“No, I guess you’re right,” Joan said, smiling gratefully at Raul for all his help.
She sat back and let him talk, though she wasn’t listening.
Her mind was on Antonio, trying to understand what was going on with him. Maybe she could ask Julio tomorrow during the rehearsal dinner.
As the car stopped in front of the Torres home, Raul turned to her. “Thanks again for everything Joan, it means so much to me. I’ll text you the names of those two people I was telling about, that very much want to come to the wedding. Will you be sure they’re added to the list, like you added me?”
Joan blinked. What two people? When had she agreed to that?
She was about to ask him, but his face was lit up like a puppy dog about to get his first treat. He looked too thrilled to disappoint.
“Oh, sure. Text me their names I’ll be sure and add them to my personal invitation list. Good night, Raul.”
He reached over - for a moment Joan feared he was going to try and kiss her - and hugged her. “Thank you so much!”
She stepped out of his car. “You’re a funny duck,” she said to herself as drove away. She’d worried he might try to hit on her, but he’d done nothing of the sort. She felt guilty for pegging him initially as a thirteenth stepper. Maybe it was just the salesman personality. Whatever the case, she was glad she was helping him meet Julio, and that he’d be at the wedding in case Antonio dared to show up.
After letting herself into the house Joan went to the kitchen and had some limonada and one of Aunt Sophia’s pastissets, Catalan powdered cookies, and a staple in the Torres household. Joan would have to get the recipe before she left Spain. She downed the last of her limonada, then licked off the powder sugar from her fingertip. She tidied up the kitchen, then went down the hall and stopped outside the door of the nursery.
She opened the door to the darkened room with care, so as not to disturb the babies. She closed her eyes and let the sound of the three snoring babies wash over her. Her heart filled with love for each of them, and she was reminded again how hard it was going to be to leave them. She wiped a tear, closed the door gently shut, then returned to her room to complete her nightly ablutions.
She put her phone on the charger at the other side of her room, turned out the light and had just gotten her pillow patted down the way she liked it when she heard the tone of a text message coming in.
It would just be the names of Raul’s extra two guests.
She rolled away from the phone and closed her eyes.
She could deal with that in the morning.
Chapter Fourteen
ANTONIO FERRARO WOKE to the sound of banging at his door.
“Una momento,” he said, pulling himself out of bed and wrapping a sheet around his naked body. “I’m coming, who is it?”
Bruno, Julio’s head of security, was at the door holding a breakfast tray.
“You need to get dressed.” He said, coming in. “The royal family’s security has arrived and they will be coming out here soon to talk to you.”
“Huh?”
“Just get dressed.”
“What am I supposed to say when they see my face?”
“You were mugged, no? Just tell them what happened.”
Antonio walked over to the side table where Bruno had set down his tray and helped himself to a bite of toast, then poured himself a cup of coffee and drank a quick sip.
His body ached. He looked around for the pain pills.
“Sir, they could arrive any minute. Please dress and then you can have your breakfast,” Bruno said, placing a rolled-up newspaper on the tray.
Antonio wanted to open the newspaper, but he didn’t want to piss off Bruno so, he went over to his luggage. It must have arrived while he’d slept. He quickly pulled out some easy to put on clothes - sweat pants and a t-shirt.
He managed to dress despite the pain in his body and was just about to open up the newspaper when he heard tires crunching on the gravel outside, then footsteps and men’s voices.
He found the pain pills as he made a fast job of making his bed just before the knock came at his door.
“Yes?” he asked, innocently.
“Sir, security for his royal eminence Ferdinand de la Vega, Viscount of Iberia. May we have a word please?”
“Certainly,” Antonio said, opening the door. “Come in, gentlemen, come in.”
The two men in the doorway had the demeanor of private security - serious expressions, stiff backs and short cropped hair.
“What can I do for your gentlemen?” Antonio asked.
“First of all, can you tell us why you are here?”
“I’m Julio Torres’s godson, he invited me to the wedding.”
They raised eyebrows, at each other, then the taller man said with a smirk on his face, “Aren’t you a little old to be a godson to Julio?”
“Julio’s father was originally my original godfather and when he passed away Julio, in his infinite belief in the power of Catholicism, decided that I couldn’t be orphaned in the godfather department – so he stepped up for the job.”
“So, you don’t know your godfather very well?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I mean, we hung out a lot as kids and later before we went our separate ways.”
“You play professional soccer?” the smaller guard asked.
“Yes. I’m on a leave of absence, but I do expect to be back on the field soon.”
“Leave of absence?”
“It’s complicated,” Antonio said, not wanting to get into it. No one knew about why he’d been temporarily kicked off the field. The press, the media, and the sporting news all thought it had something to do with an injury, or perhaps a morals violation. No one other than the head of the team himself knew it was because he’d been caught doing sports betting – a serious violation.
“Enlighten us,” said the man.
“Look, gentlemen, I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Antonio said as he rose from his seat.
“We can make it our business,” said the larger of guards, threateningly.
The smaller guard held back his colleague.
Antonio was tired of being pushed around.
“You know what, gentlemen? I’d like to take a shower and than take a walk. Please leave.”
“But, sir-”
“I don’t understand why I’m being bothered with your intrusive questions. I’m a guest of this wedding and I’m entitled to my privacy. If you want to check my room for guns or bombs, be my guest, but keep your nosy questions to yourself.”
The first guard nodded to the second, and to Antonio’s discomfort, the man began to search his room. Now he was glad Vince had stolen his money - there was nothing incriminating among his personal possessions.
After a quick search, the taller royal guard seemed satisfied.
The smaller guard wasn’t done yet. He’d picked up the newspaper and was comparing the paper to Antonio.
“According to this you were picked up at the casino looking like this. Who did this to you? Isn’t there some rule about soccer players not gambling?”
“We just can’t do sports betting. Poker and table games in legit casinos are not a problem at all,” Antonio said.
“So, who did this to you?”
“I don’t know. I got mugged shortly after arriving at the casino.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No, I didn’t call the police. It wasn’t that bad, and besides what would they do? Chase after the mugger?”
“That mugger did a pretty thorough job on you. Seems like overkill just to steal your money.”
“Maybe he was a real Madrid fan,” Antonio said sardonically. “I don’t know, I was too busy getting the shit beat out of me to inquire.”
The two guards laughed, and the tension eased.
“Very good, sir, we’re sorry to have put you to any trouble,” said the shorter guard.
He handed over a card. “If you think that t
his mugger poses any further threat to you, or you decide you can tell us who it was, give me a call. If you’re in danger while you’re here, that puts him in danger so don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’ll make sure that our security knows who to watch out for.”
Antonio thought immediately of giving him two names - Dante Bissacco and Carlo Minetti - but he was afraid if he mentioned men who might be connected to the Italian Mob they’d make sure he was tossed out on his ass. After the men left he went back to his breakfast, nibbling on his cold eggs and finally opening the newspaper. He found himself staring at his own battered face.