Page 69 of The Broker
“That doesn’t count,” she says. “Let’s go out soon. Talk to Dante and figure out when he can watch Angelica, and we’ll have a girls’ night out, okay?”
The mention of Dante sends pain stabbing through me. I push it to the background. Time is supposed to be the great healer, but it’s been two weeks, and I’m just as miserable as I was the day I left his house. “Are you free tonight? Angelica has a sleepover at Mabel’s.”
“Yes,” Rosa responds enthusiastically. “Let’s do it.”
Angelica sets off with Silvio for her sleepover, backpack slung on her shoulders. I watch her leave with a pang. The last couple of weeks have been rough for her, too. I’ve done my best to keep a cheerful facade, but Angelica knows something is wrong and that it’s connected to Dante. This sleepover with Mabel couldn’t come at a better time. She’ll have a puppy and a kitten to distract her, and if I know Zadie, she’s arranged an evening’s worth of fun activities for the kids.
As soon as Angelica is out of sight, I head to the neighborhood bácaro, where I’m meeting Rosa for wine and cicchetti. She’s already there, tucked away into a corner table. The two of us fight our way to the bar, make our selections, and carry the platter of crostini back to our table.
“How was Lecce?” I ask her once we’re seated. Rosa’s parents moved to southern Italy three years ago. “And how are your parents?”
“It was all, ‘Hugh graduated from college, isn’t that great? Hugh has a girlfriend, Rosa. Why aren’t you settling down and giving us grandchildren? Hugh got a job in a bank. When are you going to stop messing around with fabric and do some real work?’” She shrugs. “Same old. Hugh tried to deflect it, but my parents aren’t easily distracted from their agenda of making me feel like shit.”
“You have a boutique of your own in Dorsoduro. Do they have any idea how good you have to be to make rent every month?”
“No, and they don’t care.” She selects a piece of meat from the platter and pops it into her mouth. “Forget them. I want to talk about you.” She gives me a concerned look. “Is everything okay with you, Valentina? You have dark circles under your eyes, you’ve lost weight, and at Lucia’s wedding, you practically flinched every time you saw Dante.” Her eyes narrow. “Did he hurt you?”
I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about what happened. I can’t talk to anyone at work—they’re all guys who will undoubtedly take Dante’s side. I don’t want to trouble Lucia; she’s deliriously happy, and I don’t want to burden her with my problems.
But I’m tired of keeping things bottled up. Exhausted from having to maintain a happy face for Angelica’s sake.
“He broke my heart.” I tell her the whole story, all of it, starting with moving in with Dante and ending with finding out the truth about Roberto’s death.
Rosa listens in silence, her eyes getting wider and wider with each revelation. “Wow,” she says when I finish. “So, you’re in love with Dante.”
“Sure, but that’s not what matters.”
“Are you sure?” she asks gently. “Look, I’m not condoning what he did. It was a truly shitty thing to do. Secrets are bad. I’m just saying I understand Dante, that’s all. Haven’t you ever been so afraid of losing something that you make a mistake?”
I hesitate. I’ve made mistakes, bad ones. Staying with Roberto, for starters. I should have left the first time he hit me, but I didn’t want to admit I was in over my head. As for secrets, I have plenty of my own. I’ve avoided talking about Roberto with Angelica. I’ve hidden the sordid details of the abusive relationship from her. I’ll tell her about it when the time is right, but if she finds out before I can tell her the truth, would she hold a grudge against me the way I’m holding a grudge against Dante? Would she pull away from me like I pulled away from him?
“I don’t know,” I say helplessly. “He should have trusted me with the truth.”
“Sure. So scream at him. Make him grovel and beg for forgiveness. But don’t walk away, Valentina. You’re obviously miserable without him. Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face.”
Is she right? Should I have stayed and resolved our disagreement instead of running away? My head spins. I can’t decide—I need time to think about it. “Forget me for an instant. I’ve been so involved in my mess that I haven’t asked. Whatever happened to Franco? Are you still seeing him?”
“God, no.” She rolls her eyes expressively. “If I want someone shitting over my career choices, I can always count on my parents. No, I broke things off well before Christmas. Not too long after our double date, in fact. Oh, funny story about that. You know Neil? Evidently, he disappeared. Just quit his job abruptly one day, with no notice or warning, nothing. And Franco says his phone’s been disconnected. So weird.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. That’s odd. Why quit without notice? It’s the sort of thing that burns bridges, and there aren’t that many accounting companies in Italy that Neil can afford to do that with.
Just then, my phone rings. It’s Zadie, Mabel’s mother. “Hey, Valentina,” she greets me. “I just wanted to see if you’re running late or if there’s been a schedule mix-up?”
Ice slithers down my spine. “A schedule mix-up?”
“Angelica’s not here yet. Mabel’s quite disappointed, of course, but if you—”
Angelica’s not there.I interrupt, my voice harsh with fear. “She should have been there half an hour ago.” Panic grips my heart. “Zadie, I’ll call you back.”
My fingers shaking, I call Angelica’s cell phone. A synthesized male voice answers. Someone’s running their voice through a filter to prevent recognition. “Hello, Valentina,” he says. “You have a hundred million euros of my money. If you want to see your daughter alive, I suggest you return it. I’ll call you back in two hours.”
Then the line goes dead.
Revenant’s kidnapped Angelica.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.