“I know,” I said with a little snicker.
“In any case, I’m going to recommend we file for a restraining order against your father. Should he seek to retaliate in the future, having legal documentation will help.”
“Okay,” Matteo said. “You do that. But you said you could find her a place to stay in the meantime?”
“Yes. To be clear, I work for you, not her.”
“And I’m asking you to do this for me. If it will be easier for you, you can recommend her a divorce attorney, if that’s what she wants to do.” He sucked in a big gulp of air. “We talked. I explained to her that I can’t just forget about everything that’s happened, but we can work on our relationship. It has to be on my terms, however and she has to make amends.”
I massaged Matteo’s shoulder and he leaned into me. I said, “It’s going to take time.”
“Which is why she needs a place to stay. She always had to ask for money from my father, so she probably has nothing except for what she came here with.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Mr. Salvatore said simply and finished off his tea.
I accepted the mug and set it in the sink.
Matteo spoke up before he could leave. “Mr. Salvatore, I’m worried about her. You know my father. He will see this as a betrayal and do everything in his power to destroy her.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, and I imagined his job was stressful. “Is she ready?”
We all made our way to the living room where she was still sitting on the sheet-covered couch. Matteo started talking in French and I watched the emotions play on her face. She seemed disappointed but nodded and rose to her feet. They lingered at the door for a while and Matteo made the first move, hugging her tightly. She broke, her tears flowing, sobs falling from her lips.
“It’s going to be okay, Mama,” he said, his tone raw with his own sobs. “Mr. Salvatore will find you a place to stay, somewhere where Papa can’t find you. You have my new number. We will talk some more, okay?”
She patted his cheek and dabbed at her tears with her napkin. She left without another word. When it was just Matteo and I, he fell into my arms, and I held him for a long time. I guided him to my lips, planting several tender, cherishing kisses. We were each other's rocks.
“I want to go out tonight,” he said. “I want to drink and dance with you. I need the distraction. Besides, you can’t use the excuse that I’m underage anymore.”
And we did. He’d dressed in a cropped shirt and tight jeans, and we shimmied unabashedly on the dance floor with dozens of sweaty bodies moving to the music around us.
I might have helped him reconnect with his music, but he’d shown me how to dance again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MATTEO
July
My heart was pounding, sending the blood pulsing in my ears and my mouth was like cotton as I waited backstage for the young woman to finish playing cello.
“Here,” Sean said, offering me a water bottle.
I accepted and drank liberally. I liked that he knew what I needed, sometimes better than I did. He was the E to my F note, my life made more colorful and richer by his existence. He ran his palm in a circle on my back, his heat soaking through my Valentino dress shirt. I’d always been comfortable in finery, but I was fidgety and itchy from nerves.
“You’re going to be great,” he murmured against my ear as the girl's piece entered its climax.
I was unlucky and assigned to play my piece second from last, so I got to watch all the applicants play. They were all very good and deserved a spot in the concerto. Compounding the situation was that only one pianist position was available, so my competition was fierce.
“I know. I’ve practiced for months and my rendition of “Un Sospiro” is as good as it’s going to get, but…”
“But?”
I shook my head. “It’s as if my entire life hinges on this moment. If I don’t get in, I can kiss my dreams of studying at Curtis goodbye. And if I do get in and I’m accepted—Curtis is in Pennsylvania.”
“I told you. I’ll never hold you back from your music.”
“I know but, I just…”
