Dirty Secrets

by Drummond, Lonaire

  “Let’s just order. What do you suggest?” She remembered how carefully he had explained the menu to her in St. Lucia.

  “What can I say? Everything is good,” he said.

  Adele ordered ravioli for her first course and chicken with roasted potatoes for her second with Robynne following suit. If expectancy was a drink, they all sipped on it eagerly, waiting for someone to address the elephant in the room.

  Forks scraped China and ice rumbled inside glasses. With caution, Adele placed ravioli in her mouth; subsequently, dropping a dollop of sauce on her chin.

  “Perhaps we should have given you a bib?” His gaze dropped to the tomato sauce on her face.

  “Why are you acting this way? Cocky, yes, but an asshole?” Adele abandoned all grace taught to her by her mother by wiping at her sauce-stained cheek with her finger.

  “My apologies. It seems as though I cannot control my tongue around you. Maybe I can express myself better in private,” he said.

  “I’ve had enough of this. I can’t watch him treat you this way.” Robynne had gotten a hold of Adele’s elbow, intent on yanking her out of her seat.

  “It’s not a good time. You must understand. Business…Felicità,” he said.

  “You just said she was fine,” Adele said.

  “Did I?”

  “Why did I come here?” Adele’s hopelessness cast a shadow over her face.

  “I’ve been asking myself that very same question,” he said.

  A momentary lapse in judgment, similar to the one that brought Adele to Italy in the first place, propelled water from a well-aimed glass into Ambrogio’s face.

  Robynne clapped. Adele stalked off and Cesare appeared out of nowhere with a towel in hand.

  Between the fevered clicking of her heels against the marble, Adele heard Ambrogio bark at Cesare to find them a driver. Them. He hadn’t said the word with any anger. In fact, his tone was quite even, yet the sting of that particular pronoun raised welts on Adele’s skin like a strike from a belt.

  Stoic, Adele ignored Cesare’s knocking on the car’s window, only to come face to face with him when the driver let the window down.

  “You should wear a cow bell or something.” Robynne said.

  “Mr. Argentero would like you to take this scarf,” Cesare said.

  Adele took the blue and white silk scarf from the assistant’s hand, determined to fling it back into his face. “He cannot buy me off. I’m not a whore.”

  “He has no intention of buying you off. None of Mr. Argentero’s women leave La Borgata without a souvenir.

  Adele closed the window in Cesare’s face. The momentary satisfaction she gained from the insult wasn’t filling.

  Robynne wrenched the scarf out Adele’s hand. “It’s silk.”

  “So,” Adele said.

  Robynne rubbed the material across her face. “It feels like heaven.”

  Adele left La Borgata an inconsolable mess. Back at the hotel, Adele packed her bags.

  Chapter 24

  “I’m not leaving.” For every item of clothing Adele placed into her suitcase, Robynne removed two.

  “I’m not staying. It’s like Ambrogio split into two people. I met the sexy, alpha male with the heart of gold in St. Lucia, and his evil twin here. I just want to go home. You can stay,” Adele said.

  “When I slap the taste out of your mouth, know I’m doing it out of love. Ambrogio isn’t the only game in town. We’re in Italy. There’s a million Ambrogio’s here. We’re not leaving. You owe me a vacation. Remember the cruise?” Robynne overturned the contents of Adele’s suitcase onto the bed.

  The morning greeted Adele with her eyes practically swollen shut. She took it as a sign and voiced her desire to leave to an unmoved Robynne. Forced to get up, shower, drink an espresso and eat a Brioche (a tiny piece of pastry which passed for breakfast in Europe), Adele sulked all the way to the Santa Maria Novella train station in the center of the city.

  “Your eyes look much better. I told you slathering a handful of cold cream on each eye would make the swelling go down.” Robynne said.

  Adele grunted, not feeling like talking at the moment.

  “You need to forget Ambrogio. Look around, enjoy the sights. We’re in Florence for fuck’s sake.”

  “How can I forget him when your wearing the scarf he gave me as a get-the-fuck out-of-my-life present.”

  “It does look good on me doesn’t it? Don’t get any ideas. Now, can we have some fun?”

