His Dirty Bargain

by Fiona Murphy

  She nods then makes a few notes on the printout. “As far as the backsplash, what were you thinking? What kind of cabinets are you going to have?”

  I follow her into the kitchen area. “We were wanting to keep it simple, white with glass on the uppers. Then white on the bottom. Those are going to be custom made. I’ve liked the look of subway tile as the backsplash but Enzo thought it was a little boring; at the same time, he doesn’t want anything flashy.”

  “Ah, people have this concern often.” She pulls out subway tile then opens a drawer with smaller sheets of tile, one in black hexagon, another of mother of pearl in subway tile. “Or there’s also this large hexagon tile in white that will make it easier to do small spots of color of the black hexagon. The tile is all porcelain so it’s all easy to clean. Except the mother of pearl, you can do these either in a line across the back or as small squares of interest.”

  She’s patient as I take my time, changing out one for the other “I like the subway tile with the black hexagon for interest.”

  Nodding, she writes it down. “Have you looked at sinks? These are new for us, Mr. Sabatini just added these in a few weeks ago.”

  “Sabatini?” She hesitates, as if wondering if she’s said too much. “I’m confused, because I work for Dante and Cesare Sabatini and this house is Enzo Sabatini’s.”

  “Ah, this Sabatini is Dominic Sabatini. Mr. Sabatini has a varied number of business interests. He and his father have invested in over a hundred homes from Lincoln Park to Uptown and over to Wrigley Park. Mr. Sabatini wasn’t finding the finishes he wanted, so he started importing them himself.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “He doesn’t advertise.”

  There is another half of the building through large swinging doors where the noise of several men is muted. “It appears he doesn’t need to.”

  She smiles. “No, even with people only being accepted by referral, we are quite busy. Which is why when Mr. Sabatini called to say you were on your way and I needed to drop what I was doing to help you, I should have known there was a reason for it.”

  The next hour flies by. Tabatha isn’t able to talk me out of the butcher block even when I find it costs more than granite. The Carrara marble is so beautiful I almost go with it on all the countertops, until I remember Enzo’s complaints about taking care of marble. I wish Enzo was here and we were doing this together. It feels wrong, without him here.

  Just as I think we’re done, I catch sight of a huge range stove. “What is that?” There are eight burners on top; however, two of the burners could be covered with a grill or a flat surface. There is a large oven then a smaller half oven to the side of it. I want it desperately.

  “I knew you had good taste. It’s a Hallman range they are made to order in Italy. This was supposed to go in the latest home Mr. Sabatini was flipping; however, it’s been purchased before it’s even finished, so he decided to keep it. I think he would love for you to have it.”

  “I don’t even care that there is nothing cobalt blue or gold in the kitchen this goes with.”

  Tabatha’s laugh is husky, it fits her. “This is a statement piece, it doesn’t have to match anything in the room. Why don’t you get it in place and live with it a bit. If finishes need to be changed, you can do that.”

  Once we’re done, Tabatha tells me she’ll get everything over to Ray. I thank her for her time and leave feeling better.

  Walking out of the building, I find a man leaning against my car. As I get closer, I recognize Dominic Sabatini. My stomach dips, wondering why he is waiting for me. God, so all Sabatini men are blindingly gorgeous. His suit is silk, black, tailored to his wide, muscled body. The baby blue shirt beneath it complements the sapphire silk tie. As relaxed as he appears, there is an underlying current of watchfulness, reflexes ready to spring into action.

  He smiles, flashing dimples in both cheeks. All at once I’m at ease. Weird. “Bon giorno.” I nod. He continues in Italian. “I wanted to make sure you were treated well.”

  I respond in Italian, not wanting to offend. “I was, thank you. Tabatha was a tremendous help. As there are finishes still needed, I’m quite happy to return. If that’s all right?”

  “Of course. Fair warning, Enzo doesn’t get a family discount.”

  “I don’t think he would expect it.”

  “And he can afford it.”

  “Very true, he was insistent I not consider the cost when I go shopping.”

  “Then he has only himself to blame.”

