Page 118 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
I was expecting anything but the soft surprise and warmth in her voice when she answers. “Of course. I’m happy to talk to you.” After a moment of hesitation, she adds, “I’m glad you called.”
Why don’t I have a glass of wine in my hand? What was I thinking? This calls for a huge glass of alcohol!
Attempting to sound like a sane adult, I continue the conversation. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Strike that—I know we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Yes. I believe we did.”
Her voice is quiet, but not hostile. So far, so good.
I start to pace. I think she must sense my agitation because she remains patiently silent until I gather my thoughts.
It takes longer than I thought it would.
“You’re sure I’m not disturbing you?”
“I’ve just finished supper, and Lorenzo left a few minutes ago to walk the dogs. This is a good time.”
Okay, we’ll start there. “Where does Lorenzo sleep?” It comes out more accusatory than I intended. I might as well have called her a big slutty ho.
“I beg your pardon?”
Oh screw it. Let the chips fall where they may. “Are you and Lorenzo a couple?”
Her laugh is unexpected. “If we were, his wife would certainly have something to say about it!”
I stop pacing. “Wife? What wife?”
“His quite lovely wife of almost forty years, Barbara. She’s a darling woman, but if she believed for one moment I had designs on her husband, I’d be missing my teeth. She’s German. You should see her arms. The woman could pass for a professional wrestler. They live close to Il Sogno—it’s the white cottage with the blue door at the bottom of the hill next to the bakery. You’ve seen it?”
I’ve seen it. I’m sure there’s a nice bed for Lorenzo inside.
“Barbara works the night shift, which is why Lorenzo often stays late. Or comes early, depending how you look at it. And to answer your question directly: no. Lorenzo and I are not romantically involved. He is one of my truest friends, however. He’s seen me through many difficult times.”
She pauses to control the small tremor in her voice. “Barbara arrives tomorrow on the train. It’s our annual tradition, a little holiday for all of us. I can get on quite well with the service in the hotel, and Lorenzo and Barbara take in the sights. Milan is so beautiful this time of year.”
That’s more than I’ve heard her say in the entire time I’ve known her. Apparently accusing a woman of sleeping with her butler is a great way to get her to talk.
I have to give her major props for not holler
ing at me and hanging up.
“I hope I get to meet her soon. I’m sorry I had to ask you that. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, it’s just that—”
“It’s just that Dominic has been in your ear,” she finishes, sounding sad but unsurprised.
“Yes.” I feel guilty admitting it. She’s being so nice! Where has this nice lady been all along? Why has she been wearing an iceberg disguise?
“I wondered how long it would take him. Is there anything else you’d like to ask me? Since we’re having such a nice chat.”
The warmth is back in her voice again. Maybe she’s been drinking. She’s on vacation, after all.
“Now that you mention it, I do have a few more questions.”
“I’m listening.”
I take a moment to wrangle open a wine bottle and pour myself a glass. Then I sit down at the kitchen table and fortify myself with a few sips. “Why didn’t you come to the hospital when my father was sick?”
“Oh,” she says faintly. “I see you’ve brought the big guns.”
