Unmasking Juliet

by Teri Wilson

  Leo stared at the printed words until he thought he might rip the clipboard out of the doctor’s hands and throw it across the room.

  “Level five.” He swallowed. Instead of just metal, he now tasted pennies, nickels and dimes. “That doesn’t sound so bad. On what scale? Ten? Fifty? One hundred?”

  The doctor aimed a serious look at Leo. “Six.”

  “Six?” Whoever heard of a scale from one to six?

  “Yes, six. Five is considered a very high-level allergen. Six would indicate an extremely high level.”

  Very high. Extremely high. What was the difference? Leo felt as if they were mincing words at this point. “There’s been a mistake. I can’t be allergic to chocolate. It’s simply not possible.”

  “It’s entirely possible. The tests don’t lie, Mr. Mezzanotte.” The doctor was beginning to look at him as if he were crazy, which could possibly be a side effect from the implication that he was allergic to his livelihood.

  “But I’m a chocolatier. I work with chocolate all day, every day. I have for years.” If he was really allergic to chocolate, wouldn’t he be dead by now? He’d consumed enough over the course of his lifetime to kill a herd of allergic elephants.

  “I’m afraid a person can develop an allergy to anything at any time. Just last night we had someone in here who went into anaphylactic shock after eating a slice of key lime pie. Turns out he was allergic to citrus. Forty-five years old and just started breaking out in hives last month. Came out of nowhere.” The doctor shrugged.

  Leo really didn’t give a damn about the guy with the citrus allergy. Not now.

  His doctor continued. “This has probably been sneaking up on you for a while. It’s rare that your initial attack would be as severe as the one you experienced today. Have you been suffering from headaches lately?”

  “No, I haven’t. I mean, I’ve had some pain for the past few weeks, but that was just jet lag.” Dear God, please let it have been jet lag.

  “I doubt it was jet lag.” Dr. Bad News raised a knowing brow.

  The headaches had been bad, but not so excruciating that Leo couldn’t live with them. Until today. Obviously, he couldn’t go around losing consciousness on a daily basis. He would just have to deal with the situation. Consume less chocolate. He couldn’t stop eating chocolate altogether, but he could cut back. “So, what happens now?”

  “It’s rather obvious, isn’t it? You stop eating chocolate.”

  This doctor just wasn’t getting it. Leo being allergic to chocolate was like him being allergic to sick people. “And if I don’t?”

  “Your symptoms get worse with each episode until you go into anaphylactic shock like Mr. Key Lime Pie. Then, if you don’t get medical attention quickly enough, your throat closes up and you die.”

  Leo had trouble swallowing all of a sudden. He remembered standing in front of the judges at the chocolate fair and feeling as though he couldn’t breathe as he presented his tasting plate.

  “Any more questions?” the doctor asked as he stood with his hand on the privacy curtain. Clearly Leo’s time with him was up.

  “No. I think I’ve got it.”

  He sat on the hospital bed for a few more minutes waiting for the news to sink in. It started to feel a little more real when a nurse in navy blue ER scrubs came and gave him an epinephrine auto-injector that he was supposed to keep with him in case of emergency.

  She handed it to him. It looked sort of like a small flashlight. “If you suffer a life-threatening allergic reaction, you may experience swelling in your face. Your throat will begin to close up, and you’ll have trouble breathing.”

  Terrific. He willed himself not to swallow.

  She showed him how to inject himself in the thigh with the injector. Apparently, if he did it the wrong way, he could give himself a heart attack. “In the event of any of those symptoms, inject yourself with the EpiPen and get to the nearest hospital immediately. A few gulps of liquid Benadryl wouldn’t hurt, either.”

  This was getting worse by the minute. What was he supposed to do? Carry around a flask filled with grape-flavored children’s allergy medication? “I understand. Thank you.”

  He shoved the EpiPen in the white paper bag she provided, and once he was unhooked from the IV, headed for the waiting room. Still a little rattled, he didn’t bother girding himself for an interrogation on the Juliet situation. So he was relieved to find Marco watching television and waiting for him alone in the row of orange plastic chairs.