  “Exactly.”

  He checks his watch. “I’m hoping you’ll join me for dinner. You satisfy my curiosity on Enzo’s new home. In exchange you’ll enjoy a dinner so good you’ll swear you were back in Italy.” I tense; do all the Sabatinis know absolutely everything about me? The idea of being alone with him, of what he really wants, has me taking a step back. His hands go up as he flashes his dimples. “I won’t touch. Enzo has a right hook you only have to be on the wrong side of once in your life. A fair exchange of satisfying one’s curiosity.”

  “And what would I have to be curious of?”

  “Piccolina, everyone is curious about me. I’ll throw in a whole lot on Enzo though, if you want that too.”

  I hate the blush I feel on my face. I’m also loath to offend him. “Okay.”

  His smile is knowing and those dimples, so unfair. He opens my car door...um, I didn’t beep it open and I know I locked it when I went in. I push down the niggling fear and get in. Before I have my key in the ignition, he’s getting in beside me.

  The drive to Enzo’s house is quick. We pull up as the crew is coming out of the house. Men pile into a few different trucks in front with a wave to Dominic. Dominic waves back, and in the foyer Ray nods at Dominic.

  Ray speaks Italian. “Need anything, boss?”

  “No, Ms. Hutchins is going to take me on a tour.”

  “Tabatha called, the materials we need will be delivered tomorrow. We got the stuff for the radiant heated floors today those are going to be put in the kitchen, half bath, sun porch and in the basement. My guys downstairs tore up the floors already. They will get in and put down the protective barriers so we can lay the floor.”

  “Sounds good. Since we discussed what your day looks like now, I won’t come in tomorrow morning, but Enzo wants me here in the morning. I’m also supposed to check in again at the end of the day. I’ll stop by on the way home, is five thirty too late?”

  “Five thirty works, see you tomorrow.” Ray nods to Dominic as he leaves.

  “So, tell me. Why the hell did Enzo buy this house?” We’re walking through the kitchen.

  I hesitate, aware Enzo wouldn’t want anyone to know about this morning. Shrugging, I keep my eyes away from his. “I wondered the same thing. He didn’t want a condo, he wanted a house, a home.”

  Dominic runs a finger over the piano keys as we go back into the foyer to get to the stairs. “I think you got it right, he wanted a home. And you, Chloe Hutchins; do you want a home?” He asks the question as he runs a hand over the wooden mantel in the master bedroom. His attention isn’t on me until he turns, and our eyes meet. “Would you marry Enzo and help him fill this home with a half-dozen Sabatini children who will be absolutely adorable so you don’t kill them because they are also demanding, high-energy little monsters? Nature’s own protection of dimples and big brown eyes to prevent you from drowning them at bath time.”

  A laugh comes out of me without permission. “What a horrible thing to say.”

  He shrugs as he leans against the doorway of the master bathroom. “Something my mother said to me once, or a hundred times. So? What’s your answer? Would this home entreat you to take on my pain in the ass cousin?”

  He’s serious now. I can’t look away. Afraid to open my mouth would be to tell him everything, I only shake my head. Because the answer is no, it wasn’t this house that made me want Enzo. “Hmm...” A small nod. “I wonder, because even if my cousin told you he wanted a massi
ve house, this is the last house I would expect him to buy. This isn’t his style at all, just the way the house down the street isn’t Dante. It’s Bethany down to the stained-glass windows. This isn’t Enzo at all, which makes me think this house is all you and you’re the reason he bought it. So if you won’t help him fill this house to bursting with children, I wonder if he’ll find someone else or a new house.”

  I’m frozen where I stand as Dominic takes a last lingering look around the room before walking away. The idea of Enzo here with another woman never crossed my mind. Now that it has, pain explodes through me until my hands close into tight fists as I fight to stay standing.

  “Coming, Chloe?” Dominic calls from far away. It gets me moving.

  Dominic is waiting at the opened front door. I lock up the house. Once again he’s holding my car door open for me. I can’t look at him as I get in. All I can think of is what he said.

