Page 34 of His to Break

Since I’m going to be in the apartment alone, I decide to grab breakfast first and shower later. I don’t feel comfortable walking around in pajamas or a robe in case someone comes looking for Leo, so I throw on a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt that proclaims my love of New York. Olivia pitched a fit when I asked to pop into one of those tourist trap stores to buy it but my insistence won out. The t-shirt lacks the level of sophistication the Volantes obviously prefer, but who cares? I haven’t been to the city of my birth since I was a baby and I want to embrace the novelty.

Scooping my hair up into a loose ponytail, I bind it with an elastic band and quickly glance in the mirror that hangs on the back wall of the dressing room. I look more like a fresh-faced college student than a mafia bride, which pleases me.

I head along the corridor, intending to make myself some coffee and raid the pantry in the hopes of finding something to eat. Cereal or a pastry would be ideal but I guess I could try to cook something if there’s not a ready-to-eat option.

When I get to the living room, I stop dead. The wide, empty space at the back of the room between the elevator and the kitchen door has been filled with a large wooden dining room table and ten chairs. It’s big enough to seat Leo’s entire family. I guess he had it brought in for our dinner party with them. I’m touched he made the effort and amazed he got this done so fast.

“What are you eating?” I ask Leo, who’s sitting at the head of the table with a plate of something that spells delicious and also comfortably familiar.

“Breakfast,” he replies with what I’m learning is typical Leo vagueness.

I get closer and my heart thuds erratically. How can this be? On Leo’s plate is a dish I know well. It resembles Eggs Benedict, but it’s not that. Leo is eating two poached eggs, smothered with hollandaise sauce and dusted with paprika. They’re sitting on a bed of sauteed mushrooms rather than the usual English muffin. On the side of the plate is a slice of sourdough toast.

“Is that…”

“It is,” Leo confirms before I can even finish asking the question. “Eggs Beniamino, I believe he calls it.”

For a moment, I feel as if I can’t breathe. Did Benny cook that for Leo? I’m about to ask him when something clatters in the kitchen. I run past my husband, shaking off his attempt to grab my arm. Relief, joy, and a dozen other emotions hit me all at once as I find Benny at the stove. He’s wearing a white chef’s jacket and black pants, just as he did when he was working for me back in London.

I’m so excited to see him, I sprint across the room and throw myself into his arms. Catching me, he swings me around, hugging me tightly, and then carefully sets me down at arm’s length when Leo clears his throat behind us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

“You should speak to Signore Volante.” Benny nods respectfully toward Leo.

I turn to look at my husband, but, as usual, his face reveals nothing about what’s going on in his head. Is he angry that I hugged another man? Excitement overtook me, and I didn’t even think about how Leo might react. I hope he doesn’t punish Benny for my impulsiveness.

“Come and sit down, Vinnie. Benny will bring you some breakfast.”

He looks to Benny for confirmation and waits by the door for me to join him. Putting an arm around my shoulder, he steers me back out to the dining table.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out as Leo pulls back a chair for me to sit on. “I was so excited to see Benny, I didn’t think.”

Leo snorts derisively. “I’m not threatened by your friendship. I wouldn’t have brought him here if I was.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He pours a cup of coffee and places it in front of me. “Do I seem like the insecure type?”

No, he does not, and I’m starting to love that about him. There aren’t many men in our world who would tolerate their wife’s close friendship with another man.

“Insecure, no. Possessive, yes.”

“If he wanted to fuck you, I might have a problem.” Leo retakes his seat. “But he doesn’t, does he?”

I shake my head and leave the topic alone. I have no idea if Leo knows about Benny’s sexuality or if he cares, but my friend’s private life is not something I care to discuss. “So, why is he here?”

Leo scoops up some mushrooms and egg onto his toast and takes a bite. He chews it and swallows, making me wait for an answer.

“John needs to get back to his actual job. Benny’s taking over from him.”

“He’s here to cook for us?”

“I said I’d sort something out for the family dinner you want to throw and Benny’s got experience, so why not hire him?” Leo shovels more food into his mouth, appreciation evident in the way he moans. “Plus, you need a friend to explore the city with when I’m not available.”

A surge of excitement goes through me. “We can go out?”

“As long as you take security with you, yes. Your friend’s a big guy but he hasn’t got the skills to protect you.”

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