  “Hey.” Leo slumped into the seat next to him. He still felt a little off center, but at least it no longer seemed as if there was an axe protruding from his head.

  “Hello,” Marco said, taking his eyes off the TV only briefly. Leo was pretty sure Dance Moms was on the screen, but he didn’t have it in him at the moment to mock his brother-in-law. “Are you going to live?”

  “Looks that way.” Leo glanced down at his white coat, still streaked with chocolate from Juliet’s spatula. He crossed his arms so he wouldn’t have to see it. “Where is everyone? Home, I hope.”

  “Yep. Gina took Uncle Joe home. He said there were some important things he needed to take care of.”

  More important than his nephew being treated in the emergency room? Interesting. Leo didn’t much mind, though. He simply counted his blessings that he wouldn’t be forced to deal with the Juliet fallout right now. “Don’t you wonder who he’s on the phone with all the time? His cell seems permanently glued to his ear.”

  “Who knows?” Marco shrugged, and slid his gaze back to Leo. “Tonight he was in a panic over the whole Royal Foods contract, you know. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so upset.”

  The contract. Leo had forgotten all about it, since he no longer had any intention of signing it. Of course, no one else was privy to that information. Except possibly Juliet, but as far as he could tell, she was still in the dark.

  “Can we not do this right now?” Leo jammed a hand through his hair. “I just want to get out of here.”

  “Sure.” Marco stood and stretched his arms over his head. “What’s up, though? Are you okay? Did the doctor find out why you passed out?”

  “Yes, I am. And yes, he did.” Leo rose to his feet and met Marco’s gaze without elaborating.

  “All right.” Marco frowned for a minute and then dug his car keys out of his pocket.

  They walked across the tile floor and out the automatic doors before he noticed the white paper bag in Leo’s hand.

  “What’s in the bag?” he asked.

  A needle full of drugs to keep everything I’ve worked for from killing me. Leo gripped it more tightly in his fist. He felt physically incapable of saying the words.

  He shrugged and kept his eyes focused fully forward. “You know. Ordinary hospital stuff.”

  Ordinary.

  Right.

  * * *

  Juliet was being stalked.

  By members of her own family.

  If she’d been a teenager, she supposed she would have been grounded. But since she was a grown woman, her mother had to find another way to keep her under lock and key. And apparently her method of choice was making sure that Juliet was never alone. Every breath she took, every move she made, there was an Arabella right there beside her.

  She wondered if they had a flow chart or something to keep track of who was on duty at any given time.

  Nico had taken the first shift, driving Juliet home from the chocolate festival under the guise of helping her take the wineglasses and other leftover supplies to the shop on the way. But instead of just dropping her off afterward, he’d stuck around.

  “I can’t believe you let him touch you,” he’d said at one point, staring at the road ahead of them with a twitch in his jaw.

  Juliet had been too tired for a lecture. “Enough. W
ho are you? Mom?”

  That had been sufficient to shut him up. Even though what she’d really wanted to say was, “Believe it. And someday I just might let him touch me again.”

  But she shuddered at the sort of surveillance such a statement might invite, so she’d kept her mouth shut. Besides, if sleeping with Leo once had led to the kind of brouhaha that had taken place at the chocolate festival, there was no telling what kind of chaos would rain down on them next time.

  Nico had still been sprawled out on her sofa when she went to bed that night. The next morning at the stroke of ten, right when Nico finally dragged himself upright, Alegra rang the doorbell. Naturally, she’d been carrying an overnight bag.

  Such was Juliet’s life at the moment.

  Technically, she could have kicked them out. But she didn’t much feel like being alone, anyway. And Nico and Alegra were far better than the alternative—her mother.

  “How long are you all planning to keep this up?” she asked Alegra as they climbed into her car and headed for Arabella Chocolate Boutique on Monday morning.