  Adele knew that although she was very annoying, her friend was right. They had made it to the train station without getting lost once. A feat they celebrated by eating gelato.

  Adele and Robynne marveled at the modern design of the station, which stood out amongst the gothic architecture of the surrounding buildings. Adele was most astonished with it’s impressive metal and glass roof.

  She wondered how the skylights appear to be suspended by nothing more than a wish and a prayer. The red and white striped marble gleamed with pride as it reflected the light from above. The global conglomerate, McDonald’s, was just one of the many storefront’s vying for traveler’s money.

  Despite it’s refreshingly open air design, Adele felt confined, trapped in her own mind. Ambrogio, her captor, prevented Adele from enjoying her surroundings. She cursed the day he was born.

  Robynne stomped her foot like an irate kindergartener. “You’re pity party for one is raining on my parade.”

  “I can’t help it,” Adele said.

  “According to this pamphlet, Santa Maria Novella has a memorial here in honor of the Jews deported from Italy during the War. Let’s go see it,” Robynne said.

  “No, you go ahead. I’ll wait for our guide. We’re supposed to meet him in front of the pharmacy. I don’t want to miss him. I’ll call you on your cell when he gets here.”

  “I know your hurting, but you can’t let Ambrogio ruin your life or my trip.” Robynne said.

  “I’m nursing a broken heart. You could at least offer me some friendly advice,” Adele said.

  Robynne rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hip. “You want some friendly advice, well, here goes. Ambrogio’s an asshole. Guess what? Some guys are scum of the earth. You haven’t met your quota yet, believe me. At least you didn’t marry him or catch him screwing your bitch of a boss. You don’t have the monopoly on pain or suffering. I suggest you suck it up, go do some pushups, and enjoy yourself.”

  “I’m sorry. I think I just need to be alone. I will cry, get it out of my system, and tomorrow we can start this trip over.” Adele said.

  “What about the tour? Since you booked it using your credit card, you are the lead adult, I’m just the plus one. What if they won’t let me take the tour?” Robynne re-tied Adele’s scarf around her neck.

  Adele reached into her purse, pulling out the printed reservation for the tour.

  “Problem solved. Just give the tour guide this and say you’re Adele. If he asks for an ID, say you forgot it at the hotel, but the trick is to bat your eyes and push out your breasts while you’re saying it.” Adele said.

  “You had a bail-out plan hatched, I see,” Robynne said.

  “No, I just can’t do it today.”

  “Fine, you owe me one. We’re going to do something embarrassingly touristy tomorrow,” Robynne said.

  “Ok. Did you bring your ID?”

  “No, I forgot it at the hot—?” Robynne grabbed the print-out.

  “See, typical dumb tourist,” Adele said.

  “You’re pushing it.”

  Adele returned to the hotel alone: exhausted from the excessive walking, the Ambrogio doldrums, and the world’s most persistent allergy attack.

  Chapter 25

  A vivid dream involving Ambrogio and some whipped cream had Adele tossing and turning in bed. Now on her side, she tried to sleep again, only to be frightened by a grinning Ambrogio. Adele smacked him dead center in the forehead. It hadn’t been her intention, but she was quite pleased with the r
esult, nonetheless.

  “You’re sexy when you sleep.” He rubbed his reddening forehead.

  “Get out. If you hadn’t guessed earlier, I never want to see you again,” Adele said.

  He grabbed her and pinned down her arms. “You never gave me a proper greeting, so I came to collect what was owed to me.”

  “Get off me.” She felt helpless against his wall-like embrace.

  Adele nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, noticing how even his scent had change in Italy. The clean freshness of the ocean was gone. She bit into his skin, and when he let her loose, she ran.

  Down a set of gilded steep stairs, Adele ran through a sitting room filled with dusty old antique furniture, and then straight into the lobby where nameless faces stared at her.

  “Leave me alone.” Adele said.

  “Is there a problem?” A man accompanied by his wife’s his wife and child said.

  “Do you see a problem here,” Ambrogio reached into his breast pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and inhaled deeply.

  “Mr. Argentero, nice to see you. Have a good day,” he said scurried off with his family in tow.

