“Grazie,” I said, and he winced at the way I’d said it. I had a heavy New York accent, and maybe that made a difference, maybe not, but I always botched foreign pronunciations. I wasn’t all that great with rolling the letters I was supposed to. When I tried, it didn’t sound natural. It sounded like I was trying too hard.
I grabbed a plate off the counter and took twocornetti—in my head I sounded more like Beni—and then made myself a cappuccino. I took a seat across from him and we stared at each other as we ate.
“Ientaculum,” he said.
“What’s…ientaculum?”
“The ancient Romans used to eat three meals a day. The first was called ientaculum. Breakfast.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting enough to make it into one of your articles?”
A beat passed between us.
“What did I ever do to you?” I asked as I licked the hazelnut spread off my fingers. I didn’t have a problem clearing the air. Most people thought I was too forward, or didn’t have a filter, but it was so much easier to just knock whatever out the way and get on with it—depending on the person. Edna had taught me to always read my audience before speaking to them.
He sighed and set hiscornettodown. “You are sneaky.”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. “I have to be. Some people refuse to tell me things.”
“How about…” He tapped his chin. “It is because those things you are fishing for are private.”
“True. It’s not always a pretty job.”
“Why do it?”
“Do you ever kill birds with that plane of yours? Or do you ever think about the pollution you’re putting out when you’re flying those rich people around in your fancy planes?”
“I concede your point about the birds. Cannot be helped.”
I nodded to him. “Thank you.”
We ate in silence for another minute or two.
He cleared his throat. “It is not that I do not like you. I do not trust you yet.”
“Fair enough.”
Our eyes met from across the table when Naz came in, then we looked down at our food. He’d changed into a plain white T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. What he hadn’t lost, though, was the dark mood.
He made himself a cup of cappuccino and stood with his back pressed against the counter.
“Do not watch me while I eat,cugino,” Beni said. “You know how it makes me feel. I am not a grazer animal in a pasture being stalked by a preachy predator. If you want to eat—mangiare.”
“I am not watching you,” Naz said, and it was the first time I’d ever heard him get testy with his cousin.
Beni turned some and squinted at him. Then he looked at me. I looked at Naz.
He was watching me.
I didn’t care if he wanted to watch me eat. We all had kinks. I even licked my fingers to make it worth his while. After I’d finished eating, though, and he hadn’t looked away, I wasn’t sure what the staring was all about. But it was intense, like he had something caught in the wheels of his mind and couldn’t dislodge it.
“Would it be possible to tour Rome today?” I asked. “I’ve always wanted to go. And you know that old saying? While in Rome…” I stood and went to take my plate to the counter.
Naz met me before I could get there and grabbed my wrists. All three pieces of porcelain fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. He backed me up against the counter and stared into my eyes. I breathed out, and his nostrils flared at the scent of my breath—orange marmalade. It was still sticky on my lips.
“Tell me,uccellino selvatico,who is the man in New York you leave behind.”