  Alegra slid on her sunglasses and cranked the engine. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Juliet rolled her eyes. “Please. Yes, you do.”

  Alegra shrugged. “Come on. It could be worse. First off, you know I can be bought. Although at the moment, things are so crazy that my price has gone up. Way, way up.”

  Juliet didn’t even dignify that with a response.

  “Besides, we had fun last night, didn’t we?” Alegra turned the car onto the main road that led to the store.

  The street was lined with olive trees, their narrow leaves covered with a thin layer of dusty white. Olive trees were almost as common in Napa Valley as grapevines. They were prettiest this time of year, when they bloomed tiny delicate flowers that would one day become olives.

  “Yes, last night was fun.” There’d been a Chopped marathon on the Food Network, and they’d fallen asleep during the second-to-last episode. Juliet had dreamed of teams of men in white chef coats with indistinguishable faces and capable hands. “But that’s beside the point. I want my life back.”

  “It’s been two days. Less than two days, actually. Give it time. Everyone was thrown for a pretty major loop, you know.” Alegra guided the car into the parking lot of Arabella Chocolate Boutique.

  Juliet glanced across the street, and a ribbon of relief wound its way through her when she spotted Leo’s sleek sports car. She hadn’t heard a word about what had happened to him since the ambulance had carried him away from the chocolate festival.

  She opened the car door a crack. “They’re about to be thrown for another one.”

  “What exactly are you talking about?” Alegra’s head spun around. “Oh, my God. You’re not going to marry him, are you?”

  “George? Of course not. I thought I’d made that clear. Besides, I’m pretty sure he no longer wants me as his wife.” Thank goodness.

  “I wasn’t talking about George.” Alegra lifted a brow.

  Juliet’s neck grew hot. “Leo? You can’t be serious.”

  Marry Leo. The idea was so far-fetched she couldn’t even imagine it.

  Not that she wanted to imagine it. Or even think about it. Because of course, she didn’t.

  “Are you serious? That’s the real question, isn’t it?” Alegra’s gaze darted across the street to Mezzanotte Chocolates.

  Juliet wished she’d stop looking over there. “Hardly. I haven’t even spoken to him since he passed out face-first in my cleavage.”

  “That was just the day before yesterday.”

  She squirmed in her seat. “I slept with him. That doesn’t mean I’m going to marry him. Please.”

  “If you married him, that would mean you’d be related to Joe Mezzanotte.” Alegra released an exaggerated shudder.

  Related to Joe Mezzanotte. That was a sobering thought. She’d have to remember it if she was tempted to sleep with Leo again. Assuming she’d ever be free of her volunteer bodyguards. “I rest my case. I have no plans to marry Leo. Now or ever.”

  Never in her life had sleeping with someone blown up in her face in such a spectacular way. She climbed out of the car and slammed the door.

  Alegra hustled to catch up with her. “Then what’s this big bomb you plan to drop?”

  “You’ll see.” She reached for the doorknob and strode inside.

  Alegra could wait five minutes and find out with everyone else. Juliet had pretty much lost faith in anyone’s ability to keep a secret around here.

  “Juliet. Alegra. Good morning,” her mother said crisply from behind the cash register.

  Her father looked up, offered a weak smile and then went back to stamping white paper bags with the Arabella Chocolate Boutique logo. Nico just smirked. He’d been doing a lot of that lately.

  Juliet stifled a sigh and marveled at the fact that her big win at the chocolate festival had seemingly been eclipsed by Leo’s fainting spell and its subsequent mess. Okay, so she’d committed the unpardonable sin. But she’d managed to finally beat Leo. And from the looks of things, Mezzanotte Chocolates was no longer affiliated with Royal Gourmet. That envelope-ripping episode had looked pretty damning.