  “You can’t smoke in here? “ Adele said

  “I can smoke anywhere I please.” He flicked ash onto the floor.

  “Apparently, why do people quake with fear around you? You know what, I don’t care. Just leave me alone.” Adele went outside.

  “I was fully prepared to leave you alone. It was you who followed me, remember.” He followed her outside.

  “And I couldn’t be more sorry. It was you who followed me to my hotel after I threw my drink in your face,” Adele said.

  She watched a motorcyclist maneuver his way up a sidewalk and around a delivery truck.

  “Such a pity for such a beautiful woman to be so desperate,” he said.

  A strong gust of wind sent goosebumps down her arms. Their words were temporarily drowned out by the rumble of a delivery truck ambling down the street. Ambrogio stepped in the street and closer to her so he could hear.

  “You followed my desperate ass back to this hot—,”

  A screeching vehicle careened down the street—it’s intended target, Adele. The approaching headlights rendered her immobile. With her words cowering in her throat and her eyes closed, she braced herself for the impact. It never came. Instead, she felt herself being lifted and then tossed like a rag doll. The concrete broke her fall. She groaned in response to throbbing in head.

  “Cara, stai bene? Adele?” A familiar voice said from somewhere above her.

  A weight shifted off of her, making it easier to breathe. Adele could only raise her head a few inches without her headache intensifying. Her eyes focused on two sets of finely crafted Italian dress shoes positioned close to her head.

  “Dimmi qualcosa?” The voice said again.

  It soothed her and made her ache at the same time. She followed the direction of the words. The pain increased every centimeter she raised her head. Finally able to see, Adele blinked at the sight of two Ambrogio’s staring back at her with concern. The double vision was the last thing she saw before she lost unconsciousness.

  Chapter 26

  A violent sneeze woke Adele out of her slumber. It was stuffy. The air was heavy. Adele found it difficult to breathe.

  “It’s these ancient walls. They make my allergies flare up too. The sneezing is not so bad. Do it eight times and you’ll have a orgasm or at least that’s what they say. I hate the coughing. It’s so unladylike.” Felicita said.

  “Hello?” Adele hauled the heavy duvet cover off her legs.

  “I wouldn’t attempt to walk if I were you, dear. You took quite a fall. The doctor prescribed rest and relaxation.” Felicita said.

  Adele couldn’t decipher where the voice—now a soft caress—was coming from.

  “Who’s there?” Adele asked.

  The panic Adele felt subsided when the lights were turned on. The brightness was sharp like the blade of a knife, and at it’s tip was Felicità.

  “You gave us all quite a scare, Tesoro,” Felicità said

  “Umm, you speak English? Why didn’t you say something?” Adele asked

  “I never said I couldn’t speak English. You were so cute. You could use the practice if you’re going to marry my Ambrogio.” Felicità sat side-saddle on the bed.

  Adele was stunned at her appearance. No longer pale, Felicita looked sun-kissed and vibrant. Her silvery hair was gathered at the crown of her head in a bun, shimmering like a halo under the fluorescent lights.

  “Marry? This family has way too many secrets for me to evening contemplate marriage. I can’t believe you speak English,” Adele said.

  She recounted all the R rated confessions she made about him in front of his grandmother. She could hardly look her in the eye.

  “I’ve heard much worse about both my grandsons,” Felicità said.

  “Not only can you speak English, but you’re clairvoyant too? So, I guess you know what I’m going to ask next,” Adele said.

  “Mi dispiace, Adele. It wasn’t as calculated as you think. Alzheimer’s takes away all my precious memories, but the worse thing is I never know when I will go to that place. Nothing makes sense there. It’s like a murky pond full of memories I can’t swim my way out of. I’m sorry I never mentioned Ambrogio’s twin. Can you forgive me?” Felicità asked.

  On cue, as if waiting behind a red curtain, Ambrogio and his doppelganger strode into the room. Ambrogio stood at the head of the bed, near Adele. His mirror-image stood at the foot.

  “Cara, I’m so glad you’re unharmed.” Ambrogio emphasized his words by stroking her jawline with his thumb.

