“I think we need to take a taxi,” I said, as I stepped toward the curb. Romero shook his head but I’d already raised my arm and a taxi swerved to the side and stopped beside me.
***Romero hung a few steps back, his alert gaze on my back. It was driving me crazy. People were giving us strange looks. “Can you please walk beside me?” I asked as we walked down Greenwich Street where the restaurant was. “I don’t want people to think you’re guarding me.” He was probably still pissed that I’d made him take a taxi, instead of the black BMW that screamed mafia from afar.
“I’m guarding you.”
I stopped until he fell into step beside me. The outside of the restaurant was surrounded by wild flowers growing in terracotta pots and the inside reminded me of British pubs I’d read about. It seemed as if every single of the waiters was tattooed, and the tables were set so closely together you could have eaten from your neighbor’s plate. I could see why Gianna would love it.
Romero’s lips twisted in obvious disapproval. It was probably a bodyguard’s nightmare. “Do you have a reservation?” A tall woman with a septum piercing asked.
“No.” Romero narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe someone was actually asking something like that. I loved it. Here I wasn’t Aria, wife of Luca Vitiello. “But it’s just the two of us. And we won’t take long,” I said politely.
The woman looked between Romero and me, then smiled. “You have 1 hour. You are a cute couple.”
She turned to lead us toward our table, which was why she didn’t see Romero’s expression. “Why didn’t you correct her?” he asked quietly.
“Why should I?”
“Because we aren’t a couple. You are Luca’s.”
“I am. And I’m not.”
Romero didn’t argue again, but I could tell it made him uncomfortable to act like we were anything but bodyguard and his boss’s wife. I ate a salad with the most delicious dressing and enjoyed watching the people around us, while Romero ate a burger and monitored our surroundings. I couldn’t wait to take Gianna here. Sadness filled me at the thought. I had never been so lonely in my life. Only two days into my new life and I really didn’t know how to survive the many thousand days that would follow. “So Luca will be home late again tonight?”
“I suppose,” Romero said evasively.
After we’d eaten, I forced Romero to stroll through the neighborhood of the restaurant for a bit longer, but eventually I got frustrated with his stiff posture and obvious discomfort, and agreed to return to the apartment.
***
When the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment building, Romero paid the driver and I slipped out of the car. As I approached the glass front, I noticed one of Luca’s cousins sitting inside the lobby. What was she doing here? We hadn’t talked more than a few sentences at the wedding and I hadn’t gotten the impression that she was interested in friendship. Confused, I stepped into the lobby. Cosima’s eyes snapped to me and she walked up to me without hesitation and hugged me to my surprise, then she pressed something into my hand. “Here. Don’t let Romero or anyone else see it. Now smile.”
I did, stunned. I could feel a folded piece of paper and what felt like a key in my palm. I quickly stashed them in my purse when Romero appeared beside me. “What are you doing here, Cosima?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.
She flashed her teeth at him. “I wanted to see how Aria was doing and asked her if we could meet for lunch soon. But now I need to go. I have a hair appointment.” She gave me a warning look, then she walked out, high heels clacking on the marble floor.
Romero was watching me. “What did she say?”
“What she told you,” I said, raising my chin. “I want to go up now.” He wanted me to act like his boss, so he couldn’t expect me to open up to him. He nodded and led me toward the elevator with a curt nod toward the two receptionists.
The moment we entered the penthouse, I excused myself and headed into the guest bathroom. I pulled out what Cosima had given me and unfolded the piece of paper.
Aria,
The key is for one of the apartments the Vitiello’s own. Come over tonight at ten pm to see what your husband is really up to while you warm his bed. Be careful and quiet, and don’t tell anyone. Romero will try to stop you. Shake him off.The address was at the bottom of the page. The note wasn’t signed and it was written with a computer. Was it from Cosima? It would make sense. I read it over and over again. It could be a trick, or worse: a trap, but curiosity burned through me. Luca hadn’t exactly been the most present husband. The only problem was how to get to the apartment and how to get rid of Romero. He never left my side.***
I convinced Romero to go out to dinner to a restaurant that according to google maps was only a five-minute walk from the address Cosima had given me. When Romero used the guest bathroom in our apartment, I used the moment to take a small gun Luca kept in one of the top drawers in the walk-in closet. I’d noticed it when I’d unpacked my suitcases and folded my clothes into drawers. I hid it in the side pocket of my bag. Even though I didn’t have much experience with guns, I knew how to handle them in theory. Better safe than sorry.
***
It was quarter past nine. Romero and I had just finished our starter, when I stood to head for the bathroom. Romero pushed back his chair and was about to stand as well.
I glared. “You won’t follow me to the bathroom. Do you think I will get lost on the way? People will be staring. Nobody knows who I am here. I’m safe.”