by A. Hargrove
That's not a bad idea. If we moved to America, I’d tell Gabriele it was an easier name for people to remember. When he was older, I would tell him the truth.
“I'll speak to our attorney and see how difficult it is to do it. If I can have it done before I move or even apply for a new position, that would be best.”
My father agreed. How did one terrible mistake end up costing me so much? The one thing I'd never regret though was getting Gabriele out of it. He was and will always be everything to me.
Chapter Seven
Piper
When my classes ended on Wednesday, I was pooped. Cooking was out, so I went to this great market nearby. What I loved about it the most was it not only had a great variety of foods, but it also sold cooked entrees you could take home to eat. Being lazy and exhausted, it fell in line with exactly what I needed today.
I was pushing my little cart around the aisles, tossing things into it, and stopped to check out some delicious looking cookies. I hesitated for a moment but then decided, what the heck. I was still reading the label on the box and pushing my cart when I ran right into someone. That someone happened to be Alessandro. Destiny seemed to continually put him in my path.
“Excuse me.”
“You ought to watch where you're walking.”
It wasn't clear if he meant it to be snarky, but it rubbed me the wrong way. “Maybe you shouldn't be messing with single women on planes seeing as you're a married man.”
First, his mouth clamped shut. But then his eyes narrowed and he drew in a sharp breath. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Don't pretend to be innocent with me.” I wanted to punch his perfectly handsome face, and then break his sexy glasses in half. Ooh, he made me so furious, standing there acting virtuous.
“I am innocent because I have no idea what it is you're saying. No, that's not correct. You don't know what you're saying. Not that it's your business.” His tone was curt.
I hissed back at him, “It is too my business, after the way you touched me.”
His lips pressed together and a tiny muscle ticked in his jaw. “I didn't hear you complaining. In fact, the way you moaned indicated you loved it. If you ask me, it wouldn't have taken much to get you to drop your pants so I could've fucked you on that flight. By the way, you didn't even bother to ask if I was married, did you, Ms. West?” he clipped. Come to think of it, I hadn’t, even after I’d seen the rings he’d worn. He didn’t have to rub that in.
My nostrils flared and I turned into a raging bull ready to burst from its pen. “Why you...”
“I took exactly what was offered to me. And if I remember correctly, you kindly reciprocated. Is that what you do to every man you sit next to on planes?” he snarled.
Of all the … I raised my hand for a moment, then dropped it. He was so infuriating and had just made me feel lower than a slut. I’d never been so insulted in my life.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Don't threaten me.”
“That was not a threat. You wouldn't know a threat if it bit you on the arse.”
“Speaking of asses, you are the biggest I’ve ever met.”
“It's arse. When in Rome...” He had the nerve to waggle his fucking attractive brows.
“We are not in Rome.”
“No, but we are in the U.K. Maybe you should pick up some of their manners while you're here.”
I sucked in a breath at his insult. “Oh, my God. How did I ever think you were nice? Are you always this rude?”
“Only when the company demands it. Good day.” He walked away, leaving me to seethe. What a jerk. My feet were cemented to the floor, I was that pissed off. How could he treat me like that?
As I stood there, getting over that distasteful encounter, I heard my name. “Piper, my girl, what's up?”
Just my rotten luck. Sam walked toward me with a stupid grin on his face. What I once thought of as cute and boyish had quickly turned into irritating. He wouldn't cease calling me, even though I’d given him every excuse possible not to see him. Why had I given him my number? I swore I hadn't, but he insisted I had. It didn't matter because he had it now and kept pestering the crap out of me. I stifled a groan as he got near me.
“Hey, Sam.”
“What's going down?”
“Just doing a little shopping.”
“Yeah, same here. Hey, why don't I pop over for dinner tonight?”
“Um, tonight's not good. I have to study.”
He frowned. “You know, if I didn't know better, I would think you were avoiding me. You wouldn't do that to little ole Sam, would you?” Was there an undercurrent of a warning to that question or was that my imagination? What was he up to?
“Of course not. My courses have me swamped with work. And why is it you never seem to have to study?” Now that I thought about it, he never did. He was free all the time.
He shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
“I'm already beginning to research my thesis. What about you?”
He acted like he didn't have a clue. “Nope, I'm just taking a course here and there.”
My instincts told me Sam was full of it. It was high time to get rid of him. The thing was, we were never an item to begin with. How did you dump someone you never dated? God, I could just hear Sylvie and Reynolds laughing their asses off if I told them this.
Yeah, I need to dump this guy. Only we never even went out!
“Piper, my girl, what's going on in that head of yours?” He circled his finger near my head.
“Huh?” I hadn’t been paying attention. And I was not his girl, which he’d labeled me.
He took my chin and held it a little too firmly for my taste. “You're a million miles away.”
“Just thinking. A lot on my mind. I gotta go, Sam.”
