point at the door. “If you’re looking for the exit, it’s right there. Maybe I should get a sign installed.”
He closes the distance in a pounce. His lips graze mine. He bites my lip. I bite his. Our teeth click together and then our tongues press through, lashing, muffled gasps filling the air.
“Be careful,” he snarls through the kiss. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”
“Ooh, I get it. You’re a big bad wolf.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “I’m quaking in my boots.” I faux-shiver. “Too bad you used that line already. Now, are we done?”
His eyes roam over me, lingering for a long time on my legs. “For now,” he grunts. “I’ve got work to do.”
He leaves. I slam the door shut behind him and then slump against it, listening. He pauses on the other side, breathing heavily. His footsteps recede for a second, then come closer again.
I will him on. Do it, motherfucker, I whisper silently. Come back. Push me to my limits.
But then his sounds fade away again, leaving me alone. I tell myself I’m glad.
I spend the rest of the day in the vast library, sitting in a secret nook trying to lose myself in a book. But the words keep leaping across the page, becoming inked portraits of Carlo, or the dialogue will warp into the things I wish I’d said. Plus, it turns out my corner is not as secret as I thought.
I look up at the sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor. Alda looks small as she walks beneath the two-story bookcases, her veil fluttering lightly in the breeze from where I have cracked open the window. Today, she’s wearing a crimson-red veil, and I’m almost sure I can see her eyes peering through the sheer fabric.
“Hazel,” she smiles. I hear it in her voice. “Would you be so kind as to help me with dinner?”
“What time is it?” I sit up. Did I nap? I can’t remember; my thoughts have been so janky this afternoon. The sun is slowly setting, turning the library into a pretty shade of coral in the dying light.
“It is time I enlisted your not-insubstantial talents,” she says archly, then laughs.
I wonder if she knows about the argument with Carlo. It’s a safe bet, considering we screamed at each other like we were trying to shred our vocal cords.
I rise from the seat, setting the forgettable book down, and offer Alda my version of a smile. It’s impossible to say no to her. It’s not her fault Carlo is her son, after all. Well, technically it is, but it’s not like she chose the sperm.
“Of course I’ll help,” I tell her. “I’d be glad to.”
Alda and I busy ourselves in the kitchen, saying little, but as we work, I feel a deep tug in my chest. So this is what it would have been like to have a mother, to spend those silent hours with her, words not needed, to have an understanding that went beyond discussion. Or maybe I’m just projecting too much onto Alda. Maybe she just can’t think of anything to say.
She dips her pinkie into the carbonara sauce and then kisses her fingers to where her lips are under the veil. “Deliziosa! Did you use eggs or butter?”
I wink at her. “Now, now, I can’t give away all my secrets just yet, can I?”
I wander over to the oven and peer inside where Alda’s homemade garlic bread is crusting to a tempting bronze. “Oh, Alda, it smells wonderful.”
“You better go easy on it, though,” Alda says.
I tilt my head. “Why?”
Now she’s winking. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do.
“Because it’ll make kissing Carlo a whole lot harder!”
I grimace. “Your own son, Alda! And I thought you were a civilized lady.”
We’re laughing like as we carry the serving platters into the kitchen. Of course, Carlo has staff for this, but it’s more fun this way. Emily is already at her place, rubbing her hands together.
“Starving, I believe, is an understatement right now,” she says. “I have the appetite of a pregnant woman. I knew I should’ve made that drifter wear protection.” Emily grins savagely as Alda makes an oh-my noise. “Relax, Mom, jeez.” She mutters to me in an aside: “God forbid her little girl even hints at growing up.”
We’ve all taken our seats when I realize that there’s another place set. The door creaks open. Is the chandelier light shifting, or is that just my imagination? This whole place