Soon, we’re sitting at a table in an intimate corner of Mitsuko’s, a Japanese restaurant in the Salding district.I feel glamorous in my dress, and Damiano’s suit fits him beautifully.
We get to talking about my house, and I tell him a little about Vivienne.I show him my star sapphire ring that she gave me, the one I always wear.Then I add, “There’s a secret, too.I think she had a love affair with someone in Russia.”
“Really?”He grins, intrigued.“During the Cold War, I imagine?”
“So it would’ve been the Soviet Union.Yeah.”I think back to the letter I read today.“Maybe they weren’t lovers—maybe they were writing in secret code.Maybe they werespies.”
Damiano and I toss some theories back and forth, enjoying what is now low-stakes drama.During the height of the Cold War, nothing would’ve seemed light about this to my great-aunt.But now, many years later, we’re free to speculate.I think she would get a kick out of it, honestly.Especially because, to my understanding, she had zero government ties.The spy theories are complete fiction.
The whole time we speak, Damiano’s attention is on me, and solely me.I realize with a pang that this is how it used to be with him, before his work got so demanding.I’m the center of his universe tonight.While I don’t always need that kind of attention and focus, I’ve missed it.
After a delicious meal of Japanese food, Damiano pays the check without allowing me to offer.“Next time, it’ll be my treat,” I say.
“Next time.”His eyes are intent on mine.
I think he realizes I was starting to pull away after all his work interruptions, but now we’re making plans for the future.
If I can get this version of Damiano more often—the playful version, who isn’t frustrated by constantly putting out fires at work—I can see a future here.
We leave the restaurant and I shiver in the cool autumn night.
Damiano tucks me against his side.“Come home with me, Madison.”
The night has gone so well, I don’t want it to end.“Yes.Of course.”
“Good.”His smile is devious.“I want to ruin you in one thousand ways.It’s time for those unspeakable things we talked about.”
Damiano’s building is just down the street—it’s the tallest one here, and I’m tempted to make a dick joke, but the building is truly magnificent.It’s luxurious, but not flashy or gaudy.
We park in the underground garage.Damiano assesses our surroundings as we walk to the elevators.Is he nervous?He has to insert a key and punch in a code before the elevator doors open.Even then, there’s a tension to his stance.I squeeze his hand, wondering if he’s worried, for some reason, about bringing me here.Does he think I wouldn’t approve of his place?Surely he isn’t that insecure.
“This building is called Palazzo dei Nove, right?”I ask.
“Yes.”Finally, his gaze lands fully on me, for the first time since we pulled into the garage.“My apartment is at the top.Seth lives on the floor below mine, when he’s in town.”
“Does he travel a lot?”
A scowl twists his lips.“Not usually, no.”
The elevator chimes.We step into a hallway gleaming with natural wood and creamy-white walls.Damiano unlocks the door directly in front of us and ushers me into a beautiful penthouse apartment.He helps me out of my coat and places it on a hook next to the door.I add my handbag to the next hook.
“Make yourself comfortable.”He kisses my cheek.“I’ll get us some drinks.”
He moves toward what I assume is the kitchen and leaves me to explore the large, but cozy living room.A set of steps leads into a sunken area with a couch, coffee table, and plush chairs.I try to picture Damiano chilling in this room.I can imagine him kicked back in one of those comfy-looking chairs, watching TV or reading a book.
I move to a set of wall shelves.It holds some books, but there’s just as much empty space as not.Zero knickknacks.To some people, it might seem that Damiano doesn’t actually live in this penthouse, but I get the sense that he doesn’t like having a lot of stuff.
A crash comes from the kitchen, and Damiano exclaims in Italian.
“Are you okay?”I call.“Can I help?”
“Everything’s fine.”He laughs.“I dropped a cup.Just give me a minute, bella.I’ll be right there.”
A loud knocking sounds on the door.I look toward the kitchen, but Damiano didn’t seem to hear it.The knocking happens again, an insistent series of raps.Is he expecting someone?Maybe Seth returned from Europe.Although I hope Damiano didn’t call Seth over without telling him I’m here.I couldn’t bear to be an unpleasant surprise—again.
“Damiano?There’s someone at your door,” I say.
He swears again, this time over the sound of running water.
