When I put my arms around him, he hugs me back.
“I don’t want to go, Alessandro,” I whisper.
His arms only get tighter, but he doesn’t respond.
* * *
I move as slowly as I can, dressing in my old jeans and hoodie. Alessandro tells me to take whatever clothes I want with me, but I can’t bring myself to do it, taking only what I came here with.
I want to leave a reminder of my presence.
We’ve reached the landing above the foyer when I make one last attempt, catching him by the hand and making him turn to look at me.
“If you want me to go, then I’ll go,” I tell him slowly. “I’ll do what you command, Don Castellani. But I don’twantto. Please. If you let me stay, I…” I can’t think of anything I have to offer him, so I trail off. I squeeze at his hand. “Please?”
Alessandro can’t quite look at me, his gaze slightly off to one side. His hand squeezes back at mine.
“Teddy, I…” he sighs, and I steel myself for it: the final rejection. He hesitates a moment more, and then seems to make up his mind. “If you want something,tesoro mio, I don’t have the heart to deny you. So…yes. You may stay.”
I can hardly believe my ears. “You mean it?”
He smiles down at me. “Yes, little mouse, I mean it.”
I let my bag drop and leap at him, throwing my arms around his neck in joy, and he sweeps me up into his arms, letting me wrap my legs around his waist. “You really mean it,” I mumble into his neck, hugging him just as hard as he’s embracing me.
I was right. Hedoeswant me.
Maybe even cares about me?
But then we hear the noise of heels clacking along tile from the foyer downstairs. Alessandro stifles a curse and sets me down, only to push me behind him. We both freeze as a dark-haired woman comes into view below us in the foyer.
She looks up instantly, as though she senses our presence. I’ve never seen her before—a beautiful, dark-haired woman with intense features—but I know who she is at once. She has Alessandro’s eyes.
Or rather, he has hers.
“Sandro!” she calls up. She continues on in Italian, and I can’t make out any of the words, but it sounds like a question.
Alessandro replies more slowly, and I catch my name:Teddy. He mutters to me in English, “Be careful.” We descend the stairs as she waits, a smile on her red lips but a strange light in her eyes, and although Alessandro tries to keep me behind him, she holds out a hand to me.
It would be very rude not to take it. “Hello!” I say awkwardly.
“Mamma, this is Teddy. Teddy, this is…my mother.”
“What a delightful little treat you are,” she says to me in English. “Or are you a trick?”
“Mamma!” Alessandro glares at her, but she widens her eyes innocently.
“Is that not what the Americans say? Trick or treat?”
“Only at Halloween, ma’am,” I supply.
Alessandro snaps something in Italian at her before turning to me. “I must ask you to forgive my mother’s rudeness.”
She gives a laugh, pulling me further toward her as she looks me up and down critically. “I certainly don’t mean to be rude. You’re a well-made little thing, aren’t you? Quite lovely. I see now why you’ve been ignoring my phone calls, Alessandro. I was nearby and decided to call in—we have much to discuss—but I see you’re busy. I’ll come for dinner instead.”
“Mamma—”
She ignores him completely. “And will you be joining us for dinner tonight, Teddy?”
