Page 32 of Bought By the Mafia

“She knows Mr. Morelli?” I thought she was only my friend, unless it was a different Allison.

Just then, I heard the shuffling of footsteps descending the staircase. By the time I turned, was Gio strolling over to me. “Who is it?” he asked.

“A guest of yours, apparently. Allison?”

He paused and straightened his back. He seemed momentarily nonplussed, then he galvanized back into his regular self. “Give me the phone,” he said.

I handed it to him and stepped aside. I was too curious to leave, but I couldn’t hear anything that was being said on the other side. Only Gio first talking in a commanding voice and asking the same question as I was, then his tone changed to soft as he said, “Hi. How are you doing? I didn’t know you were in town.” And then, “No, no, no, you’re always welcome here.” And finally, back to his commanding tone as he said, “Let her through,” and hung up.

I waited for him to offer an explanation, but he didn’t. Instead, he went to wait in the foyer next to the elevator. I followed him, my curiosity peaking higher and higher. “Expecting guests? You didn’t tell me. I could have prepared,” I said.

“I’m not.” No elaboration. If he thought that would lessen my interest, he was mistaken.

“Allison. Huh? Who is she?” Is it the Allison I knew or a different Allison? I wondered.

“A friend.”

“Huh. Didn’t know you had any.”

He never had time to respond. The elevator doors opened and Allison appeared. That is Allison. The concern in the concierge’s voice suddenly made sense. She looked like a drowned cat. Mud was splattered on her jeans, and her formerly white top, and her matted hair and mud-splattered face gave her a bedraggled look.

Giovanni immediately rushed to her. If he thought of anything about her appearance, he didn’t say.

“Hi.” Her lips widened into a shaky smile. “I was in the neighborhood.” She shrugged helplessly, her gaze squarely on Gio.

Gio took her hand in his and led her inside. “What happened?”

“A car sped into a pothole and lucky me got splashed. New York, am I right?” She glanced warily at me, but kept her attention on Gio. “It happened just as I was passing by your building,” she said, “and I thought maybe I could borrow a shower and clean myself up?”

“It’s fine. You can use the guest bathroom.”

“Thanks. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday.”

“Don’t worry. You know where the bathroom is, right?”

She gave me a slight glance before going up the stairs. Gio’s gaze was on her the entire time and even though he was standing with arms akimbo, there was a moment when he hesitated after she stumbled on a step. It was clear they had a history between them. His voice was tender when he spoke to her. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak that softly to me now or ever.

A strange sense of dread settled over me as I pondered the implications of what this could mean. If she knew Gio, then she must have known me when we met, and if she did, why didn’t she say anything then or since? It’s not like I ever hid who I was. I literally brought her here that day. I stumbled onto her in the park. Well, not here in this apartment, but in the lobby. Maybe she thought I lived in another part of the building. An innocent explanation for all of this was possible instead of the sinister track my mind was hurtling on.

“Who is she?” my voice came out strained, betraying my emotions. If Gio caught on, he didn’t show it.

“A friend of mine.”

“You said that earlier, but I don’t think that’s true.”

He shrugged. “She’s an ex who’s now a friend.”

“Is that all?” He sounded too casual as he spoke to fool me. She was more than just some ex. I don’t know why, but innate intuition was telling me she differed from the Russian lawyer ex we met at his friend’s party.

“Why? Are you jealous?”

“Not at all. I was just wondering why you went all soft suddenly when you were interacting with her.”

“Soft?” he frowned. Then brightened as his mouth widened into a smirk. “You’re jealous of her, aren’t you? Well, you don’t have to worry, because unlike you, I intend to keep to our promise. And besides, she’s only here to wash herself. Got any problem with that?”

“None. It’s your home, after all.”

“It’s your home too.”

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