by Wendi Dass
Without taking his attention from Lucia, Eduardo nodded. “What exactly did your mother say?”
Lucia shrugged. “She said something about your relationship being inappropriate.”
Sarah cringed. Oh. My. God. Roberta must have seen them together somewhere—or maybe she spotted Eduardo dropping her off at the dorm in the morning. Of all the people to find out about their relationship, Roberta would be the one. They should have been more careful!
“Inappropriate?” Eduardo bolted to his feet. “Inappropriate? As if she has any reason to say such a thing.”
“Papa, what does in-ap-pro-pri-ate mean?”
Eduardo rubbed his forehead. “Why don’t you ask your mother?”
Sarah frowned. This situation wasn’t good—not good at all. Not only had she pissed off Roberta and Mr. De Luca, but now she’d upset Eduardo, too. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. “Lucia, ‘inappropriate’ means to do something that’s not…not…” She searched for a word. “Not proper.”
“Like not closing the bathroom door?”
Sarah laughed. “Yes, Lucia. Something like that.”
Eduardo clenched his fists and scowled.
Clearly, he wasn’t amused; he looked ready to explode. Sarah stifled her laughter.
Lucia pressed her brows together. “But what are you and Papa doing that’s inappropriate?”
“We’re not doing anything inappropriate, Lucia.” Eduardo spoke in a raised voice. “Sarah is my girlfriend. And if your mother has something to say about it, she can say it to my face.” He collapsed into his chair.
Sarah snatched his hand and ran her thumb over his palm. She attempted to catch his gaze.
But he only glared at a spot on the table.
First Lucia looked at Eduardo, then Sarah, and finally at their hands. Her lips rounded into a smile. “Really?” She bounced on her chair.
Lucia’s voice dinged with excitement. Sarah exchanged a look with Eduardo. Smiling, she looked back at Lucia and nodded.
“Well, that doesn’t sound inappropriate to me.”
A smile replaced Eduardo’s scowl, and he gazed at Lucia then Sarah. He squeezed Sarah’s hand. “No, Lucia, it doesn’t.”
The warmth spread from her hand to her chest. If only she could make it last forever.
****
Sarah placed a kettle on Eduardo’s stove and plucked two bags of chamomile tea from the stash in the cupboard. She dropped one in each mug. Eduardo already adopted her nightly tea habit.
Down the hall, Eduardo busied with putting Lucia to bed.
When the kettle whined, Sarah removed it from the burner, not wanting the whistle to interrupt Lucia. She poured the water over the bags, wondering how Eduardo put Lucia to bed. Did they read stories? Did they sing songs?
Cupping the mug in her hands, she stepped into the hall and listened. Eduardo’s warm baritone drifted from behind Lucia’s bedroom door. He read a book—something about a witch and fairies. Warmth infused her chest. Could he be a more doting father?
She returned to the kitchen, picked up Eduardo’s mug, and carried it to the couch. She placed their drinks on the ottoman and curled her legs beneath her.
Across from her, stacks of files teetered on Eduardo’s desk. Had he touched them since they’d returned from Florence? He hadn’t while she’d been there. Maybe that was because the new office manager, Carina, was working out so well. Sarah eyed the stack again. Maybe Carina should start making house calls.
“Dormi, dormi bel bambin.” Eduardo’s voice, singing a lullaby, echoed down the hall.
Sarah stood and approached Eduardo’s desk. If Eduardo would give up his working at home habit—as he’d told her he would—then returning the files to his office would be the first step. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Eduardo was still in Lucia’s room then snatched a fistful of folders and tucked them in his briefcase.
In the hallway, Eduardo appeared.
What would he say if he saw her? Sarah scurried from the briefcase and hopped onto the couch.
Eduardo entered the living room, and he lifted a brow. “You look guilty.”
Sarah inched up her shoulders. “I packed a few of your files for Carina.”
“Ah.” Eduardo picked up his tea. “I suppose I should take those back.” He threw an arm over Sarah’s shoulder and drew her close.
She relaxed into his embrace. “Sorry, I should have asked.”
He rubbed her shoulder. “No need to apologize. Actually, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry Lucia put you on the spot tonight.”
