Page 166 of Mafia And Maid
“What?”
But before I can say anything else, Alessio chips in. “He’s probably watching some por—ow, fuck!”
I raise my brow at my family gathered around the table for lunch. Beside me, the two empty seats remain, delivering an uneasy reminder that they’re gone. Two people who mean the fucking world to me. Two people who wrapped themselves so completely around my heart that, with them gone, I feel like I’ve lost a part of me.
“You haven’t looked up from your phone since you sat down,” Marco says.
“Something we should know?” Alessio chimes in.
My eyes slide to those empty places.
“Have you…tried to talk to her?” Julianaasks.
Following the funeral and the fuck up I made, I’ve spent the last week cleaning it up. Harold Covington, the asshole I punched at the funeral, made good on his word and pulled out all the stops in his attempts to get back at me.
He used every underhanded tactic in the book, but he forgot who I was and what power I carry in this city. The news of the scandal that suddenly engulfed his hedge fund brought a little satisfaction to me. Served him fucking right for running his mouth about my woman. But it didn’t fix things between Rosa and me. Not until her phone call twenty minutes ago.
When I spoke to her, relief I didn’t deserve to feel had pumped through me. It wasn’t a fix. I wasn’t sure I could fix it. But fuck, I wanted to try.
“She called me just before lunch.”
“And?” Cate asks eagerly.
“And I talked to her.”
A round of eye rolls.
“Well, what did she say?” Juliana says.
“And what did you say?” Alessio adds.
“And are they coming back soon?” Cate asks.
“Let him talk,” Marco orders over the rim of his glass.
“She said…this afternoon, they’ll be back.”
I don’t miss the way Marco’s eyes meet mine. I can read the silent question on his face without even trying:Once she’s back, is she staying for good?
I shrug in answer. I don’t know, but I sure as fuck hope so. Inside me, the constant doubts claw each flare of hope into ribbons. It’s killing me. I know that I have to talk to her properly once I’ve brought her back to the mansion.
“Good,” Alessio comments. “It’s not the same without her.”
“You just miss her cooking,” Cate laughs at her husband.
“We all do,” Marco adds.
God, do I miss her cooking. But it’s more than that. It’s the sound of her humming in the kitchen. The way she looks when she’s relaxed and having fun. The way she dances as she cooks. I just missher. Her smell. Her laugh. Her shy smile. The way she blushes at the smallest compliment. The way she stares at me like she can’t believe I’m real.
“I hope you manage to work things out,” Juliana says softly.
I nod, gazing back down at my phone, my eyes looking at the photo of Rosa, Ethan, and me, again and again, wondering if we’ll ever be that happy again.
***
The last four hours since Rosa called me have lasted an eternity, and each one has made me even more fucking nervous. I’ve gone so far as to clean my room, picking up all the clothes and car magazines that dotted the floor, plus put fresh sheets on the bed. Alessio had a field day while watching me at work.
But sitting here in the lounge, waiting until it’s time to leave and trying to act like I’m not about to throw up, is harder than I thought.