  She moved away from his touch, not because she didn’t like it, but she couldn’t afford the distraction, not when she wanted answers.

  “Keep those hands to yourself. You have some explaining to do. Why didn’t you tell me that you had an evil twin?” She asked.

  “I’m Luca Argentero. I’ve been called a lot of things, but evil? That’s a first,” he said.

  “If the designer shoe fits,” Adele said.

  “I’m Ambrogio’s more attractive, intelligent, and cultured older brother,” Luca said.

  “Older? You were born two minutes before me. I don’t care what you say, you’re not my older brother,” Ambrogio said.

  “I was born first; therefore, I’m older. See, I told you I was the intelligent one,” Luca said.

  Adele could tell he enjoyed baiting his brother from the dazzling smile he flashed at her.

  “Why were you such a jerk? I didn’t appreciate your treatment, and you’re lucky Robynne didn’t punch you in the face. She’s got a mean right hook,” Adele said.

  “My apologies, Bella.” Luca closed the distance between him and Adele, grasping her hand and moving it to his lips in one fluid movement. Ambrogio retaliated with a cold stare, aimed directly at Luca.

  “Why are you so territorial, fratello mio?” Luca asked.

  “I will forget we’re brothers if you touch her again,” Ambrogio said.

  “Basta! Enough! I’ve never seen you two get this far out of hand. Shame on you two for acting this way in front of Adele,” Felicità said.

  Her scolding finger was locked, loaded and ready to go. She pointed it at her grandsons in a silent dare to disobey her.

  “Scusa, Nonna,” They both said in unison.

  “Adele, it was all a ruse…..an act. One concocted by my dear brother, I’m afraid. My apologies,” Luca said.

  He bowed like he had been called back on stage for an encore.

  “You’re not on stage right now,” Ambrogio said.

  “An act? You mean you’re not a raging asshole? Sorry Felicità,” Adele said.

  “It was necessary in order to get you to leave Italy,” Ambrogio said.

  “If you wanted me to leave, you should have just said so,” Adele said.

  “Make no mistake, my heart leapt when I discovered you were here,” Ambrogi
o said.

  “I still don’t understand what’s going on here. Why did you want me to leave?” Adele said.

  “You’re leaving is more of a necessity than a want, Tesoro,” Felicità said.

  “Again, why?” Adele’s head was spinning.

  “We feared for your safety. I knew you would fight me if I asked you to leave, so I came up with this scheme. Luca’s goal was to make you hate me. He played his role perfectly,” Ambrogio said.

  “Acting is my craft. Of course, I played my role perfectly. Why wouldn’t I?” Luca said.

  “And modest too. Your brother was protecting me by pretending to be a jackass? From what? Does it have anything to do with me almost getting run over this evening?” Adele asked.

  “It’s best you don’t get involved more than you already are. A jet is waiting to take you and your friend home immediately,” Felicità said.

  “Have any of you contacted Robynne?” Adele asked.

  “No, I tried calling her from your cellphone when you passed out, but there was no answer. Where is she?” Ambrogio asked.

  “The guide from our walking tour took her on a date. She texted me once, but I haven’t heard from her since.” Adele began to worry.

  She saw the trio exchange glances, an action which only served to increase her uneasiness.

  “What’s the name of the tour company? We’ll call them,” Felicita said.

  “I gave Robynne the only copy of my reservation, but I might have the tour company’s info in my e-mail,” Adele said.

  Even the laptops arrived on gold-plated trays, Adele thought as she accepted the computer from Cesare. With the tour company’s number found, they made a frightening realization—no one named Nico was scheduled to make any pick-ups anywhere in Florence.

  “If anything happens to Robynne because of your big scary secret, I’ll never forgive any of you,” Adele said.

  Whatever was happening, it didn’t fare well for Robynne. The next hours shuffled slowly by while Adele’s imagination ran circles in her head. She envisioned her friend being hung by her ankles over the ledge of a skyscraper. The thought of receiving one of Robynne’s limbs wrapped in newspaper like a fish at market made her stomach turned. She wished she hadn’t watched so many Mafia movies.