“Hey. When will we see each other?”
Never, is what I wanted to say. “I'll call you.”
He scowled and shook his finger at me. “You'd better.”
The fuck! Now I had a kook after me along with a rude as hell professor making me feel like a ho. What next? I paid for my groceries and walked home. I was a little edgy and kept checking over my shoulder. But no Sam in sight. When I got home, I laughed it off. My overreaction to that encounter with him put me on edge. But it had all been for nothing.
After I put my groceries away, I sat down in front of the telly to relax while eating dinner. If it wasn't so late, I'd give Sylvie a call. But with the time change, she'd be asleep by now, and so would Reynolds since she was in school.
After I'd finished dinner, I pulled out my computer and book to get some studying done. I was researching my thesis topic when I thought I heard someone at my front door. I checked the peephole, but no one was there. All the windows and doors were tightly locked and there was a security system in the apartment so I felt safe. Dad told me not to rent a place without one.
Once I settled back into studying, I was deep into reading when I heard a window break and the alarm went off. It frightened me to death, so I also called 999. The police arrived within minutes and found that someone had tried to break into the apartment through the back kitchen door. When the alarm went off, it must've scared them off. There were cameras all over the property. The landlord had been notified as soon as the security system was activated, and he showed up shortly. The police asked him to turn the videos over to them so they could try to find out who did it.
Two days later I received a phone call from the police. They had video footage of the person who had attempted the break-in. However, he was wearing a dark hoodie that hid his entire face, so it was impossible to tell what he looked like. They also never were able to gather any fingerprints. From the videos, they could see that the person had gloves on.
“Don't you think it's strange he or she did this? If they wanted to break in and steal something, why do it when I was here?”
“Ms. West, we've been wondering the same thing. Do you know of anyone who would
want to hurt you?”
The nasty professor came to mind, but I honestly just thought he was a major asswipe. Then I thought of Sam and his weird reaction in the market. So I told them about it.
“Did he do anything else?”
“No, but I swear I never gave him my number. He has it though and I wonder how he got it.”
They wanted his last name, so I gave them all the information on him I had. They told me they'd be in touch when they’d gathered more information.
The next morning was Saturday and I was looking forward to sleeping in. Only there was a small issue with that. My phone rang at six a.m. It was my sister, Sylvie.
“Why are you calling me so early?”
“Oh, crappy doodles. I thought it was six at night.”
“No, and why are you still awake?”
“The boys have a cold and are fussy. They went down at seven, their usual time, but then one woke up and he woke the other one. So now they're both up and that means so are we.”
“It's one in the morning.”
“Don't remind me.” She groaned. I heard Evan in the background singing to the babies.
“Tell your hubby not to quit his day job.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can't you hear him? He's terrible.”
“He is not. He has a lovely voice.” Then she giggled.
“You must be deaf. You've been around him too long. Those poor babies’ ears.”
She snorted. My sister had the most obnoxious snort when she laughed. “God, I miss you, Sylls.”
“I miss you too. So what's going on?”
“Nothing other than the usual. Working on my thesis.” I didn't dare tell her about my little incident. She’d worry to death and never go back to sleep. Then she'd tell Dad and he would be even worse.
“Oh, I remember those days and I don't envy you.”
“I'm sure you don't. I didn't think it'd be this hard.”
“You'll do fine, with your smart brain. You should talk to Evan. He has two master’s.”
“Ugh. How could he stand it?”
“And he did them at the same time.”
“Yeah, no thank you.”
“So, sis, how's the love life? Anything exciting?”
“Not in the least. You know that professor I told you about?”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“I saw him out with his son. Then I ran into him at the grocery store and accused him of cheating on his wife.”
“You what?”
“Yeah, I mean he has a kid...”
“Damn, Pipe, just because someone has a kid doesn't mean they're married.”
That shut me up. I knew that. So then why had I jumped down his throat?
“Pipe, you still there?”
“Yeah. Boy, did I make an ass out of myself.”
“Eh, the next time you see him, apologize.”
“I'm not sure he'll talk to me. Our conversation was pretty heated.”
“It doesn't matter though, does it? I thought you couldn't see him because of the university policy.”
“Yeah, but I don't want the guy to hate me.”
“So then bake him a cake.”
“A cake? Me?”
“Right. Buy him a cake.”
“What's this about a cake?” I heard Evan ask in the background. Sylvie explained what was going on. Evan came on the phone. He liked to put his two cents in. We were close that way.
“Drop off dinner at his house.”
“I have no idea where he lives.”
“Take something to his office then with an apology card.”
“He's going to think I'm seriously bipolar with the way I acted and then I'd be taking a dinner to his office. I don't think so.”
“How about a cake?”
“We're back to cakes then?”
“What guy doesn't love a good cake?” Evan loved cake. I mean he was totally into them.
“Okay. I'm supposed to take him a cake with a nice card about what a whack job I am.”
