Her Perfect Man- The Complete Series Box Set

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Her Perfect Man- The Complete Series Box Set Page 32

by Z. L. Arkadie


  “I will see you soon. Take care of him.” He points at Aiden. “He is my beach friend.”

  I get Aiden down and take his temperature. He is fast asleep, and his temperature is about one and a half degrees high.

  “Not so bad,” I say, looking at him.

  I stay with him until he’s out, then I go to my room, shower, and get to bed. I’m exhausted, but it’s sort of strange sleeping without Gianfranco. I’m so used to his body against mine. I miss laughing at a funny story he must tell before we close our eyes. Those days we spent together couldn’t get any better. When I lose consciousness, I’m pretty sure I’m still smiling.

  I wake with a start and look toward my nightstand. My phone is ringing. I pick it up and look at the time. It’s six in the morning, and Nolan’s calling.

  “Hello,” I say, sounding tired.

  “Liza. John has been convicted of first-degree murder.”

  My shoulders collapse as if the wind has been sucked from my sails. “He was?”

  I scamper around, looking for something but I have no idea what. “Okay. Then I have to come home. Now.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. I’m leaving this morning.”

  “Liza, he’s your ex-husband.”

  “But he killed our father!” I calm myself. “Listen, don’t argue with me about this, please. I want you to pick me up at the airport. I’ll send you my flight information. See you soon. Okay?”

  Nolan is silent for a while before he sighs. “Okay.”

  He hangs up. I sit on the edge of the bed, wanting to scream at the top of my lungs, but I don’t want to wake Aiden. I cannot believe my ears.

  I can’t believe Nolan wants me to stay in Italy after this. No way. I must see John. I’ve been avoiding him for too long.

  I sigh, feeling as if a truckload of bricks has fallen on top of me. I activate the screen of my phone, search the contact list, and call Pete Johnson, our family lawyer. I ask him if he knows how to get me into the jail or prison to visit John.

  “It will be easy for you,” he says. “John’s been trying to get in contact with you since the arrest, but he doesn’t have your number in Italy. So his lawyer contacted me to say that you are on his visitation list. Apparently John’s been hoping you’d want to come see him. But why would you?”

  I cradle my face in my hand. “Because, Pete. I just have to.”

  Pete’s silent for a long moment. “Okay, then. When are you returning?”

  “I want to leave today.”

  “Well… it’s Monday. The prison hosts visitors on Monday through Wednesday, and then Saturday.”

  I thank him for being open with me about this, and we end the call.

  I suspect Aiden has an ear infection, so I call Dr. Russo before I pack. He’s a great pediatrician who always answers his phone no matter what time I call. I tell him Aiden’s symptoms and explain that I have to leave the country immediately. He confirms that it sounds as if Aiden has an ear infection and warns me against putting him on an airplane. We make an appointment for later today—Floriana will take him.

  So I call Elsa.

  “Floriana and Aiden have to come and stay with you,” I say.

  “Sure, that sounds fine. But what is the matter? Something sounds wrong.”

  “I just spoke with Nolan. John has been convicted of killing my father.”

  “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

  I take a long pause, trying everything I can to hold back my tears. “I am too.”

  Elsa agrees to take me to the airport, and I hang up before I break down.

  I book a ticket. My flight leaves today at ten a.m. It’s almost eight in the morning, and Floriana has arrived. I explain to her what’s going on, and she gets Aiden ready as I rush over to Gianfranco’s place. I’d rather tell him in person what happened.

  By the time I get to his house, it’s after eight. Luther answers and tells me Gianfranco has left for a meeting in the city, so I ask if I can go upstairs. I want to leave a sexy note on his bed. I want him to crave me while I’m gone.

  “Why, certainly, madam,” Luther says. He’s become more inviting than he was the day I first met him.

  I rush upstairs to Gianfranco’s room. As soon as I walk through the door, I see a naked woman lying on the bed. My heart drops to the other side of the earth. “Who are you?”

  “Who are you?” she asks as if she’s the grand dame.

  “I asked first.”

