“She followed Sal in here, and I caught her peeking through the gap in the doorway. That’s why she tossed the glass at me. I told her to mind her own fucking business and get a life.”
“Oh shit,” I whispered.
“Oh shit is right.”
I dug my fingers into the hem of his suit jacket. “What should I do? Do you think she’s talking to my dad right now? I need to find Sal and tell him what’s—”
“No.” He glanced over his shoulder. “She’s more calculating than that. She’ll wait until she can use it to her advantage.”
“Why do you think she followed me?”
“Who knows? She’s weird about Sal, though.”
“Why? Were they…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. The image of Sal doing anything with Lettie made my stomach lurch. He’d warned me away from her more than once, and I wondered if it had more to do with keeping a secret than her being a bad friend.
He shrugged. “Who knows? Lettie’s like a spider, luring people into her web. Maybe she got to Sal at some point.”
The glow from being with Sal had dimmed, and all the happiness inside of me following his promise to leave with me shriveled up and died. I felt lost. Alone. Confused. Like I’d lost my favorite possession.
“Hey.” Alessandro squeezed my upper arms and pressed a kiss to each of my cheeks, snapping me out of my fog. “Don’t look so sad. I’ve never seen them do anything other than talk. If anything, Sal was colder to her than I ever was when he lived with us. He barely acknowledged her presence. I’m just throwin’ theories out there for why she’s so interested in the two of you.”
Air whooshed out of my lungs and I nodded, feeling marginally better. “Yeah. Who knows?” I cleared my throat to wash away the sour taste in my mouth. “Thanks for the warning. I’m going to say goodbye to everyone and go to bed. I think I’m done for the night.”
He stepped back, releasing me from his hold. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“When do you head back to school?”
“Not for a couple of weeks, but I’m leaving my dad’s house the day after Christmas.”
“Where are you headed?”
“To LA. I’m meeting up with some friends for the New Year, so I won’t see you again for a while. You know I go to extremes to avoid everything to do with my father.”
“Must be nice to have so much freedom.”
His eyes darkened, and his lips curved downward. “Don’t be fooled. We all have baggage, and trust me, the grass isn’t always greener.”
“Isn’t that the truth? Enjoy the rest of your break.” I took a couple of steps. “Oh, and have Happy New Year, Sandro.”
“You too, Emilia.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
The possibility something had happened between Sal and Lettie gnawed at my gut long after Sandro dropped that bomb on me. For the next hour, I studied Sal and Lettie’s behavior, looking for hints of the truth. Sadly, my efforts failed to shed light on anything. Sal didn’t once glance in Lettie’s direction, and Lettie’s husband made sure she didn’t leave his side.
Apparently old habits die hard, because part of me pitied her when I saw his fingers dig into Lettie’s hip or anger flash across his face. She’d done something to piss him off, which wasn’t all that usual. As far as I could tell, nothing she did seemed to please him. I had no clue why he’d married her, or stayed married for that matter. Maybe it was about control.
Unlike in the past, I didn’t approach them and attempt to relieve the tension. She’d suffer when they returned to the privacy of their house. I had no desire to come to her aid tonight, though. That probably made me a terrible person, and I couldn’t find it in my heart to care. All of our shared confidences and laughs took on a sinister bent. Lettie had her own agenda, one that included stepping all over me if it helped her, and I’d never trust her again.
Ten minutes before Sal and I were supposed to meet at the next pre-arranged mistletoe location, he caught my eye. Frowning, he cocked his head and pointed to the front entryway. I shook my head and went back to the kitchen where I could slip up the service stairs and into my bedroom without calling attention to my absence. I needed to get my thoughts in order before I talked to him and that meant spending some time alone.
Instead of finding clarity in the privacy of my room, I found another black and white wrapped present from Marcello sitting on my desk. He hadn’t sent me anything except a note or two since the bracelet. My heart sped up as I peeled off the wrapping paper. I found a framed black and white headshot of my mom inside. In the lower right-hand corner, she had written: