He had a choice to make. Would he stick with his plan to tell Viola before Paul and risk that she’d still give Paul the paintings—and possibly expose his secret? Or would he surrender to Paul’s plan? Wouldn’t that be easier? Cleaner? Although, he had no guarantee Paul wouldn’t run his impetuous mouth just for the heck of it.
Besides, if he confirmed to Paul just how much he needed this, there was a chance Paul would dig until he connected the dots. “I’m not buying your silence, Smythe.”
“Well, that’s too bad. I’m sure Viola would love to know.”
“What would I love to know exactly?” Viola asked behind them.
Chapter Ten
No amount of daytime soap opera reruns could ever have prepared Alice for this. She squared her shoulders as Viola marched into the room, looking regal in a red gown adorned with golden beads.
“Viola. We were just talking about you. I discovered something I think you won’t be the least pleased about,” Paul started, his melodious voice smooth as satin. “Yet I can’t seem to hold it in.”
“Alice works for me as my nanny. Paul found out and was blackmailing me so you wouldn’t know,” Lorenzo said, his voice steady, but the stare he darted at Paul was deadly.
Tension crackled in the library.
A part of Alice encouraged him to tell the truth. Even though the truth was also painful. He had been clear in the bedroom, hadn’t he? Their relationship was temporary. Her stomach clenched. Well, no one could accuse the man of sugar-coating, that was for sure.
They all zoomed in on Viola, anticipating her reaction. The Italian woman narrowed her eyes as if trying to decide something in her head. Alice heard the sound of her own intake of breath. She knew Lorenzo would still pay her but worried for him. After he had told her what getting the paintings back meant… She shuffled from foot to foot.
“You lied to me,” Viola said to Lorenzo.
“Yes. I didn’t want the pool incident to overshadow the main thing. What’s important. I’m the best person to buy the paintings from you.”
“And you, Paul, blackmailed him.” Viola faced the British man.
Paul blushed, and for a moment his cheeks matched the color of his suit. “It wasn’t proper blackmailing. I was trying to get him to tell you the truth. I don’t think you should be doing business with someone who lies about something as basic as a relationship status. What else is he hiding? He already hinted to me he wasn’t forthcoming about his plans for the paintings.”
“And you, Alice? Anything to say?” Viola said to her.
Oh, shit. A wave of embarrassment washed over her. “I’m sorry. I went along with Lorenzo’s story.” Because a part of me wished it was true. But she couldn’t say it out loud, especially in front of Lorenzo. How humiliating would it be to admit to your soon-to-be-former-boss you’ve had an unrequited crush on him for months? And he never gave her a passing glance, even though she had been right under his nose. “What I did was wrong. If I could explain it to you in private—”
With a mocking laugh, Paul stepped forward, hands in his pockets. “Why not in front of all of us, Alice? Since we’re coming clean.”
“Some things are personal,” Alice answered, proud at the nonchalance in her voice. She kept her attention on Viola, whose blank expression gave nothing away.
Ugh. Viola probably hated her now, and how could she blame her? How could she expect anything else?
Viola tapped her heels on the polished floor. Paul opened his mouth to speak, but Viola lifted her hand, gesturing for him to be quiet. “My party will not be turned into a testosterone contest. Tomorrow morning I will talk to all of you, separately, and will announce my decision by lunchtime. If you want a shot at the paintings, I strongly advise you not to bring up what happened here or this subject during the party.” That was not a request.
With a sigh, Viola strode out of the room.
Paul followed right after.
“Should we go see what he’s doing?” Alice tilted her head in the direction of the door. “Maybe he’s going to try to talk to her anyway.”
He thrust his fingers in his hair. “Which will only set him back. Leaving him loose may be the best strategy at this point. Our strategy is to talk to her tomorrow, when she’s clear headed.”
Maybe he was right. “What should we do?”
He linked his arm to hers. “We enjoy the party.”