  As I follow his soft-spoken instructions, I’m not able to focus on where we are going until we’ve stopped. We’re in front of a beautiful four-square red house with a wide front porch. I go still, wondering what the hell I got myself into.

  His chuckle is soft. “It’s my father’s home. Don’t worry, Chloe. If something bad was going to happen to you, we would make sure you never saw it coming.” He winks as he opens his door and gets out.

  Jerk. Those long legs move much faster than my own. He has the front door open before I’m on the porch.

  From inside the house I hear a deeper voice in Italian telling Dominic not to be rude, he was raised better. Wow, he has to be Dominic’s father, but the only way I can tell is by the silver strands among ink-black hair, he barely looks ten years older than Dominic. His smile is dazzling, and a dimple winks at me from his right cheek. “Bon giorno. I’m Tony Sabatini, I apologize for my son’s rudeness. Patience is something he must have in all things, but some days he’s not so good at it.”

  My hand disappears in his large one. “Thank you.” I mumble the words, still slightly stunned by him. He’s tall, at least six five, only an inch taller than his son, and he’s also a wall of muscle that flexes beneath the fine white linen shirt he’s wearing with the sleeves turned back.

  “I thank you for joining me tonight. It’s been some time since I had such a beautiful dinner companion.” I find his words incredibly hard to believe.

  “Pop, I’m not beautiful?”

  “Eh, you know you’re too damn pretty for your own good.”

  The kitchen is a chef’s dream: he has the same stove I fell in love with today in white. There’s a pizza oven with wood burning I can smell. “I’m jealous of your kitchen.”

  Tony’s laughter is husky from deep within his chest. “It’s my favorite place. Dominic tells me I have my kitchen to thank for how good my food tastes, when I was cooking like this with a hot plate and toaster oven.”

  I’m handed a glass of wine, and so begins the oddest evening I’ve ever had. Tony Sabatini is magnetic, Dominic only slightly less so. They usher me to the table in the kitchen, where I’m presented with an antipasto platter I can’t keep my hands off. The men finish cooking together, their interaction loose, affectionate. Wine flows, as do gentle, light questions between the amazing food.

  I try to turn down the leftover gnocchi I’m offered, but Tony is pressing the glass-covered dish in my hand with a small pat of his hand on my back. As he guides me out the door, Dominic behind him, I notice although he smiles, for the first time over these long hours his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  Dominic takes my keys from me. “You have had enough to drink tonight.”

  I nod, not arguing. I’ve lost count of the number of glasses I had, yet I’m pretty sure Dominic didn’t have more than one. He doesn’t ask for directions. Once again he’s quiet the whole drive. I’m surprised by the time on the dash, it’s almost ten thirty.

  When the car stops I reach out my hand for my keys. “I’ve been raised to see a woman to her door. Then you’ll have seen the last of me.”

  He’s cold now, dismissive. He reminds me of Enzo. I’m at my front door then reach for my keys. Without a word he nods and gives them to me, turning away. “What was tonight about?”

  “Pop wanted to get a look at you for himself to find out if you were good for Enzo.” He tosses the words over his shoulder.

  “And?” I know the answer, I saw it in Tony’s eyes. I’m not sure why I ask the question.

  A pause; he stops and turns to me. “We agree, you aren’t.”

  It’s a slap in the face. My lips are numb, the word comes out so garbled I don’t understand it myself. “Why?”

  “I don’t know Pop’s reason. Maybe it’s the same as mine, maybe it’s something else. You are a good person, Chloe Hutchins, I’m not saying you aren’t. There is this woman you proclaim to be: strong, independent, kind, patient, at your core a good person. Then there is the real you: petty, bitter, selfish. You’re too concerned in what’s given and owed, mainly what you’ve given and what you feel you’re owed. You’ll say please and thank you when Enzo turns his life upside down and himself inside out to please you because you think it’s your due. Maybe it is between two people who love each other, but you won’t mean your please and thank-yous—you’ll count every one. The problem with that is things are never even; there are some things that can never be calculated no matter how hard you try. You don’t get it, so you won’t turn your life upside down, and you’ll refuse to turn yourself inside out because you think you’ve done enough bringing yourself to the relationship. You won’t open up and let him in, won’t put yourself on the line. I get that shit went down in your past.”

