Music floated throughout the house, the sounds of laughter and voices mixing, swaying down from upstairs. Scarlett sat in a chair in our room, a team of people around her—one doter was on the floor, attending to her feet, another painted her nails, one fluffed her hair, and the fourth waved a fat brush at her face.
If this had been a kiddie movie, she’d be the princess and they would be the singing animals of the forest.
Scarlett’s eyes were closed, listening to them chatter while they worked. She was in nothing but a pink silk robe and a few diamond bangles I had given her as gifts. The light around her made her three wedding rings glimmer.
Guido stood with his back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes concentrating on the proceedings. He was the guard in the room.
“I am hypnotized by all of this.” He nodded toward Scarlett. “It would seem relaxing to have done.”
“You can try it.” I grinned at him.
“No, only in theory.” He laughed. “But I do not mind getting my hair washed. I pay extra for it. I enjoy having my scalp scratched.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Stay with my wife for a while longer. I’m going to hop in the shower.”
“Your suit is in the closet,” Scarlett said, eyes on me. “Hanging up in a garment bag.”
The team around her scattered as I approached. I kissed her forehead, not wanting to disturb all of the paint. She was as flawless as a diamond—even without all of the fluff.
“How did it go?” she asked. “You were gone most of the day.”
“A bloater. You don’t want details.”
She scrunched up her nose and didn’t prod further. Instead, she watched me with eyes that seemed directly connected to her thoughts.
Our conversation from earlier was not finished.
I had something on my mind, and so did she, but neither one of us was breaking first. She might win stare contests—she had eyes sharp enough to break glass—but I could hold on to information longer.
Besides, I didn’t want to ruin her night. Accustomed to these ritzy events as she was, she had started to mind them more. The older she got, the more determined not to go she became. But with her ever-rising fame, events seemed inevitable. To give her the rush of information beforehand would only make matters worse.
“Ten minutes, Fausti,” she said.
“I’ll be out in five.”
True to my word, I had showered, shaved, slicked back my hair and set it into place, and dressed in less time than it took to paint one of her nails. Returning to our room, I saw that the hand and feet doters were gone, but hair and face were still at it.
“I do not understand.” Guido gave me a puzzled look. “She is a natural beauty. She does not needthismuch attention.”
“I’ve got it from here, Guido.”
He nodded and then left the room.
The change in atmosphere almost shocked me. I had felt it when I first walked in, a crackle that came close, but now it engulfed me. Scarlett said nothing, but she didn’t have to. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were wet, close to tears. A sad song played on the stereo.
Hair and makeup stopped what they were doing, staring at me. Scarlett glanced at them and then at me.
“Time’s up,” I said to the women around her. “Get out.” I didn’t like the way her eyes seemed heavy, her strength thin. I didn't like the feelings she was sending me.
The two women glanced at each other.
“But we—we still have to help her into her gown,” one of them said.
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s all me.”
Scarlett bristled at my rudeness, giving me a glare to communicate her displeasure with my brutish attitude.
Scarlett could be the epitome of grace. On her deathbed, she'd be polite to the murderer who put her there, not wanting to offend. I’d slit his throat before my last breath.
