“I wasn't the one breaking people's noses and then wanting to have sex after in a Spanish alleyway,” he reminded me.
“Give it time. It’s still early in this trip.”
He gave me a true laugh, one that made me feel hotter than the solid summer air. He sighed. “You really think I have multiple personalities.”
“Would it make you feel better if I say I love them all?”
“No, I’d be jealous that you love them too.”
I smiled.
Quiet settled. The only proof that life continued around us was from the party and the movement of water. I gazed down at it, outlines in motion, and then moved to the stars above—so still and peaceful.
I loved discovering the different perfumes of all the different places I had been. They were as unique as a snowflake, the scent of a person, or the rise and fall of the sun. The stars seemed to say constant, though, even if obscured by the city.
Celestial bodies were plentiful here, entranced by the sea below. And I wondered if there was a relationship there, between the sea and the stars, and if so, how was it? Romantic? Platonic? Maternal? The moon had more pull, I knew, and then I laughed at my lame attempt at a joke inside of my own head. I was kind of a nerd.
“Tell me what caused the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” His voice came out warm and smooth, almost relaxed, but not totally.
I told him what had caused it.
“Baby.” He shook his head, and I felt his grin against my skin. “Your mind is fascinating.”
I pinched him.
We didn’t speak after that for a while, both of us lost to our own thoughts. Then Maggie Beautiful came to mind and I had to ask. “You gave them your blessing?”
It took him a minute or two to answer. While I waited, I settled deeper into the night. The air was impregnated with brine, so salty I could taste it on my tongue. The sea whispered in the background, the warm air surfing its waves, rising up the villa to caress our skin in languid strokes. The lemon trees rustled in the wind, sharing secrets with the sea below.
Brando moved, shifted behind me, and then cleared his throat. “Yeah, I did. It was for his benefit. She’s never asked for my blessing for anything in her life. She seems to be happy enough, though, and he knows the stakes.”
“Stakes?”
“Luca,” was the answer to that. He got quiet again, his mood starting to turn the color of the water. Dark.
I grasped his hands tighter. “Maggie Beautiful makes her own happy, like she made her own name. Maybe good will come of this. You might get a new brother or sister.”
“Impossible.”
“What do you mean?”
“I ruined her, Scarlett. She was too young and I was too big. She can’t have more children.”
“Oh.” I had no idea. She never confided that in me.
“Besides, ‘Berto’ isn’t the kind of man who wants children. He likes them, enjoys being around them, but when it’s time for them to go home, he gets the pipe and sherry out.”
I smiled at that. It was true. Those two were polar opposites. Maggie Beautiful was a sexual being. There was really no other way to describe her. And ‘Berto,’ as she had been calling him, was more intellectual. Perhaps they had found a gateway to both worlds through each other.
“You missed my meaning earlier,” Brando said, directing us back. “Luca finds out about this, which he will, Aberto won’t have to worry about if his heart has the capability of stretching. Luca will take it out of his chest.”
“Oh,” I breathed out. I didn’t want to face that reality, so I changed the subject—in one way. “Do you think Luca has more surprises out there? Kids, I mean.”
“No. He knew what he was doing with my brothers. I was the mistake.”
Lifting my legs, I forced him to move when I turned to face him, and then took him by the shirt and made him look at me.
“Don’t you ever say that to me again. No child is a mistake, least of all you. Without you, I’d—”
