Page 62 of The Thief

We’re interrupted by the waiter, who sets a couple of bowls in front of us, each with a small, beautifully plated portion of fish. “Tuna carpaccio with radicchio and white truffle,” he announces. “Buon appetito.”

Lucia tries a forkful. “Oh God, this is good,” she moans in appreciation. “I’m biased because I’m hungry, but oh my God. This is delicious.” She dips her fork in the sauce, and the tip of her tongue darts out to taste it.

My vision goes hazy. Lucia is the sweetest temptation. Everything about her is fascinating.

And I want to know all her secrets.

“My turn,” I announce. Her expression turns immediately wary, but she doesn’t need to worry. I’m not going to push.For now.“Did you go to your parents’ storage unit?” I already know the answer to that question, but I want to hear from her.

Her shoulders relax. “That’s what you want to know? No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just too hard to find someone to move stuff from Mestre to Castello.”

“Is that the only reason?”

She bends her head so I can’t see her expression. “What else would it be?”

“It’s okay to admit some things are hard, tesoro,” I say quietly. “When I was sixteen, a friend of mine, someone who lived in the shelter with me, overdosed. I had to go to the morgue to identify her body, and I couldn’t do it alone. Enzo had to come with me so I wouldn’t fall apart.”

Her head snaps up. “Enzo Peron, the chief of police? The guy you were glaring daggers at Casanova, you’re friends with him?”

“He’s like family. We grew up together on the streets. But we keep it quiet for obvious reasons.” I squeeze her hand. “There’s no shame in asking for help, Lucia. If you want company to go to the storage unit, I would be happy to come with you.”

“I might cry on you,” she says lightly, still not making eye contact. “What would you do then?”

I would burn the world down if it would help. “I’ll come armed with a pocketful of handkerchiefs.”

That makes her laugh. “And here I thought you’d threaten to murder somebody.” She wipes up the last of the sauce. “God, that was good. Okay, it’s my turn to ask a question. Tell me another secret.”

“I just did,” I protest. “I told you about Enzo.”

She smiles cheekily. “It wasn’t your turn, Antonio. It doesn’t count.”

“I don’t really think you’re playing fair.”

Her lips twitch. “If you’re too afraid. . .”

I laugh. “Okay, fine. I got really sick the winter after I stole the Titian. No matter how many blankets I piled on myself, I couldn’t get warm. Enzo and Tatiana begged me to sell the painting so I could buy medicine and sleep in a hotel room, but I wouldn’t. They railed at me and called me a sentimental fool, but I stayed stubborn.”

“Tatiana Cordova, the beautiful and talented actress that I thought you were dating?”

“Like Enzo, she’s family. You’d like her.”

“Are they the ones who think your house is too cluttered?”

She remembers my throwaway comment from weeks ago? I have to work to keep from smiling in triumph. “That’s them. They’re coming over for lunch on Sunday. Would you like to join us?”

The moment I ask that question, I know I’ve made a mistake. She lowers her lashes, hiding her expression from me. “I was just making conversation. Okay, it’s your turn. Ask me a question.”

Fuck. I pushed too hard, and she’s retreating again. I will myself to be patient. Lucia’s worth the wait. “How many people have warned you about being with me?”

Her shoulders relax. “That’s what you want to know? Half the people at work are convinced I’m your latest conquest, and the other half only care about the money you give the museum. My boss hasn’t said anything yet, so I don’t know which category he belongs to.”

I feel a sudden rush of anger. “Who thinks you’re my latest conquest?”

“Why do you want to know? So that you can threaten them?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you, Antonio.”

---