  He shakes his head; a small laugh filled with bitterness comes from his chest. “Shit happens to everyone, there is nothing special about you or what happened to you. You either learn, grow, and move on, or you let it make you bitter and stay right where you were when it all went down. And you, Chloe Hutchins, your real age might be thirty but inside, where it counts you’re still a girl, still holding grudges, still sure you were done wrong and petulant about it.” He smiles a sad smile. “It’s too bad, because the woman you proclaim to be—that woman would be perfect for Enzo.”

  I feel the tears running down my face. I hate that he sees them, that he knows he hurt me. “Just like a Sabatini, so sure he knows everything, knows everyone.”

  “I know you, Chloe Hutchins. I know you’ve already started your accounting on Enzo, and he’s down so low there isn’t much he could do to meet your ridiculous standards. I know you’re going to stay away from Enzo; for that I’m grateful, my father’s grateful. There’s no need to warn you away. You’re too worried about protecting yourself, so we don’t have to worry about protecting Enzo.” A small nod and he turns away. “Despite how this night has ended, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

  For such a large man he moves silently, smoothly in his black suit. He reminds me of a jaguar moving through the night, away from the light. I stand watching him, unable to move, then I realize I can’t see him anymore. Shaking my head, I unlock my door, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “What’s the matter, pussycat?”

  I open my mouth to tell him, then burst into tears. Damn it.

  It takes almost an hour to stop crying and tell Russell everything. When I finally stutter to a stop and wipe my eyes, I hold my breath, waiting for Russell to respond. Instead he has me gasping for air as he simply says, “Hmm.”

  “What? What does that mean? Should I have said yes to Enzo? God, Russell, you should see the ring. Do you think Dominic’s right? Am I this horrible, bitter woman who doesn’t deserve someone like Enzo Sabatini?”

  Russell hugs me. “I honestly don’t know if you should have said yes. I think Dominic was right. If you accepted in the wrong mindset, it would be a complete disaster, but if you see what’s wrong and are determined to become better, then maybe it’s the best thing that will ever happen to you.

  “Baby girl, life does us all dirty, but
that doesn’t mean you take your ball home and pull up the drawbridge and never come out to play again. Don’t you miss it? Miss that closeness when you’re lying on the couch talking about nothing and everything, that happy contentment knowing he’s there when you fall asleep and he’s there when you wake up, that moment when your eyes meet across the room and you don’t have to say a word, you just know what he’s thinking and vice versa?”

  I shake my head. “I never had that, any of it, not once.”

  “Ah, pussycat, that explains a lot.”

  13

  Chloe

  I can’t believe how quickly everything is coming along. It’s only Friday, but in four days of work all the floors have been laid in the kitchen, new half bath, sunroom, and the basement. The carpenter for the cabinets, Jake, is a person who is sought after and does everything on his own. He came yesterday to double check the measurements for the island and cabinets. I made the call to have another farmhouse sink put into the island as well as the dishwasher. Jake is also making a new window with inlaid stained glass to go above the sink in the kitchen.

  The half bath is framed out and the plumbing already done. I’m standing with Ray inside it as we discuss the best way to handle the windows that go almost to the floor. Heat hits me; my head goes up instantly to find Enzo staring at me from across the room. Christ, I’m pathetic. Those stupid bees wake up and freak out in my stomach, and my skin goes tight.

  Ray is the one who breaks the silence. “Hey, Enzo. The floor came out pretty good. What do you think?”

  Enzo looks down at the floor then nods. “It’s fine.” He looks to me. “Why did you use such dark hardwood in the basement? The flooring in here would look better.”

  “This hardwood is what’s in the basement. It will lighten up when we paint the walls and add more lighting.”

  “You couldn’t have gone with something lighter?”

  “We’re going to paint the walls a light color. Once everything is in place it won’t be dark.”