She avoided his gaze. “Does her knowing about us bother you?”
Eduardo pulled back and studied her. “Why would it bother me?”
Sarah shrugged.
He tucked her under his arm and lightly kissed her head. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, Sarah—waiting to have a family again.”
Family. A warmth filled her breast. Sarah nuzzled into Eduardo’s chest. Was that really what they could be? She closed her eyes. Wasn’t a family everything she’d ever wanted—everything she’d dreamt of?
Wait—what if Lucia wasn’t enough family for Eduardo? What if he wanted…more children? She sat up and sipped the last of her tea, and bitterness nipped her tongue.
Eduardo took her empty cup and placed it on the ottoman. “Sound good to you?”
“I’m sorry?” Whatever Eduardo said, she’d completely missed.
“Ice skating tomorrow? You, me, and Lucia.”
“Right.” She relaxed back into his embrace. Ice skating sure sounded like a family activity. “Sounds good.” If only they were a family.
****
The ice rink sprawled below the Castel Sant’Angelo. Children and adults alike covered the ice. Some kids knelt over buckets, struggling to stay upright, while experienced skaters glided along gracefully, weaving among moms holding tiny-gloved hands.
Sarah tied her men’s-sized skates and inched onto the ice. Like an awkward giant whose laces were knotted together, she wobbled. Why hadn’t ice skating been on her parents’ radar? She clung to the wall. At least concentrating on staying upright took her mind off Eduardo’s comments about family.
Lucia skated past and twirled to face Sarah, skating backward. “What’s wrong, Miss Sarah? Don’t you skate?”
Sarah gave a pinched smile. “Is my inferiority that obvious?”
Eduardo slid behind her and laced his fingers in Sarah’s. He pulled her from the wall.
Lucia raced back to them and grabbed Eduardo’s free hand. “Andiamo!” She dug in the heels of her blades and started off.
The left side of Eduardo’s body jerked forward.
Sarah lurched with him, her skates slipped wide, and her breath became ragged. She released Eduardo’s hand and lunged at the wooden supports enclosing the rink.
“Lucia,” Eduardo cupped his hands around his mouth. “Slow down.”
“No, please.” Sarah caught her breath. Thank God she didn’t face-plant. “You two go ahead.”
Frowning, Eduardo flashed his gaze in Lucia’s direction. “She can wait. We can race later, can’t we, Lucia?”
Lucia shoved her hands in her pockets and responded with a humph.
“Ed!” called a voice.
Through the menagerie of wool coats, leather jackets, and cowl-neck sweaters, Mr. Moretti and Cira appeared just outside the rink.
“Cira!” Lucia raced over to her classmate.
Eduardo took Sarah on his elbow.
Sarah fumbled by his side. She clung to him all the way to Mr. Moretti.
“Vito, so good to see you,” Eduardo said in Italian. He extended his hand over the wall.
Vito glanced toward Sarah and back to Eduardo. “I didn’t realize you and Signorina Miller were acquainted.”
Eduardo grinned. “Yes, Sarah and are I quite well acquainted.”
Mr. Moretti’s pudgy cheeks balled in a smile. He gave Eduardo a playful punch in the shoulder.
Sarah dropped her jaw. First, Eduardo told Lucia—now, Mr. Moretti? The whole school would soon know she was Eduardo Rossini’s girlfriend. Which wouldn’t be a bad thing, except—her feet slipped on the ice, and she struggled to stay upright—Eduardo didn’t know exactly who his girlfriend was; he didn’t know about her flaws.
“Well, Signorina Miller, seeing as you and Eduardo are well acquainted, perhaps you can recruit him to help next year. You will be joining Signorina Franklin and me in putting on the play again next year, won’t you?”
“Well…I’m not sure.”
“The stress of production too much for you?”
Sarah scowled. “No…I….” She held her chin high. “I meant I’m not sure if I will be here, at St. Theresa’s, or even in Rome.”
Eduardo jerked, spun toward her, and furrowed his brows.
The motion pulled her off her balance again. She shuffled her skates, her right foot slid wide, and she went down, taking Eduardo with her. “I’m sorry.” She struggled to stand.
Eduardo helped her to her feet.
