Kathleen stood in the silence, staring at the glamorous room that felt more like a stage than a sanctuary. Resisting the urge to check the lock on the door, she set her bag carefully on the tufted bench. She wasn’t sure what unnerved her more, staying in a stranger’s house in the middle of Milan…or the fact that she wanted to trust him anyway.
From a spot on the tufted bench, Kathleen stared at the room. If she ever had a house in Italy, this was exactly how she would have wanted it, at least her bedroom, anyway. She had always pictured a sanctuary overlooking the ocean. She wasn’t quite sure which sea it would be here, but that hardly mattered. InEnzo’s house, she had a garden view, filled with bright colors and wonderful scents. It was almost as good.
But this isn’t my place,she reminded herself. Just a quick pit stop before she was on her own again. At the sudden pang in her chest, she gave herself a mental shake. Being alone was fine. It was beyond fine. It was good. It was the safe choice, and keeping her heart safe was the only option for her.
After freshening up, she wandered back downstairs. It amazed her that this house not only had a courtyard in front but also a walled garden in the back. She stood in front of the French doors leading out to the terrace, studying the yard beyond.
“May I offer you a glass of wine? Or something else to drink?” Enzo asked.
“Three fingers of Scotch sounds good right about now,” she muttered, then shook her head. “But I’ll take the wine.”
Enzo grinned. “White or red?”
“You choose,” she said. Let the man who made the stuff pick. He hadn’t disappointed so far.
Enzo walked over to the corner, then disappeared down the stairs.
“God, he even has a wine cellar,” she murmured to herself.Of course he does. He owns wineries, she reminded herself.
A moment later, a man appeared with a plate of snacks. No, not snacks, a charcuterie board. That was the right word. Nobody said “plate of snacks” anymore. She had to laugh at herself. Funny how words went in and out of fashion.
“This is Aldo. He is my right hand here.” Enzo had reappeared with a bottle in his hands.
Aldo was short, not much taller than her five feet five inches, and he was thin but not gaunt. His deep brown eyes were watchful, and a tight smile lingered on his lips. His hair was salt and pepper, and judging by the wrinkles on his face, she would put him in his sixties.
“Nice to meet you, Aldo. I’m Kathleen.” She offered her hand.
He nodded to her but didn’t take her hand.
“If you need anything, ask Aldo.” Enzo gave him a nod, and the man turned and left the room.
Kathleen watched him go. She had the impression that Aldo did not approve of her. What Aldo thought didn’t matter because she was only there for a day, two tops, and then she would be on her way again. She turned to Enzo. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked.
Enzo raised an eyebrow as he poured the deep crimson liquid into two wine glasses.
“Yes, yes, for tonight,” she clarified.
“The plan is that you’ll stay here, and I will?—”
“Nope.” She cut him off sharply. “That’s not going to work. My mess…”
Enzo sighed. “Kathleen, my job is to keep you safe. After what happened on the road earlier today, there’s no way you are going tonight. Letting you go to the exchange?—”
“You’re notlettingme do anything.” Her voice rose. She swallowed and regrouped. “It’s precisely because of what happened today that I am going. I cannot in good conscience let someone go in my place. If anything happened to you, I…I would never be able to forgive myself.” The thought had hit her when she was upstairs. Enzo could get hurt because of her. She could not live with that.
“I’m letting you help me because my brother insists, and to be honest, I probably couldn’t have arranged this on my own. But you will not go in my stead. I will not be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. I will go to the exchange tonight.”
Enzo came to stand beside her at the French doors and handed her the glass. “Kathleen, we could have been killed today.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why would you want to take that risk?” he asked as if he was genuinely puzzled. “You have a child. Surely you want to keep yourself safe because of him, if for no other reason.”
She stared at him, struggling to put her thoughts into words with all the emotions swirling around inside her. She took a sip of wine to buy time. It was amazing. Of course it was.
“I spent years…yearsbeing terrified. Always looking over my shoulder. Never sure I was safe. Terrified that my son wasn’t safe and living a limited life to ensure he was. I’m not going back to that. If I don’t go tonight, it doesn’t matter what you tell me; I’ll be in the same situation. Unable to answer the question of whether I’m safe.” She pointed to her chest. “I won’t know that it’s over, that I’m safe. That Connor is safe from this. And I have to know. I can’t… I won’t go back to living like that.”
It was all true. That and more. Connor was a man. Young, yes, but a man. He didn’t need her in the same way anymore. And she knew if, god forbid, anything happened to her, Jamie would take good care of him. She wouldn’t crawl back into the shell that she’d lived in before. Not even if the cost were her life.