  She twists her naked hips and pokes out her perfect tits. “I’m Gianfranco’s wife.”

  I feel as if a thousand volts of lightning have struck me. “His wife?”

  “Yes, his wife,” she snaps. “And I asked you, who are you?”

  She’s demanding and snobby—what a bitch. I look at the floor and picture my heart lying there, shattered into tiny pieces. I can’t breathe. That’s probably because I’m running. I don’t stop running until I get into my car and drive off.

  Next I do the most dangerous thing and call Elsa to tell her what happened. She’s incensed and urges me to get over to her house and make sure Floriana drives. She doesn’t want me driving in this condition.

  I hang up and try to control my car. I make it home with a heart that’s so broken that I don’t think I’ll ever recover.

  23

  “Liza, you must stop crying. Your face is puffy,” Elsa says.

  We’re at the airport. It’s hot and sticky today, but I’m in too much pain to be bothered by it. At least Elsa parked close to the terminal so that she can come inside and see me to the check-in counter.

  “I’m not crying now,” I whisper.

  “Do not cry later either.”

  My gaze bounces from one passing face to the next. I wonder if my expression tells these strangers the story of a man I thought I was falling in love with—a man who never bothered to tell me that he still had a wife. He’s a liar just like John and Salvatore. Three men in a row? That can’t be coincidence. Something about me attracts these sorts of bloodsuckers.

  “Tears heal,” I say to Elsa.

  “True, but time is a better healer. You are young and beautiful. You will be over that pig in no time.”

  I snicker lightly. I wish I could agree. Gianfranco is not a pig. As a matter of fact, he treated me—my mind and my body—with the utmost respect. Perhaps I was in over my head. I thought he was falling in love with me. Maybe I read our affair all wrong. Maybe I was merely his muse so that he could finish Fixation and make another million US dollars—or two or three. The press is saying the price tag on his piece will be astronomical.

  I link my arm around Elsa’s. “Just take care of my baby while I’m gone. I miss him already.”

  She flings a hand nonchalantly. “He’ll be fine. When he is better, I will take him to the beach and to see the clowns in the square.”

  I bump her affectionately. “Lucky for you he’s not afraid of clowns.”

  She chuckles as we make it to the end of the shortest check-in line. Elsa faces me with a thoughtful expression and sighs deeply. “Do you have your travel documents?”

  I tap my purse. “In here.”

  “I am so sorry you must return under such grim circumstances.”

  I press my lips together. “Me too.”

  “You will call me if you need me?”

  “I will.”

  We hug, and I watch Elsa until she’s out of sight. I feel as if I’m leaving Aiden in good hands. I hate that he woke up this morning with a runny nose and fever. I’m sure Nolan, Abby, and my other relatives want to see how big and so very cute he’s gotten. He truly is a beauty. They’re just going to have to fly out and visit us instead.

  Soon I’m boarding my first flight, which is to Rome. I sit near the front. Jeez, I hate flying with European airlines. They have the worst aircrafts. Just as I thought, once we’re in the air, the plane roars, shakes, dips, and dives. I pray at least five times before we land. The good news is that I don’t have a long layo
ver in Rome, which is not at all common.

  One hour later, I’m on a nice, comfortable, American-owned aircraft. I try to sleep for the better part of the ten-hour flight, but I’m tormented by my thoughts. If I had never married John, then my dad would be alive. I would sacrifice my left arm, my right foot, and both my eyes for a do-over.

  The flight attendant serves me the shrimp scampi and halibut dinner I selected. After eating, I decide it’s best not to sleep or think, so I binge-watch the TV shows from America that I missed out on while living abroad, as well as watching one and a half very bad movies.

  Finally my flight lands in O’Hare. My head throbs as I deplane and clear customs. I’m finally able to get some sleep on my third and final flight to Minneapolis. This time, when it’s time to disembark, my head is woozy. However, there’s something familiar in the air. It’s the scent of home—stirred in the summertime humidity and heat. I’m not sure how I feel about that, and I’m too exhausted to figure it out.