“Alice! Where did you find this dress?” Cassandra, who wanted to buy a couple vintage pieces from Viola’s extensive jewelry collection, asked. “It’s divine!”
Alice let go of Lorenzo’s arm. God. Was she supposed to say she didn’t find one in her size? “It’s a collaboration. Dolce & Gabbana & Sommers.”
Cassandra threw her head back and let out a laugh. “Nice work, darling. You watch out for this one, Lorenzo.” Cassandra, who obviously had had one too many drinks, nudged his elbow.
“That’s what I’ve been doing,” he answered, but he contemplated Alice in such a way it pierced right through her skin and squeezed the air from her lungs.
Oh God. What the hell was she doing? All of this mess would end in less than twenty-four hours. There was so much she wanted to do, to say—
And she’d never get the chance. Not if she knew what was good for her.
She tried to trap Joshua into a relationship he wasn’t ready for. And he had never been married and had no kids. Changing Lorenzo’s stubborn ways would be a task not even a team of Freud-trained shrinks could master. Nope. The man was a sexy stick-in-the-filthy-mud.
Besides, did she really want the false hope of him being genuinely interested in her? Beyond the sexual attraction and her nanny skills? What good would that do?
“Alice,” he called, his rich voice yanking her from her thoughts. She realized Cassandra had moved on to talking to someone else.
“Yes?” She blinked. The salon exuded a completely different atmosphere than the previous night. Several shades of red colored the accents in the area, from the lush table linens to the heavy drapes and the candles. She breathed in the scent of spiced apple and sighed. “This is beautiful.” Like Valentine’s Day on acid.
Lorenzo rested his hand on the small of her back, his warmth seeping through the fabric. “You know, Cassandra wasn’t the only woman to compliment your dress tonight. You did a great job.”
She shrugged. “Thanks.”
A waitress came their way with a golden tray filled with flutes containing a sparkly red liquid. While Lorenzo shook his head, she accepted one of them. No matter what he had said about working things out the next day, her nerves were still on high alert.
“Have you ever considered studying fashion, or trying for an internship or something?”
She lifted the drink to her lips and marveled at the fancy booze coating her throat. A spiked cherry lemonade. Tangy and fruity, with a dry finish. “I had to quit college to help out at home.”
He stretched to his full height, taking his hands off her. “Is this how the rest of your life will play out? You always putting your family first?”
“Why does it matter to you? You’ll be packing up to leave.”
“You should do the same. Alice, New York is the mother of fashion. I’m not a stylist, but I know a lot of influential people with contacts.”
“How can you encourage me to move to New York City to be your nanny and try a completely different career at the same time?” Something didn’t add up. Why did he act like she mattered so much to him at times—like her life and her future also mattered—then remind her with capital letters that she was just the nanny?
“It may take a while for you to get acquainted with the industry. You can study and hone your craft while Cara is in school. By the time you land yourself a job in the city, we’ll be better settled. And Cara will be at school, with friends, more adapted. It will be easier for her to say good-bye to you.”
How thoughtful. He would move her all the way to New York City to get Cara settled, and then say good-b
ye. How about for her? How hard would it be for her? “You tell me my family runs my life, but aren’t you trying to do just the same?”
“This is different. A win-win.”
Her purse buzzed. She retrieved her cell and found eight missed calls from Mom, and two from Georgia. She listened to the voicemail, a strange sensation in her gut spreading acid in her stomach. Something wasn’t right. Her mother wouldn’t call and pay expensive international fees unless there was real immediate danger.
Buck. What if he had gone to the house? No. He wouldn’t, would he? Wake up, Alice. The man is a criminal. Morals aren’t part of his vocabulary.
