“Alright, alright, Mamma,” Alessandro snaps. “You’ve made your point. But…” He looks at me.
“I’m fine,” I say, and I try to give my brightest smile.
“You go and shower,” Alessandro’s mother tells him, “and I’ll stay here with Teddy and make him a coffee. He looks as though he needs one. And really, Sandro, those Redwood guardsdoneed to be taught some manners. But off you go.” And then she scoots him physically with her hands out of the room.
Once she’s shepherded him out, she turns back to me and bestows that lovely smile on me, the same smile I’ve seen once or twice on Alessandro’s face, except his was restricted by his scar. “Now you and I can really get to know each other,” she says, heading to the kitchen, where she begins to make coffee on the complex coffee machine. I come over and sit up on one of the stools at the counter and she glances over her shoulder at me. “What is this trouble that you’ve been having this morning?”
She’s warm and lovely and comforting, sure. But I don’t have permission from Don Castellani to talk about what happened this morning. Without that, I’m going to keep my lips tight. “I can’t say,” I hedge.
“Mamma,” says a voice from behind me. Alessandro has stuck his head back into the room, a warning stare at his mother. “Don’t try to get information out of Teddy. He’s loyal tome. But in this case, if Teddy wants to talk to you about it, that’s up to him.” He gives me a quick wink and then withdraws again.
With Alessandro’s permission now, the story comes flooding out of me, and I even cry a little more, as I drink the hot, sweet coffee that she serves me. We sit at one corner of the kitchen counter, and Alessandro takes a long time in the shower, but I’m kind of glad. His mom is easy to talk to, her sympathy and sorrow clear on her expressive face.
“Teddy,” she says softly, when I finally fall silent. “I can’t know what your mother was thinking, or why she’s done these things. But—I understand how much it can hurt to be a mother. How much sacrifice it demands. There isnothingI would not do for Sandro. But he and I have come to a point where he doesn’t want his Mamma anymore. No,” she says with a smile, as I try to protest, “I always knew this day would come. Ithadto come, as painful as it is for me. But now here we are, the two of us. I have lost a son, and you have lost a mother. Perhaps we can find replacements in each other?”
She reaches out her hand across the countertop, and I take it.
“I’d like that,” I whisper. And for the first time today, I smile.
“There you are,” she says warmly. “That is the smile I want to see tonight, with Don Morelli and his husband. You are a jewel, a sapphire set in gold, and I want you to dazzle tonight. Can you do that for me? For Alessandro?”
“Of course!” I give her my brightest, best smile.
She nods in approval. “Eccellente.” She leans over to give me another hug, then hops off the stool and picks up her clutch handbag from the countertop. “I’m sure my ungrateful son has finished his shower by now. Say goodbye to him for me, will you? Tell him I’ll see him—and you—at Redwood Manor at five o’clock. And thosestronziat the gates had better let me in when I arrive.” She kisses me on each cheek and then leaves with a “Ciao!”
Alessandro appears in the doorway to his bedroom as soon as the elevator begins its descent. “Wait until she finds out Julian is out of the cells,” he says to me, amusement tugging at his mouth.
I laugh, but it dies quickly. “Alessandro…do you think Craig Barbieri killed your father, too? I mean, I don’t see how—”
“No,” he says softly. “I know who killed Papa. Come and have a bath,topolino, let me wash you down, and tell you what I think happened. Perhaps you will see better than me what needs to be done about it—because I’m not at all sure what to do.”
CHAPTER53
SANDRO
Talkingthings over with Teddy makes things clearer in my mind, but by the time I have washed him thoroughly, it’s time to get back to Redwood Manor to prepare and dress for the dinner. We arrive just at the right time, my mother’s car pulling up behind mine, and I tell the guards to let her through this time. “Who kept her out this morning?” I ask Pedretti, who has been assigned to the gate today.
His face goes grim. “Me, Boss. It was me.”
“Well done. Come and talk to me tomorrow about a promotion.”
He gives a return, surprised, “Thanks, Boss.”
“‘Boss,’” Teddy says, as we continue up the long driveway. “It suits you.” He smiles when I glance over. “Tonight’s important, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say. “It is important. But no matter what happens,topolino, I’m happy just to have you with me.”
He runs a hand through my hair as we pull up in front of the doors. “Yes,” he says. “But still. Tonight is important. Will you show me what to wear?”
I catch his hand in mine and press it to my lips. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
* * *
I think I can safely say that Teddy MacCallum is the most gorgeous man—or woman—at the dinner tonight. Perhaps I am biased, but in a classic black tux, he turns heads everywhere he steps.
Even Luciano D’Amato, the Morelli Don, seems impressed. “Armani,” he notes approvingly, as we stand around in the grand salon with our cocktails. He is wearing Armani himself.
“Alessandro has wonderful taste,” Teddy says shyly, and I could kiss him.
