Vincenzo almost laughed. “Livio.”
I had almost killed him after I found out that he had put his hands on my wife while she was in Spataro’s custody. But I spared his life because he had saved her life, to a certain degree.
The hands of men who claimed to be family had taken his wife’s life. He hadn’t been right in the mind, heart, or soul ever since.
“Also, I have checked on the woman from the street—her man is the French. She is doing well,” Vincenzo said.
Two knocks and the door opened, a surge of fresh winter air coming in with it. Nino and the blonde entered, but before he introduced her, memory served me right. Her voice rose high, pure French mixed with growls.
It would take a knock to the head to forget that voice.
I stood, leaving my food on the counter. She stopped when I met her at the door, looking up at me with bright eyes.
“Cerise,” I said.
She had been a young girl the last time Scarlett and I had met her in Paris. Cerise was a ballerina who, at the time, struggled to get her moves right. Scarlett took her under her wing and helped her. Her advice and example paid off. The last Scarlett had heard, Cerise was a principal dancer in Paris, anÉtoile. She had always had a growl about her voice, so contrary to the fine features of her face and her slim build.
“Beast! You rrrremember me.”
I nodded once, attempting to keep the excitement to a minimum. The more excited she became, the grizzlier the growl was.
“Brando,” Nino said, his furry eyebrows lowering, giving him a fiercer look. Most of the men called him Oscar the Grouch. “Thedonnahere has run into Livio.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Cerise said something in French—something dismissive, from the sounds of it. “We argued! I do not even know where the hostility came from.”
“Hostility” sounded a lot likehostilitie.
“Did he hurt you?”
“Non!” she breathed. “We had a casual argument.”
“Casual argument,” I repeated.
“He warned me from entering the house of Fausti. I told him he was ridiculous! He called me a pigheaded woman. I tell him it takes a pig head to know a pig head. He did not like this.” She waved a hand, disregarding what Livio evidently liked or not. “Ah, is he available?”
“Available?” Nino examined her as if she were some kind of new specimen.
“Oui. Available.”
“You want to date him?” Nino almost spat out.
Cerise shrugged. “Possible. I like fire. Also. He has nice buns.” She giggled.
I coughed, and Cerise and Nino turned to face me.
“Scarlett,” I reminded her. “You came to see her.”
“Oui.” Cerise smiled. “I have only a little time now. But I will come back when I have more. This, this mix-up took too long! Grrrr. Tomorrow?”
“Evenings are better,” I said.
Surprising me, she flung her arms around my arms, hugging me tight, while she made noises that reminded me of a starved grizzly bear about to tear into fish. I had to blow fluffs of her hair out of my mouth. I patted her head, trying to tame down the wild pieces.
“Au revoir,” she said, twirling her wrist in the air as she left.
Nino turned to me, his face not hiding the shock. “Livio?”