“Alice. Hi. Rachel tried to kill herself, and she’s been taken to the hospital. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just had to vent with someone. To say it out loud,” her mother started, her voice urgent and congested as if she’d been crying. “Poor Brenda…”
Alice gripped the cell in her hand. She wished she could squeeze it so tight, it would disintegrate within her fingertips, and with it, all of her problems. Her problems. What a selfish thing to think. She willed the thought away. “I have to…I have to go back to Austin. My sister has tried to kill herself, and my mother can’t handle everything. Sorry.”
Lorenzo drew back in silence for the quickest moment, as if he tried to absolve what she had just said. “I’m coming with you,” he said without a blink.
“No. You don’t have to. You can stay. Hell, you have to stay. You need your opportunity to talk to Viola tomorrow.”
“Screw Viola. Your sister is in the hospital. I’m arranging the flight. Let’s go back to the house and grab our belongings. I’ll leave a note for Viola and have the butler give it to her. Follow me.”
Follow him? Within the next thirty minutes, Alice did just that. They grabbed their belongings; he called the airline and made reservations. He handwrote a note to Viola explaining what happened and gave it to Rogerio. She quivered as she changed from the lavish red dress into a pair of slacks and black top. He also slipped into casual clothes: a pair of dark denim pants and a green shirt.
Alice had called her mother and assured her she was on the way. Rachel had overdosed on prescription pills, and they were pumping her stomach. The doctors were hopeful she would be okay.
“I called a friend of mine who is married to one of the best doctors in Austin. He’ll review her chart and pay her a visit in the morning,” Lorenzo said before they buckled in for the flight.
She blinked. “Thanks. Really.”
What else could she say? She was used to him bossing her around about anything related to Cara, and even about the charade of this trip. That was normal. But for him to take charge when it came to her family affairs? Strange. Unusual. And, a wishful part of her whispered, nice.
Although she shouldn’t let that kind of useless optimism sweep her off her feet. Now with Rachel’s suicide attempt, her family needed her more than ever. There was no way she could go to New York with him. And that hurt more than a little.
During the entire flight and after Gordon picked them up from the airport and drove them to the hospital, Lorenzo second-guessed his decision. Why was he getting involved? It would have been much more practical to have stayed in Capri. By now slimy Paul Smythe would have invented whatever version of the story he chose to, and Viola could view Lorenzo leaving the property as him not wanting the paintings badly enough, or throwing in the towel. If he had stayed, he would have been able to explain his side of the story to Viola. Not anymore.
He itched to have his say. Yet he paced along the clean floors, with the scent of antiseptic clinging to the air. Alice kept at his side, striding toward the waiting room. A part of him that made no sense hadn’t allowed him to let her return to Austin without him. It didn’t matter why or how his leaving Viola’s would impact him.
Maybe he simply wanted to help because he wasn’t able to help Kristin. The image of finding Kristin’s body on the other side of the bed, so lifeless and pale, flashed through his mind.
He would have done more for Kristen if he had known. He hadn’t. She had struggled for years with addiction, and in the end, her kidneys just couldn’t handle it anymore.
“There they are,” Alice whispered, picking up her pace and heading to the area that consisted of a few chairs, couches, a TV, and an overflowing magazine rack. A petite woman with red hair rose from her seat. Alice’s mother. There was also a child who wore glasses and had her brown hair braided to the side.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Her mother rushed to give Alice a hug, and he didn’t miss the dark circles under her eyes. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Mom, don’t sweat it. How is she?”
“She’s good now. Resting. They’ll keep watching her, but they think the stomach pumping was successful.” Her mother turned to him. Her eyebrows shot up, and she fluffed her short hair. “Mr. Baldi? I thought you had business in Italy?”
“I just wanted to come and make sure everything was okay. I’ll have Rachel transferred to a suite, and a doctor I trust will see her in the morning to make sure she’s being well taken care of.”
Her mother blinked. “I—I don’t know what to say. Thank you. By the way, I’m Judy.” She stretched out her hand.
“Nice to meet you. Call me Lorenzo.” He gave her a quick, firm handshake and eyed the little girl. “Hi, Brenda.”