His expression was as cool as the ice. Sarah winced.
He turned to Mr. Moretti. “I promised Lucia a race. I suppose I should squeeze that in before too long.” He extended a hand to Sarah. “Would you like to join me?”
Sarah paused. Was he asking her to skate or something more? And if she said yes to more, did that oblige her to tell him her secret? She struggled to stay upright on her knocking knees. “You go ahead.” She dropped the connection with his gaze. “I think I’m safer on solid ground.”
Chapter 30
“Why don’t you get a shirt? Like one of those bracelets old people wear, except yours can say ‘infertile.’” Anna smirked.
Sarah smacked Anna on the shoulder. “Would you stop?” She scanned the school entry to make sure no one heard. The last car in the pick-up line drove off, and the other teachers and Sister Maria were out of earshot. Afternoon sun dappled the sidewalk.
Anna opened the door to the school and entered.
“My situation isn’t a joke. Eduardo’s been hounding me all week about my plans for next year. How can I commit to staying here—for him, for Lucia—when he doesn’t even know? What if the truth changes the way he feels?” Sarah followed.
The door snapped closed behind Sarah, cool air rushing the entry.
Anna stopped and turned to Sarah, the dark in her eyes softening. “Sarah, so many options exist to work around this problem. Adoption, surrogates—hell, you might not even need that. You two are so made for each other it’ll probably happen without even trying. I’m sure you already know all these things, and I’m sure he does, too. And if he’s that into you that he’s asking you to stay here, he’d be willing to try those.”
Maybe he would be willing? Or maybe he wouldn’t… Sarah bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze.
Anna rubbed her arm. “Hey, if things don’t work out, I’m sure Marco’s available.”
Again, Sarah smacked Anna’s shoulder. “You’re awful, Anna Franklin. You know that?”
Anna winked and started toward the staircase. “Have time for happy hour before you meet Prince Charming?”
“How about afternoon tea?”
Anna stuck out her tongue. “Ugh, fine. But only if you buy me a cannoli.”
Sarah smiled. “Why not? A sugar rush might help me get up my nerve. Let me wrap up a few things, and I’ll text you.”
With a nod, Anna rushed up the stairs.
Sarah returned to her classroom. But when she opened her door, she nearly jumped out of her shoes.
Mr. De Luca stood just inside. “Ms. Miller,” he said in a thick Italian accent, “so good to see you again.”
“Mr. De Luca, you gave me quite a surprise.”
“I tend to have that effect on women.” He stepped forward and flicked his meticulously groomed goatee.
Sarah inched to her desk and tried to find her voice. “What can I help you with? Perhaps some explanation on Lucia’s reading assignment?” She shuffled through a stack of papers.
Mr. De Luca smoothed a hand over his slick, black hair. “Actually, I need to speak to you about my wife.” He took a seat on the edge of her desk.
His strong cologne wafted in the air. Sarah sucked in a breath, and her stomach turned. “What about Roberta?”
Mr. De Luca rubbed his beard. “She’s quite upset about your involvement with Mr. Rossini.”
Sarah dropped the paper she’d been holding, and it fluttered to the floor.
Grinning, Mr. De Luca picked up the paper and tossed it back on her desk. “Given the circumstances, she’s decided to remove Lucia from the school.”
“What?” Sarah’s voice came out in a shriek. “Remove her from the school? But Lucia loves St. Theresa’s.”
“Unfortunately, Roberta doesn’t agree.”
Sarah’s mind darted in a thousand directions. Can she really do that? What will Sister Maria say? What will Eduardo—Oh, God. Eduardo. She squared her shoulders and looked Mr. De Luca dead on. “Roberta can’t do that without Eduardo’s consent.”
He picked up a pencil from her desk and twirled it between his fingers. “Perhaps. But you know how long and stressful these court battles are. Maybe you and I could help them avoid all that trouble.”
Alarm bells went off inside, but she had to know how she—no, they—could help. “How do you propose we do that?”
He stood. “Let’s just say I’ve been known to persuade my wife to do, or not do, most anything. If you are willing to do me a favor, then I will make sure Lucia remains at St. Theresa’s.”
Prickles raced along her skin, and she backed up against the chalkboard. “What did you have in mind?”