  Something that felt an awful lot like guilt nagged at her, which was profoundly absurd. Why should she feel bad about the whole Royal Gourmet mess? Hadn’t she been slaving away for over a week now trying to duplicate the chocolat chaud recipe? She hadn’t gone through all that trouble just for fun. Besides, the Mezzanottes were doing just fine over there across the street. They always had, and they always would, thanks to their mass-produced candy bars. She shouldn’t feel the slightest bit guilty that her involvement with Leo had botched a possible arrangement between him and George, of all people.

  And she didn’t. Much.

  “I have an announcement,” she said, stowing her handbag beneath the counter.

  “What is it?” Her mother paled. “I’m not sure I can take much more.”

  For a second, she thought about faking an affair with Joe Mezzanotte just to make a point. But it was too horrid a thought to even joke about. “I’m going to Rome.”

  Nico glanced up from the row of candied cordials he was arranging in the front display case. “Rome? As in Rome, Italy?”

  Was there another Rome? “Yes.”

  “When?” Alegra looked equally confused.

  So, everyone really had forgotten she’d won the chocolate festival. “In two weeks. For the Roma Festa del Cioccolato. I qualified because I won Saturday. Remember?”

  Alegra slipped an apron over her head and tossed an extra one at Juliet. “But you qualified last year, too. And the year before that. You’ve never been before.”

  “Well, I’m going now.” She squared her shoulders and prepared herself for a fight. Since she was already in a heap of trouble, she was sure there would be no shortage of opinions about her taking off for Italy.

  “Right.” Nico rolled his eyes.

  “Honey, I’m not sure now is the best time for you to be competing in Rome. It sounds expensive.” Her dad frowned at the cash register as if he could summon airfare simply by staring at the machine.

  “Rome. Wow.” Nothing about Alegra’s expression indicated that she believed Juliet was actually going anywhere.

  “Everyone, just wait a minute.” A smile came to her mother’s lips. Not a scary smile, but a genuine one, which made it all the more frightening. “I think Juliet going to Rome is a wonderful idea.”

  A protest was on the tip of Juliet’s tongue, ready to fly right out, until she realized what her mother had said. She closed her mouth for a second, then opened it again. “You do?”

  Nico peeled off his plastic gloves and threw them on the counter. “No way. You can’t be serious. After what she’s done?”


  Her dad held up a hand in warning. “Nico.”

  It was as if she and her brother were in grade school all over again.

  “I think it’s a wonderful idea,” her mom repeated, practically baring her teeth.

  And then it dawned on Juliet exactly what was going on.

  If she was a good six thousand miles away from Napa Valley, it would be hard to carry on an affair with Leo. She could roam around free of supervision and still not get into trouble. It seemed like an awfully extreme strategy, though. Maybe she was reading too much into her mother’s reaction. Maybe she really thought Juliet could compete in Rome and do well there.

  “Perhaps you could even leave a few days early. You know, just to see a few sights before the contest begins.” The weird smile on her mom’s face grew even wider.

  Okay, so maybe she really was trying to usher Juliet out of the country before she could see Leo again. That was fine. It still meant she was going to Rome.

  “It’s settled.” Her mom nodded. “You’ll go. We’ll look into flights this afternoon. Maybe once the contest gets underway, the rest of us can fly out and join you. I’ll need to look at the budget first, of course. But this is a huge event for Arabella Chocolate Boutique. If you do well there on the heels of winning the Napa Valley Chocolate Fair, it could mean big things for us.”

  Big things, as in getting back into Napa’s finest restaurants. Now that George and Royal Gourmet were out of the equation, and she and Leo each had one win under their belts, it was anyone’s game.

  Win or lose, she was going to Rome. At last.

  * * *

  “You’re going to Rome.”

  “Hmm?” Leo had only half heard whatever it was his uncle had said.

  He’d barely crossed the threshold and was admittedly distracted. It was strange being in Mezzanotte Chocolates for the first time since learning the inconvenient truth about his new allergy. Everywhere he turned there was chocolate. Hell, he could smell it from the moment he’d opened his car door outside.

  “I said, you’re going to Rome. You leave in twelve days. Get packing.” Uncle Joe flipped the sign on the door from Closed to Open.