Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
I just really don't get it, God.
I know you don't make mistakes.
But how can someone like this man...and someone like me...make sense?
I square my shoulders. Remember your promise, Cat. And so I open my mouth and hear myself say in my best headmistress voice, "Buongiorne, signore." And then I actually find myself nodding to him like we're in our own version of the Cold War, and I'm already mentally banging my head against an imaginary wall as I turn and proceed downstairs ahead of him.
What the heck just happened, Cat?
I'm still berating myself when I make it to the dining room and join the Marchettis for breakfast. It's all part of La Strega wanting to annoy me, and I humor her...for the most part. It's only for special occasions like someone's birthday that I draw the line and insist on giving the famiglia privacy.
We'll just have to try again, I tell myself. Just like La Strega was known to say in her first (and admittedly bloodiest) year reigning as monarch of Boston's underworld: if you miss your target with your first shot, all you need to do is get a bigger gun or one with scope or—-
Erase, erase, erase.
I don't think that's the kind of analogy that will get God on my side.
Just be yourself, Cat.
That's the key, isn't it?
Just ignore all the what-ifs that can distract me, and all the variables and background noise, and I should be okay.
Right?
Right.
I take my usual seat at the table, which I'm relieved to find is already occupied by the other Marchettis. Sarica and Ezio enter the dining room at the same time, and that's when I realize that one of the two remaining vacant seats is next to me.
Oh no.
I try not to talk and draw attention to myself when I'm with the Marchettis, but this is an emergency, and desperation overrules my inhibitions. But just as I open my mouth to call out to Sarica, La Strega has already addressed Ezio, saying, "Go sit next to Cat, bambino. I'm sure you have much to talk about after what happened last night."
Words of concern and comfort pour out from every side as Ezio takes the seat next to me.
'I wanted to go to your room to check on you, but Signora Marchetti says we should let you rest.'
'And rightly so,' drawls Massimo. 'You do not exactly have perfect bedside manners, Sarica.'
'You must take lessons on self-defense.
'I think you mean she's to take swimming lessons, Cesare,' Gazelle, La Strega's only granddaughter, corrects her older brother with a helpless. 'Not every accident is an attempt on our lives.'
'I take full responsibility for what happened, Cattleya. Rest assured that such lapses in our security have already been addressed and will not happen again.'
The apology, on the other hand, was from Giancarlo, whose usual gravitas makes me feel like I'm a lowly peasant being asked to pardon my king.
But you're okay now, right?
Should she not still be in bed, nonna?
Sì, maybe it is not a good idea that she is out of bed so soon.
One of the staff can serve her breakfast in bed.
To say that I'm overwhelmed at this point is a vast understatement. I'm not used to being the center of attention this much. Or this long.
Help, God!
And before I've even finished my silent prayer, the only other person who has yet to speak a word is already leaning forward and quietly reminding everyone that such fussing will leave anyone suffocated.
Aaargh.
This is the second time he's saved me, and while I know this can only be a sign from God, and it can't get any clearer than that—-
I just need another second, God.
The other Marchettis good-naturedly apologize, and their grandmother deliberately turns everyone's attention away from me with a few choice words.
"What is this I hear about Massimo and a college student?"
Everyone, that is, except for him.
His unnerving gaze remains on mine, and courtesy alone leaves me no choice but to meet the gaze of the man who saved me from death.
"You are feeling better, truly?"
Now is my chance to keep my promise to God.
Now is my chance to explore what could be.
And so I...nod.
But before I can turn away and busy myself with something else, he's already speaking again.
"Nonna says you have been with us for a few months now."
I nod again.
"And that you are being trained to work as her personal assistant?"
I nod for the third time.
"Is it normal for you to be this silent? Or is there something I did to make you feel uncomfortable?"
I've just taken a sip of water when I hear his question, and I end up choking so hard that everyone ends up fussing over me again.
Aaaargh.
Ezio no longer makes any attempt to speak to me for the rest of the meal, and frustration steadily builds inside of me as days turn into weeks. Finding out whether this...this thing between him and me is real should've been easy. So why isn't it? Why do I keep failing and failing and failing?