Leering, he stepped closer. “Oh, I think you know.” He seized her breast.
Sarah froze. This isn’t happening.
He squeezed, kneading her flesh with his hand.
Her breath caught. This can’t be happening.
The alarm bell inside blared, and Sarah slapped away his hand. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible.” She pointed toward the door, her unsteady hand matching the quaver in her voice. “I would like you to leave.” She swallowed. “Now.”
He strode toward the door, reached for the handle, and paused. “Suit yourself.”
Lumbering from the board, Sarah slumped into her chair. Sweat beaded her brow, and a tightness cinched her chest. Thank God he was gone. She exhaled a shaky breath. But would he be back?
****
That evening, Sarah sat across from Eduardo at his dining room table. The candle flickered on the table, casting a shadow on the tablecloth. Staring at the dancing flame, Sarah swirled her spoon in her soup.
“You don’t like the ribollita?” Eduardo cocked his head to the side.
Sarah lifted her gaze. “Sorry, I had too much table bread with Anna.”
“Bread?” He lifted a hearty spoonful of soup toward his mouth. “I thought you did the low-carb thing.”
“I do. I mean…” She dropped her gaze. The vibrant greens, oranges, and reds of the vegetables turned her already upset stomach even sourer. “Bread helps settle my stomach.” And keeps my hands occupied when I’m fidgety. She cut a wedge from the rosemary focaccia loaf set between them.
Eduardo gave her a questioning look. “Your stomach is upset? Are you mulling over your plans for next year?”
Shrugging, she dipped her bread in the soup, soaked up some tomato broth then took a generous bite. She chewed slowly—deliberately. The longer her mouth was full, the longer she could stall.
Rubbing his chin, Eduardo watched her.
His intense gaze measured her as she swallowed, reached for the bread, and started chomping again. Should she follow Anna’s advice and tell him about Mr. De Luca? Should she tell him about Roberta’s threat to remove Lucia from the school? But what would that admission accomplish? Eduardo would be mad—hell, probably downright insane if she mentioned Mr. De Luca—and the situation would
only worsen. Endless court battles could ensue…and poor Lucia—she’d be caught in the middle.
No. Another way had to exist to smooth things over with Roberta without getting Eduardo involved.
Eduardo leaned back in his chair and swigged his wine. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of asking Sister Maria about your position next year.”
Sarah froze then slackened her jaw which was in mid-wrestle with the forbidden carbs.
“She said she’d love to have you back. That she’d help in any way to keep you here.”
Sister Maria. She was the solution. She taught Roberta and Mr. De Luca in their school years. She would know how to knock some sense into them. Sister Maria would help her and spare dragging Eduardo into things.
“I’ve been thinking how I could help, too.” Eduardo put down his glass and ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe you’d be happier if you didn’t live in the dorm.” He leaned across the table and placed a hand over hers. “Maybe you’d be happier if you lived with me.”
Sarah stiffened, and numbness seeped into her lips. He wants me to move in with him? “I…” What could she say? That her head swirled with thoughts, none of which had anything to do with moving in with him. Thoughts of Mr. De Luca, Roberta, Lucia, and Sister Maria churned in her mind. She eased her hand out from his and stood. “I need to go.”
Eduardo jerked back. “Go?”
“Yes. I need to talk to Sister Maria.”
Eduardo stood. “I’ll drive you.”
But Sarah already grabbed her purse. She raced out the door and hailed a cab. Hopefully, Sister Maria would fix the De Luca situation.
****
In the dormitory kitchen, Sarah sat in silence with Sister Maria; two cups of tea sat in front of them. Sarah tapped a foot on the floor, the chamomile doing nothing for her nerves.
Sister Maria rested her gaze on her mug. “And you didn’t tell Eduardo?”
The sister stared into her mug, as if she were reading the tea leaves. Sarah shook her head. “I didn’t want to worry him.” She bit her lip. Maybe she should have told him. Wouldn’t she want him to tell her if he were in a similar situation?
Sister Maria stood, her spine straight as a rod. “You are quite right. No need to upset Eduardo.” She placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “But De Luca…that boy always has been a bad seed.”