There’s no doubt about that, but there’s more to her words.
“Will you look at me?” She blushes. “Here I am, overstepping my boundaries. I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s just that with your mother gone—” She shakes herself out of what she was going to say with a wiggle of her shoulders. “I’d never insinuate that my advice could substitute a mother’s.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. It’s good advice.”
One of the guards walks up to us. His muscles suggest that he can throw the garden table like a frisbee. Unlike the bodyguards who wear suits, he’s dressed in a brown army T-shirt and camo pants.
“Mrs. Morici.” He nods at Emily. “Mr. Morici called. He won’t be able to accompany you to the doctor today. I’ll escort you.”
My pulse quickens. Dante never misses my appointments. He always insists on driving me himself. “Did something happen?”
The man’s smile is impersonal, but his tone is friendly. “There’s been a holdup at the office.”
I blow out a sigh of relief. Dante must be caught up in work or a meeting.
“I’ll watch Noah if you want to go get ready,” Emily says.
My, “Thank you,” is directed at both of them. “Do you mind giving me ten minutes?”
The man checks his watch as he considers the question. “We have time.”
Very diligent. I suppose that’s why Dante chose him to take me.
I freshen up and say goodbye to Noah before leaving him in Emily’s care. Dante never takes me anywhere without bodyguards, but today I’m leaving with double the number of men. Dante is probably being overcautious as he’s not here himself.
Dr. Chad uses deeper hypnosis today. She says it’s a good sign that I haven’t had a panic attack for a while. I’m profoundly relaxed when I leave her consultation room. I always feel as rested as if I’ve had a whole night’s uninterrupted sleep.
The guard waits in the reception area, dominating one of the designer chairs that’s too small for his muscled frame. More men stand at attention in the hallway. They follow as the guard escorts me to the car. He opens the back door and waits until I’m seated before he gets behind the wheel.
Another man gets into the front. I gather it’s his job to watch the surroundings while my guard drives. A car with more guards goes ahead of us while two more follow once we’ve pulled out of the parking lot into the road.
It’s just after three, but I check my phone in the hope that Dante has sent me a message.
Nothing.
I call him, but his phone goes straight to voicemail.
Catching the driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror, I ask, “What’s your name?”
He hasn’t said a word to me since we left the house.
“Stevenson, Mrs. Morici. My friends call me Steve.”
“Do you mind if we make a detour, Steve?”
He nods at the guard next to him who takes out his phone and types out a message.
Wait. “Are you checking with my husband?” Because if they can reach him, why can’t I?
“Just informing the men accompanying us in different cars, ma’am.”
The man in the passenger seat nods at Steve.
I look between them. “Do you always communicate with body language?”
Neither answer.
“Where would you like to go, Mrs. Morici?”
