“Hey, Salvatore. How are you?”
“Okay.” Not really. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just playing with Jacob.”
“Can I drop by?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, then added, “you know.” Natalie was the one person who knew me for who I really was. I trusted Marco, my bodyguard, but he didn’t know this side of me. I didn’t trust anyone enough to share this vulnerability. Too many people ready and waiting for weakness.
“Come on over.”
“Thanks. See you in twenty minutes.”
I drove to her house, a two-story brick home about forty-five minutes from mine. Her parents lived nearby, and she’d moved here specifically to be close to them. When I rang the doorbell, Natalie answered with Jacob perched on her hip. He still wore his pajamas and held the stuffed animal I’d given him on his first birthday. He gave me a huge gummy smile. He only had three teeth, although I could see the fourth one was working its way in.
“Wow, haven’t you grown.” I took Jacob from Natalie’s arms. He wrapped his arms around my neck and planted a wet kiss on my face.
“Nice,” Natalie said. “You look…not so good.”
She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek after wiping off the mark Jacob had left.
“Come in.”
I put Jacob down on the floor among his toys, which seemed to be everywhere.
“Espresso?”
“Please.” I took a seat on the couch and watched Jacob play while Natalie made espresso and then joined me in the living room.
“How was the funeral?”
“Shitty.” I took a sip of the espresso she handed me, dark and rich and bitter as hell, just the way I liked it. “He’s got Sergio’s eyes,” I said, taking the toy Jacob held out to me.
Natalie stroked the little boy’s hair. “And his stubborn streak.”
“I don’t know. I think you may both be responsible for that one.”
She smiled. “You could be right on that. What’s up, Salvatore?”
“Lucia’s home with me.”
Natalie nodded, knowing the situation. “How’s that going?”
“Well, she’s been there less than twenty-four hours, and I think I’ve fucked it up pretty well.” I drank the last sip of espresso.
“Want to talk about it?”
What could I tell her? What could I tell her that wouldn’t make me sound like a monster? Like my father. Hell, he would have been proud of me this morning.
“She hates me, as expected. She is battling me at every turn. Stubborn as hell.”
“She’s only been with you since the funeral?”
I nodded.
“Then you must really be pissing her off.” She winked. “Just give her some space. It’s a huge change for her, and her father just died. Suicide, right?”