“Perfect. That will do. And stop acting like a psycho Yank.”
“Right. Thanks for the advice.”
“You know I love you.”
“Back at you, bro. And you two get some sleep, which is what I'm going to do.”
I was going to go back to sleep, but the phone rang again around seven thirty. What the hell was going on with everyone today?
“Hello.”
“Ms. West, this is Detective Chief Inspector Thornton. We have some information we'd like to share with you. Is it okay if we stop by sometime this morning?”
“Sure. What time?”
“Is nine okay?”
“That's fine.” I guess there'll be no sleep in my plans for today.
At nine on the nose, two detectives rang my doorbell. I invited them in and asked if they wanted coffee, to which they declined. I still hadn't gotten the tea thing down.
“So, what's the information you have for me?”
“Your friend, Sam, is not a student at Cambridge, and his real name is not Sam.”
Shivers raced down my spine as a million goosebumps pebbled my skin.
Chapter Eight
Alessandro
I walked into the house with my arms full of grocery bags, swearing up a storm. I kicked the door shut behind me and stomped down the hall into the kitchen where my father and son sat at the table. Usually I was mild-mannered, so when this side of me emerged, they knew something was up.
“Papa, why are you so arrabbiato?”
Cursing under my breath, I said, “Gabriele, English, please.”
“Angry.”
“I am angry because ...” What was I going to tell him. That some lunatic accused me of being married and acted like a complete ass? “Never mind, son. It's a grown-up problem.”
He got out of his chair to help me put the groceries away. When he saw some of the things I'd purchased, his eyes lit up. It took very little to excite him. “Papa, are we going to have this for dinner?” He held up a package of steaks.
“Yes, we are.”
The boy loved red meat and my father chuckled at him.
“Papa, when am I going to be a grown-up?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because you always say it's a grown-up thing. I just want to know when you can tell me.”
Why did he have to be so perceptive? “When you go to university.”
“But, Papa. That's old. Like you.”
My father outright laughed. “You'll be thinking differently then, little one,” he said. “Wait until you get to be your nonno's age. Now that's old.”
“Yeah and I'll have white hair just like you.”
“That's right.”
As they chatted, I got to work on dinner. I had bought the steaks since it would be fast and easy to cook them. My father started on the salad while Gabriele watched. He wasn't allowed to use knives yet.
We had him set the plates and napkins out and then the silverware. Before too long, we were seated and eating.
I had opened a bottle of red wine and we sipped it as we ate. Gabriele had a tiny bit with his dinner, but he scrunched up his mouth with each taste.
“I like Nonna's and Nonno's better. This isn't good.”
“I agree,” I said. “Theirs is much better.”
My father inspected the bottle and said, “This isn't a very good year. That's probably why.”
“The market didn't have a good selection. I have to go to a different shop for better wine. We can do that this weekend.”
I turned to my son and asked, “How was school today?”
“Good. I have a new girlfriend,” he announced with pride. “She has orange hair.”
“Orange? Or do you mean red?”
“It’s orange.”
“And I thought you had one Monday.”
“I did, but she wasn't any fun. She didn't like to kick the ball at playtime. So I switched to this one. Her name is Lilly.”
/> “And Lilly likes to kick the ball?” I asked.
“Yes. And she does it as good as me.”
I glance up at my father to see the twinkle in his eyes.
“Gabriele, Saturday morning you start football.”
“Yeah. Some of the kids at school already play.” He was chomping his food and talking at the same time.
“And Gabriele, what are the rules about talking and eating?”
His hand covered his mouth as he grinned. “I'm not supposed to.”
“That's right. Now finish up that bite and tell me more about your classmates.”
It ended up being one long sentence about Henry, George, Arthur, Oliver, Jacob, Noah, Freddie, Louie, and those were the ones I could remember. He rattled on and on about how they all loved football but some of them like to play cricket too. He wasn't very fond of that game because it was too boring. According to Gabriele, you only got to run when someone hit the ball and he didn't like that very much. And then the conversation switched to girls and how pretty they all were. It was hard to choose a girlfriend but the deciding factor for him was how well they could kick the ball.
Then out of nowhere, he asked, “Papa, are you going to bring me home another mama?”
“Why do you ask me that?”
“Because most of the boys talk about their mamas and I'd like to talk about mine. I told them I had one, but she didn't live here and I'm not allowed to visit her. I want a mama I can visit and talk to. I thought if you brought one home for me it would be better that way. Besides, you need one too.”
“I already have a mama.”
“But you don't have a...a what do they call it?”
My father stuck his two cents into the conversation. “A wife. He needs a wife.”
“Yes, Nonno. Papa needs a wife.”
“I agree, piccolino.”
“See, Papa, even Nonno says so.”
I scowled at my father. That was the last thing I needed or wanted. It would only add more complications to what I already dealt with. “I do, huh?”