  I can hardly keep my eyes open as I trudge down to baggage claim. Nolan and Abby are supposed to meet me there. I should probably call them, but at the moment, my battered brain can only do one thing at a time, and right now it’s doing two things. Firstly, it’s keeping me from crying. All my heartache from Gianfranco and anger at John wants to consume me. Secondly, I must focus on the carousel, so I don’t miss my luggage. I’m so out of it that I’m not sure I’ll even recognize my suitcase when I see it.

  “Liza!” my brother says jubilantly.

  The carousel starts just as I turn around to see Nolan and Abby waving while walking in my direction.

  Tears rush to my eyes again. They look so happy. When Nolan wraps his arms around me, I feel as though everything will be just fine.

  “Missed you,” I say and kiss his scruffy cheek.

  “Missed you too,” Nolan says.

  I hug Abby, then put my hand on her belly. “Four months?”

  “Four and a half,” she says.

  “Which one is yours?” Nolan asks, motioning to the revolving carousel.

  Abby’s arm is still around my waist, and I can’t stop smiling. All of my negative feelings have been momentarily replaced by the excitement of knowing that Abby will soon be my sister-in-law.

  “Large. Burgundy leather. Big white L in the front.”

  “There it goes,” Nolan says.

  “So you really didn’t bring the baby?” Abby asks.

  “No, he has an ear infection. Poor thing would’ve been miserable.”

  Abby’s eyes sparkle. “Then you’ll bring him to the wedding?”

  “Of course, darling,” I say.

  She chuckles. “Darling? You’re becoming European, and I love it.” She kisses my cheek. “And I love the haircut.”

  “Yeah, it suits you,” Nolan says as he grabs my luggage, then hugs me again. “Jeez, it’s good to see you, sis. How are you?”

  I embrace him tightly. “Better now that I’m with you.”

  We move out of the cluster of people securing their luggage and head out to short-term parking. Nolan opens the trunk and puts my suitcase in it.

  “Abby and I were hoping you would stay with us tonight?” he says.

  I sigh with relief. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “And I made dinner. Good old-fashioned meatloaf and potatoes.”

  “Ah, the accoutrements of home.”

  Nolan skips around to open the back door for me, then the front door for Abby. That’s one great thing about my brother; he will always and forever be a gentleman.

  “By the way, Liza, you look tired, but you look good,” Nolan says. “Italy is agreeing with you.”

  I get in. “Thanks.”

  He closes my door, then Abby’s. Soon we’re driving out of the airport. The landscape is infused with green. Instead of ocean air, the scent of the river is all around us. The way I feel about seeing the roads and scenes I thought I would never leave is strange.

  “Tomorrow I’m driving out to see John,” I say.

  “Are you sure you want to go see that bastard?” Nolan says bitingly. His tone is a dead giveaway that his hatred for John has intensified.

  "I think I need to see him,” I say.

  “Why is that?” His eyes shift between looking at me through the rearview mirror and looking at the road.

  I can’t stop the tears from rolling out of my eyes. “Because it’s my fault.”

  He grimaces. “What’s your fault?”

  I close my eyes and rub them. “If I had never married John, then Dad wouldn’t be dead.”

  “No…” Abby says sympathetically.

  “That’s a ridiculous thing to believe,” Nolan says at the same time.

  “It’s the truth,” I say, feeling sorrier for myself.

  “He’s a slithery guy who preyed upon your kind heart, sis. That’s all.”

  I sniff and take the tissue Abby hands me over the seat. “Thank you,” I say to her.

  She’s still facing me. “You’re welcome, and really, it’s not your fault.”

  By the look in her eyes, I can see that she realizes I don’t believe her. I press my lips together.

  “Liza, Dad was sick and he didn’t tell us,” Nolan says carefully. “John knew how sick Dad was and didn’t tell you or me. He’s a fucking snake in the grass who took advantage of a bad situation.”

  “I know.” I sniffle.

  “No, you don’t know. Dad had already had his first heart attack. That landed him in the hospital. He had been losing his mind and hiding it from us. John knew it all. So when Dad was down for the count, John and his little black widow nurse, who administered the illegal euthanasia drugs, took him out.”