He had seen her a few times when Alice had brought her over to play with Cara. The two kids seemed to get along well, even though Brenda was younger than his daughter.
“Hi, Mr. Baldi.”
He ruffled the top of her head and flashed her the friendliest smile he could come up with. Poor girl. He saw confusion and sadness in her eyes. He knew what she was going through. She went back to playing with something on her tablet.
“Is she okay?” Alice whispered to her mom.
“She cried for a bit. Hospitals aren’t exactly fun for children. But her best friend’s mom offered to take her for a sleepover and will bring her to school tomorrow.”
“Good. She could use some distraction,” Alice said.
So could you. Alice had barely eaten anything during the flight, and she had been economical with her words, too. Even though he had been next to her the entire time, it was almost as if reality had hit them both in the face. They were back in the United States. They were back to their lives. No more fooling around.
Was this the type of life that she had to look forward to? Always dropping everything for her family and never achieving anything of her own? He cleared his throat. Sure, he was probably a selfish bastard for wanting her around to make his life easier, too. But at least in his plan, she would get something out of going to New York with him. Something for herself.
“Do you want me to get you anything to eat or drink?” he asked them.
Judy shook her head, and Alice said, “No thanks.”
“Alice, you haven’t eaten all day.”
A nurse walked up to them, holding a chart. “She’s ready to see you, if you’d like. One guest at a time, please.”
“Mom, can I?” Alice asked.
Judy gestured for her to go ahead. “Of course. I saw her not that long ago. Go ahead, honey.”
She followed the nurse, then stopped midway and glanced over her shoulder at him. It was a quick, unsure stare of someone who needed the kind of reassurance he wasn’t sure he could offer. He gave her a nod and mouthed, “I’ll be waiting.” They hadn’t talked about the logistics. Should he say good-bye and go back to his house? It’s not like she needed a ride home. At this point, there wasn’t anything else he could do. Her sister was stable and medicated.
“Thanks for bringing her,” Judy said.
“Of course.”
“She always says great things about you.”
He winked at her. “All lies.”
Finally, a smile formed on her face, and he could see the resemblance to Alice. The same high cheeks and kind eyes. “She’s a good liar.”
He
jammed his hands in his pocket and stared at the floor. The understatement of the year. If she hadn’t been so good at it, she wouldn’t have convinced Viola that they were a couple. At least before Smythe came into play and spoiled it.
Before he wondered too much, Alice returned. The expression on her face had softened, even though the puffiness in her eyes hinted at recent tears.
“The nurse said Rachel will sleep through the night. God, what time is it?” She yawned. Italy was several hours ahead, and he was sure she’d feel jet lagged soon. “Tomorrow morning the psychiatric team will come for an assessment. She’ll be fine, Mom.”
A sigh of relief left Judy’s lips. Her shoulders sagged a notch. “Good. You should go home and sleep.”
“I can stay the night.”
“No. If it’s okay, I would rather you take Brenda to her friend’s now, for the sleepover. I can stay the night. But tomorrow, if you wouldn’t mind taking the reins during the day…”
“No problem.”
“I’ll give you girls a ride,” he offered, stepping in as if there was not any other option. All the while from the ride to Brenda’s friend’s place and afterward, he questioned his solicitous behavior. Yet, annoying as it was to not have answers, he realized he couldn’t not give Alice his assistance. After all, the type of care she gave Cara went far beyond monetary compensation. “We’re going to my place, Gordon.” He instructed his driver through the intercom.
Alice frowned. “What? Why?”
“I don’t think you should be alone tonight. You’re exhausted, jet legged, and stressed out. Come back to my place. You can have a hot bath, and I’ll order some Chinese.”
“I need to wake up early tomorrow to be at the hospital.”
“You will. I promise,” he said. At this point, that was the only promise he could offer.
A Weekend of Misbehaving Page 13