"You don't have to apologize for, uh, for that," I say awkwardly. We half-smile at each other, and I clear my throat. "The Boss also assigned me to keep watch on you," I add. "So, like I said…how can I help?"
I half expect him to brush me off, and I already have a speech prepared. But all Darian says is, "Perhaps you could help me polish the silverware in the kitchen. I like to make sure it's doneright."
I'd polish any damn thing he asked me to. But for now, I'll settle for knives and forks.
CHAPTER 14
DARIAN
I wishI'd been a little more enthusiastic when I kissed Raffi earlier.
He seems to think I hate him now, even though I do my best to smile at him and make conversation. He seems ashamed of himself, and there's no reason to be. I'm the one who initiated it, after all.
It's a little awkward at first, sitting there shining up the silverware for the formal dinner tonight, but the mood is broken by Chef Laurent, of all people, shouting at the kitchen staff and storming around looking for his knife. "Who has it?" he demands. "Who has taken my best knife to use for themselves? How is an artist supposed to create without his tools?"
Raffi's eyebrows go up. "Should I, like, be worried about that?"
"Oh, he's always putting them down somewhere and forgetting about them," I say dismissively, and add in an undertone, "He just likes to make a fuss. I think it's part of his pre-service ritual."
We grin at each other, and after that, the atmosphere is less strained. And Don Castellani is as good as his word, coming to visits the kitchen. Raffi and I stand to attention at once, but hesmiles—as much as his scar allows him to smile—and waves us back to our seats. The kitchen staff has barely noticed his entry, so focused on preparation as they are, and Raffi and I are seated at the non-busy end of the kitchen for our work, so there's some privacy when Sandro sits down with us.
"Darian, I am sorry that this happened to you," he says in a low voice. "I have spoken to AJ Bernardi and to Russo as well. Russo will be confined to his room for the rest of the parley. Bernardi has agreed to oversee his confinement. Russo will not be allowed to roam free, and he will not bother you. But if you prefer that he be sent away immediately, I will see it done."
Startled, I shake my head. "I'd rather just move on, Don Castellani."
"You're sure?"
"I know how important this parley is."
Sandro looks very serious when he says, "It is not as important as your safety, Darian. I mean it. I don't want you to feel you must put up with these behaviors for the sake of the parley. I would rather suspend talks than have my people feel endangered."
I glance at Raffi, who gives me an encouraging nod. "I understand, Don Castellani," I say slowly. "But Raffi—Mr. DeLuca and I, we worked very hard to make things come together. I want…I want it to go ahead."
Sandro looks like he wants to push it further, but he gives a nod. "Alright. But if you change your mind, Russowillbe immediately expelled from Redwood. And once the parley is over, and the protections that they have been granted are lifted, I will revisit the matter with Russo myself."
Well, that sounds ominous. But when I think about Russo's threats—and actually, now that I think of it— "Don Castellani, Russo seems to think the Bernardis will take over Redwood. He said something like that when he was…" I trail off and try not to shudder at the memory of Russo grabbing my arm like he did.
Sandro's eyes crinkle at the corners. "He may think it. But it will not happen." He rises from his seat and gives Raffi a nod. "For the remainder of the parley, DeLuca, make sure you keep Darian under guard."
"Oh, I will," Raffi replies, and once again, I feel that sense of safety here at Redwood that I always felt before the Bernardis arrived.
"The discussions have broken to allow the factions to review among themselves. Perhaps you two can get some rest for an hour or so—or take a walk outside, if you prefer," Sandro suggests.
We watch him go with mirrored surprise. "The Bossorderingme to take time off?" Raffi muses with a smirk. "Well damn, I gotta do what I'm told." He looks to me, and if I didn't know better, he'd seem almost shy. "Are you…gonna have a lie down, D? You could probably use the sleep."
"If I fall asleep I don't think I'll wake up," I admit. "I might take a walk in the gardens instead."
Every last detail for this evening's drinks and dinner is under control. Taking a short break will allow me to be at my best tonight.
Raffi's tongue flicks out along his bottom lip as we look at each other. "You want some company?" he asks casually.
I smile. "I'd like that."
It's a little hard to find things to talk about as Raffi and I walk around the rose garden near the kitchen patio. But all the same, it doesn't feel uncomfortable. I'm still feeling his lips on mine, still a little astonished at my own bravery in kissing him, still worried about his reaction to it.
But he does look tired. "Perhaps youshouldrest," I suggest, fifteen minutes in. "You were up so late last night?—"
"Nah," he says with a grin. "Gotta keep an eye on you."