  “John was more like the black widow,” Abby says.

  “In the way that he used women to get what he wanted,” Nolan says.

  I listen to Nolan talk about his revenge as he drives over the bridge and into downtown. The modernity draws my eyes to the towering buildings. Bari is antique and regal. The river sparkles under the sunlight. He’s been in Minneapolis, running the whole company, and even expanding, while fighting the legal battles against the banks that allowed John to take advantage of my father. He’s brought charges against two banks and the doctor. They tried to play the victim, but their acts didn’t affect him and he made sure they didn’t sway the judges or his lawyers. He went for the jugular.

  “Those people are the ones responsible for hurting Dad, not you, mouse,” he says.

  My dad gave me the nickname 'mouse'. I earned it from being quiet and delicate, like a church mouse. I never rocked the boat. I smiled when I should’ve raged. I laughed when I should’ve cried. I don’t think I’m a mouse anymore. John and Salvatore changed me, although I have no idea what I’ve become. I’m certainly not a lioness. Perhaps I’m nothing other than a woman who’s found her voice, found her life. I’ll know the answer as soon as I face John.

  Nolan still lives in his downtown high-rise condo. He lived in Chicago when he bought it for two reasons—the building is part of the company’s investment portfolio, and he wanted a place near the office for whenever he had to be in Minneapolis. Now with a baby on the way, I wonder if he’s going to keep up the sleek bachelor’s lifestyle.

  He parks in a special space for the penthouse resident, and he even has a private elevator that only opens to his apartment, which I always thought was very cool. Abby left the meatloaf and potatoes to stay warm in the gourmet chef’s oven. When dinner is served and we’re around the table, the meatloaf is still moist and the potatoes piping hot.

  “Wow, Abby,” I say after taking my second bite of meatloaf. “Did you really cook this?”

  She smiles. “Yep.”

  “What can’t you do?”

  She laughs and jokes, “Nothing.”

  That’s what I remember most about working with Abby—she has the best sense of humor.

  “So how’s it been going with Gianfranco Guardi?” Abby asks before I can ask her about
school. She was so impressed when she learned I was involved with such a famous artist. She even asked about the progression of Fixation and explained why it’s so famous.

  I knew that Gianfranco came from a long line of prolific artists who had gone mad. Leonardo Guardi was one of them. He was a royal artist in the eighteenth century. Apparently Fixation is a fusion of one of Leonardo Guardi’s unfinished works and Gianfranco’s new masterpiece. Everyone is on pins and needles waiting for the unveiling. The painting is supposed to go to auction, but no one really knows what it looks like.

  “He has a wife,” I say.

  Abby gasps.

  “A wife?” Nolan says.

  “I met her yesterday at his castle—naked.”

  Nolan grimaces. “And where was he?”

  “Out.

  “Out where?”

  I sigh. The more questions I answer about this, the angrier I become. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, have you spoken to him and asked if this woman is his wife?”

  “No. Why?” I snap.

  He shrugs. “Remember, I was married to Kelsey. Taking off her clothes and saying she’s a guy’s wife, when she’s not, is something she would do.”

  “Well, that woman wasn’t Kelsey.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” My headache has returned, so I rub my temples.

  “It’s okay, Nolan,” Abby says, which is a polite way of telling him to drop it.

  “Sorry. I’m just really jet-lagged, and tomorrow is going to be stressful,” I say.

  Nolan sighs sharply. “Listen, I’m just trying to help. When we talked a few weeks ago, you sounded happy, and so did Aiden. By the way, where are those pictures?”

  Even though I wanted to pass out from exhaustion a minute ago, I get my cell phone to show them pictures. I'd turned it off before I left for the airport yesterday, and as I power it on now, the device beeps and buzzes. Gianfranco has left me a number of messages and texts. I ignore them, yawn, stretch my aching body, and hurry back into the dining room to show Nolan and Abby the photos we took during our travels. Gianfranco is in just about all of them.

 

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