. How’s it going?” he asks. “The apartment has everything you need, right.”
“It’s great, thanks.”
“And how’s Lucia?” he asks.
“Fine,” I say. I’m new to the world of spying, and though I don’t want to admit it to Giovanni, I really have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. Does he expect me to follow her twenty-four hours a day? It seems a bit excessive, especially considering Lucy is probably the most responsible, hardworking woman I know.
“Just fine?” he says, hinting that he wants more.
“She goes to the studio, she goes home. I’m sorry to inform you, Giovanni, but your daughter doesn’t have much of a life.” I laugh.
“You haven’t even been there a week. How would you know that?” he asks suspiciously. I wince. I couldn’t exactly tell him I knew from talking and texting with her so much.
“She’s a good girl, Giovanni. You have nothing to worry about.”
“And that’s how I want it to stay,” he growls. “Any boys or trouble come on the scene, it’s your job to get rid of them, okay? You’re my eyes and ears, Pietro. Do not let me down.”
I groan as he ends the call. This is way too much. I can’t help but wonder if this is really about making sure she’s safe. For me, that’s all I want, but Giovanni is so damn overprotective I’m convinced there is more to it than that. Does he expect me to scare away boyfriends? The worst thing is that’s something I’m happy to do because the thought of her with anyone else makes me feel sick. This whole thing is messed up.
—
I’m impressed as the taxi pulls up outside Benito’s home, and consider that maybe I’m getting into the wrong business. I make my way up the path that separates the neatly manicured garden into two sections. I glance around the neighborhood. The houses look identical, all perfectly kept, not a thing out of place.
Knocking on the door, I’m surprised at how nervous I feel about seeing my old friend again. He lived a few houses down from mine in our small village in the north of Sicily. We used to do everything together. His father and mine were distant cousins—which made us only very distant relations—but in our culture related was related.
The afternoon my parents were killed I was with Benito. It was his idea to stop off and buy comics. Not that I’d needed much convincing, but I can understand why he hadn’t been sure if I’d want to see him when he came over here. A few years ago? Maybe things would’ve still been too raw then. Now, enough time has passed that I’m happy at the prospect of being able to reconnect with a part of my past.
Benito answers the door, enveloping me in a bear hug. He laughs as he pats my back, mumbling something about not believing I’m here. Grinning, I pull away.
“Plenty of time to catch up. Are you going to introduce me to this lovely wife of yours?” I ask, nodding at the pretty blonde standing behind him. He pulls her into his embrace and kisses her forehead.
“This is Carrie. Carrie, this is one of my oldest friends, Pietro.”
“Lovely to meet you, Pietro. Benito tells me that you grew up in the same village? How nice.”
“We lived a few doors down from each other and we did everything together.” I smile. “You’ve found yourself a great man.” I hold out the bottle of wine I’m carrying, which she accepts graciously. I watch as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving Benito and me alone.