I nodded, because a gnawing discomfort settled between my shoulder blades. “If there’s anything I can do—” My voice trailed off.
“Thanks.” She tipped her chin up. She was too fucking proud to let me see her tears.
It didn’t feel right. I didn’t know the first thing about apologies, but this one wasn’t going well.
Fucking waste of my time. But….
There was a pragmatic reason to see her happy.
There’s a good reason to see someone else happy.
The idea took shape, forming in my head, and then my lips began to move before I thought it out completely. “One of my guys breeds pups. Should I ask him when he’s got a litter ready to find homes?”
That changed the mood entirely.
Amanda perked up, sitting eagerly on the edge of her chair. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind. Or I can call him. I kind of wanted one today.”
A dog…. Acompanion.
“I’ll call,” I decided. “Don’t you have cats, though?”
Amanda laughed. “I need another, and two dogs. Then, well, we’ll just see about the next addition to the family.”
Her smile gave me the jitters. From the front of the office, Betty began to hum a lullaby my mother sang to me when I was very young. The haunting tune felt like maggots squirming in my bones.
“A menagerie. Cute.” I went to my desk and dialed my soldier. After a brief conversation, I hung up. “He had a litter ten weeks ago. There are four pups available.”
Amanda was happy. Which meant her killer husband would be happy—even if she brought home a dog without asking him. Amanda didn’t strike me as the type to ask Vincenzo’s permission. I gave Amanda the cellphone number of the breeder, telling her to arrange it with her goons. There was someone else I needed to make happy.
Yes…yes, happy is good.
And there were simple ways to accomplish that.
I opened my computer and drafted an email to myself. The list of ideas grew faster than I could type.
What the fuck is the point?
My molars ground together. The point was that I didn’t want Gabriella miserable. I didn’t have delusions that she would prefer me, a scarred monster, over whoever her heart longed for. Until I eliminated that thorn, I didn’t stand a shot with my wife. But there were measures I could take immediately to start the process.
Sitting back, I flicked my middle finger over the roller on the mouse. The list of ideas scrolled across the screen.
But my mind wandered to the question putting pressure right behind my eyes. A headache began to form. Where was her lover? I was beginning to think he wasn’t local. Otherwise, he would have made contact by now.
She did study abroad….
“Betty,” I clipped in Gaeigle. “After you make that list, I have something else I need you to look up.”
Betty’s frown appeared in the doorway. “And that would be?”
“Recanati.”
That one word had Amanda flicking a glance in our direction.
“I need you to hunt down information about a trip my wife took there.” Pressing send on the email, I rose and went to the front door. “Please, Betty.”
She grinned. “On it, boss.”
Stepping into the sunshine, I let the light chase away the ghosts. Gabriella’s lover would die a slow, painful death.
