He sat on the edge of my bed. “We can’t afford to pay you anymore.”
I swallowed but the action failed to do anything about the cotton building inside of my mouth. “Can I stay here for a couple of weeks until I find a place to live?”
“Of course. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I’m renting out your studio on the first of the month for extra income, but there’s plenty of room in the main house. We’ll come up with something.”
I lived in the studio apartment over the two-car garage, coming and going when I wanted and doing a million and one odd jobs for Gavin and his mom. It was the first time in years I felt like I had a real home, and now it was all gone.
“How bad is it? Are you going to lose the ranch?”
Gavin strummed his fingers on his jean-clad legs. “Nah, nothing that bad. I’m taking out a second mortgage on the ranch. That should cover most of her medical bills. After that…”
His voice trailed off because he didn’t need to finish his explanation. His mom’s cancer was terminal. The weekly trips to Denver for treatment never managed to halt her decline, and no one, including her doctors, believed she’d make it more than a couple of months.
I covered my mouth, holding in all the emotions bubbling inside of me. I was losing the only family I had. Losing the woman who had become more of a mother to me than my own. Losing the only place where the shadow of the Trassato name didn’t hang over me.
Gavin pulled me into a hug, and I smelled that scent of hay and soap that always clung to him. “Hey, don’t cry, sweetheart.”
I squirmed out of his arms, not able to cope with the fact that this wonderful man who was like a brother to me wouldn’t be in my life anymore because I didn’t have it in me to drift from town to town living like a ghost. I had to go home and face my father. “Can you give me a minute alone?”
“Not happening. My mom would kick my ass if I left you by yourself. Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong and we can talk about options? Preferably ones that don’t include you soaking the bedding with tears.”
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, likely smearing mascara down my cheeks. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Give me a try.”
“You really want to know?”
“I do.”
I cocked an eyebrow, already feeling better with Gavin sitting next to me. He was so unlike Marcello, Sal, and my father. With his golden hair, blue eyes, dimples, and open smile, he reminded me of sunshine and happiness. “If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you.”
He lifted his thumb and forefinger to his lips and mimed locking them. “My lips are sealed.”
“I don’t know where to start, but here it is. My name isn’t Emmie Tate. It’s Emilia Trassato.”
His head whipped around. “Are you in trouble with the law?”
“Two years ago, I ran away from my home in New York. To make a long story short, my father is the head of the Italian mafia.”
Laughing, he elbowed me in the side. “Like the Godfather? You could’ve told me to mind my own business instead of making up some crazy story.”
“No. I’m serious. Take your phone out and Google Dominick Trassato. There’s probably some reference to my disappearance.”
He pulled his phone of the pocket of his faded jeans, studied me for a moment, then tapped on his screen. “You’re telling the truth.” He whistled. “Holy shit, girl. You’re family’s a big deal. You’re a big deal.”
“Not really. I’m just a girl who wanted a new life far away from all that shit. My father wanted me to marry some guy from Chicago. He’s really powerful.”
“So you ran because you didn’t want to marry him?”
I swallowed, weighing my words. “That and other reasons.” A pang shot through my chest. God, when would Sal and Marcello’s betrayal stop hurting? “Anyway, I’ve been running for a long time, and it’s probably time I went home and faced the music.”
“What will happen if you go home?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” Memories of the night before I left flooded my mind. “I wish I could find a way to close the door on that part of my life forever.”
“Emmie,” he threaded his fingers through mine, “will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I scoffed. “Screw off, Gavin. That’s not even funny. I don’t want a husband. I can get one of those at home.”
“That’s good news because I don’t want a wife.”
I frowned. “You’re not making sense.”