Page 12 of Third Crime's A Charm
“You know, I feel sorry for you. But not enough to have sex with you. Goodnight,” Matteo said with a soft laugh and rolled away from Truman.
“Goodnight.”
It was Truman’s turn to argue with the ceiling but he was silent about it. Matteo’s breathing settled quickly, leaving Truman with a hard-on and regrets. He had bungled his chances for a partners-in-crime-with-benefits relationship and had made everything more difficult with Matteo.
Instead of having fun and planning a heist, Truman would have to grovel to get back into Matteo’s good graces. He couldn’t afford for anyone to be suspicious about them or for Matteo to change his mind. The precariousness of the situation reminded Truman of the Olympic pole vaulter who was knocked out of the competition by an erection. Too much was riding on this heist for Truman to trip over his own dick.
Five
The other side of the bed was blessedly vacant when Matteo woke up the next morning. Truman had mentioned that he liked to run early, claiming it was to keep Neville in shape. But Matteo suspected that Truman was also giving him some space and time to think. And possibly cool down.
He was in a far more charitable mood when he wandered into the kitchen in a borrowed shirt and khaki shorts and was greeted with one of Donna’s hugs, coffee, and fresh pastries from a local bakery.
“I sent Neville out before their run,” she informed Matteo while she filled his plate with cut melon and berries and a large piece of blueberry coffee cake.
“Danke!” he said, kissing her cheek and lowering onto a stool.
“Eggs?” she asked as she set the plate in front of him but Matteo shook his head.
“This looks delightful already.”
“So polite!” Donna declared and gave his hand a squeeze. “I don’t bake as much as I used to but the bakeries here are good enough,” she said with a shrug. She went around themarble island and poured herself a cup of coffee, taking the spot across from Matteo. “I’m gonna tell you something but this stays between us,” she said conspiratorially.
“Your secret is safe with me, Donna,” Matteo said as he cut off a bite of cake and scooped it into his mouth. “That’s lovely!” he groaned, making her laugh.
“It’s not anything earth shattering, but I usually don’t like the men that Truman dates. Not that I’ve met that many. He works too hard and he’s picky.”
Matteo hummed knowingly. “You mean he’s difficult and demanding. I told you, your secrets are safe with me, Donna.”
“That’s Truman, the attorney. He’s a ball buster back in Chicago and in Manhattan because he has to be. I think that’s why he usually goes for shit bags,” she added, causing Matteo to cough on his cake.
“I’m learning so much,” he said and washed it down with a gulp of coffee.
“He worries about me and Marie. I don’t think he wants someone else to worry about. So he picks men he’d never be happy with.”
A frown tugged at Matteo’s brow. He thought thatshewas the picky one but there might be more to it. “How can you tell?”
“The men he usually brings think too much of themselves to talk to me. They make backhanded comments about how quaint it is sharing meals with the housekeeper. But I know they don’t like it and complain to Truman when I’m out of the room.”
“That’s appalling behavior. You’re the most redeeming thing about Truman, so far, and I honestly wasn’t sure about him and this getaway until I met you.”
She thought Matteo was joking and laughed. “Nonsense. He may act like a rascal but he’s always been my sweet boy. I have a girl named Marie and they grew up like siblings and I couldn’t love him more if he was my own.”
“Truman did say that you raised him. His mother sounds…” Matteo cleared his throat suggestively.
Donna looked around Matteo to make sure Truman wasn’t in sight, then let out a disgusted snort. “That woman has always had ice in her veins. She would have sent Truman away when his father died. He was just a little boy and so small back then. It broke my heart so I insisted on keeping him.”
“Thank goodness he had you. Losing a parent is hard on a child,” Matteo managed, his heart hurting for his own parents and for little Truman. He wondered why Truman hadn’t mentioned his father’s death and how deep that wound was. “Being sent away would have been even more traumatic.”
“That never crossed Margot Tennyson’s mind but I convinced her it would save her a fortune on tuition to fancy boarding schools. It didn’t matter to her as long as he kept up his grades and could get into the right universities later. I brought my Marie to work with me whenever I could. She and Truman have been playmates since they were toddlers and shared his lessons when he had tutors.”
Matteo suddenly understood why Donna’s opinion mattered. She was a font of gossip but she was sincere and couldn’t lie if her life depended upon it. “Where is Marie?” he asked, suddenly curious to meet Truman’s “sister.”
“Back in Chicago! She runs Truman’s practice there.”
“Oh? Well done, you! Both of your children are attorneys.”
“I couldn’t tell you who’s smarter,” Donna said, beaming into her mug. “Truman’s always looked after us and trusts us so we get to see Truman, the sweet bean.”
