Giuseppe let out a low whistle. “Someone’s incredibly bold… or incredibly stupid. Jameson Drake holds grudges.”
“Yes, he does,” Enzo agreed. “Can you find out for me?”
Giuseppe made a noncommittal sound. “It’s possible. What do I get out of it?”
“Your usual fee,” Enzo said, keeping his voice casual when, in reality, he wanted to throttle the man.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Giuseppe said, then hung up.
Enzo slid his phone back into his pocket and returned to the lobby, making his way to the elevator. He hit the button for Kathleen’s floor and leaned against the back wall as the doors slid shut.
Now, the question was what to do with the damn statue.
CHAPTER NINE
Kathleen stared at the food on her plate. She wasn’t really hungry, but it looked good. A delicate salad. Pasta drenched in creamy sauce. Even a bit of seafood. Comfort food. And God knew she was in desperate need of comfort.
She twirled her fork through the noodles, then took a bite of the pasta. The flavor hit instantly. Rich. Perfect. The cheese melted on her tongue, the sauce silky and decadent. It should have been blissful, but she couldn’t quite enjoy it.
That was the thing about Italy; it had the best food. Okay, well, technically, she wasn’t in Italy. She was in the Italian region of Switzerland. Close enough. The food was the same, and damn, it was good. She sighed, setting her fork down for a moment.
She was procrastinating, and she knew it. She needed to call her brother. She needed to tell him what had happened. But… she didn’t want to tell him everything. If she told Jamie about the statue, he’d lose it. He’d get furious, and God only knew, he’d probably send a platoon of personal security. She’d have the Callahans on her in no time.
And she didn’t want that. She’d spent too many years living under lock and key, constantly looking over her shoulder,suffocating under the weight of other people’s protection. She wasn’t going back there. She couldn’t. No. She’d just leave out the details about the statue.
What she was going to tell him was simple: the man from the alley had taken her purse, gotten her room key, and tried to rob her room. That was it. That was her story, and she’d stick to it.
She took another bite of pasta, letting the creamy cheese coat her tongue, forcing herself to focus on the tiny slice of comfort. The warmth, the flavor, soothed something frayed and jagged inside her. She reached over and grabbed a piece of bread. Maybe she was hungrier than she thought. Or maybe… she was just stalling, putting off the inevitable. Either way, she was going to enjoy the hell out of this meal.
Damn Enzo and his impeccable taste. He’d ordered the best entree. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. Enzo Valardi appeared to be a man who enjoyed the finer things in life. Her brother was the same, but somehow Enzo seemed on another level, as if he’d spent plenty of years working damn hard and now he was determined to have the best of everything. She wondered what work he was in. Since he’d known Jamie for a long time, she was guessing he probably owned some kind of business. Winery. That she could totally see. Enzo picking grapes in the sunshine, getting that incredible tan that made his smile seem so dazzlingly white.
She cleared her throat and gave herself a mental nudge. Fantasizing about her brother’s friend was just silly. She was clearly more shaken up by today’s events than she thought. She ate another bite of pasta, trying to cleanse her mind as well as her palate.
After she drained one glass of wine, she pushed her plate away and poured herself another. But as she swirled the liquid in her glass, the truth settled in her gut like lead. She couldn’t put itoff any longer. With a slow breath, she picked up her phone and called her brother.
“Kathleen,” Jamie’s voice came through, warm, steady. “How are you doing now?”
“Umm…”
The warmth in his tone vanished in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
She gripped the stem of her wineglass tighter. “So… it appears the guy from the alley—when he took my purse, he got the room key. It took me so long at the police station that I was frazzled by the time I got back to the hotel. I forgot to request a new key. There was a cleaning person in the hallway when I got to my room, and she let me in so I didn’t have to go back downstairs again. She could tell I was upset, I think, and she knew who I was because she addressed me by name. Anyway, it was stupid of me. The guy… tried to break into the room.”
Silence. Then his voice dropped, sharp and lethal. “What do you mean, tried to break into the room?”
“Well…” She swallowed hard. “He didn’t try. He did. He broke into the room.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
Kathleen took a deep breath and forced herself to walk through it all again, the elevator, the door, the man, the push, the escape. She even mentioned the wine stain on the carpet. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. There’s no way they’re going to be able to get that out.”
“Forget the fucking wine stain,” he growled. Then, in that low, dangerous voice she hated, he asked, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” she reassured him quickly, too quickly. But the truth? Her back ached where she’d slammed into the wall, and now that the adrenaline had worn off, her shoulderthrobbed in protest. No need to share that with him. He would overreact.
“No, I’m fine, Jamie. Everything’s fine. Hotel security has been really on it.”
“Bullshit.” His voice cracked like a whip. “If they were on it, this never would have happened in the first place. Your key should have been changed immediately. I want someone’s head for this.”
