by Rachel Renee
With the seriousness leaving his face, Charlie smirks. “No talk, all action?”
“No. Come on. I told you that wasn’t going to happen.”
“Oh, come on,” both men chide.
“It’s the truth, whether you want to believe it or not. I care about Sophia enough to know that nothing good will come of the two of us hooking up.”
Charlie glares once more but Moretti’s head goes up and down in agreement. “Tell me what is going on? Do you think Sophia could be in trouble?”
“It doesn’t sound that way. Sounds like she could be meeting up with Paolo behind our backs. Started right after the meeting at the Colosseum.”
“Who initiated contact?”
“Don’t know. The string of conversation starts in the middle of it. They could have been talking before that and she just pretended to not know him.”
“Where are these messages? I want to look at them.”
“Don’t have them with me.”
“So, you came here to talk with Charlie and didn’t think to bring them? Or, you left them on purpose?” I growl, staring Moretti directly in his cold, blue eyes.
“Left in a hurry. Wanted to get back here before Sophia arrived home.”
“Why don’t we just confront her and see what she says? Could be a misunderstanding. This could all be a part of her mission objective.”
“Nic, I know you want to see the best in her, but I’ve been at this a while and this smells like a double-cross to me. I don’t think we should say anything until I know more.”
Am I blinded by the feelings I’ve developed for Sophia? Could she be hiding something like this from us? I swivel my barstool so that I’m staring at the wall and not at the two men who are now boring holes into the back of my head. I can’t think straight with those two looking at me like I too am keeping them in the dark.
“What are you two planning to do about Sophia?” I ask, needing to know where their heads are at.
“Not sure yet. We aren’t going to say anything, if that’s what you want to know. It’s business as usual until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“I advise you to do the same,” Charlie interrupts. “Watch what you say around her, too.”
I rotate again, my turn to glare at Charlie. “I may be new at this, but I’m not entirely stupid.” Maybe a little naïve to the fact that I’ve shared more than I probably should have now that this has come about.
Charlie’s hands go into the air. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” I rumble. “This is my mission too, and I won’t do anything to compromise it.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Moretti sneers. “We’ll let you know what we find out.” He looks back and forth between Charlie and me. “You’ll do the same?”
“Yeah,” I answer immediately. Although, I’m not certain I will. I was given advice at the very beginning of this and I haven’t really been following it. Now I think might be a good time to start.
As I leave the kitchen, marching toward my bedroom, I think about what Sophia could possibly be doing. Would she double-cross us? Could Moretti be up to something? Trying to get Sophia off the crew? There are so many possibilities swimming through my head. I avoid my room and head up to the terrace where I can hopefully come to a couple of conclusions of my own.
The sun is setting behind the buildings and my stomach is grumbling as I bypassed lunch, and dinnertime has also come with no food in the current plan. I plop down in the same chair I sat in this morning, looking over some of the sights I had just experienced up close and personal.
I was starting to feel like this group was family. In some ways, I guess maybe they still are. Even within a family, people fight, people will misunderstand, family may even double-cross. But is it for the greater good or for the good of only one? That’s what I plan to find out. Real life is different than role-play simulation and I’ve still got a lot to learn as I traverse this case.
I’m not sitting long before the sweet sound of Sophia’s voice comes trailing up the terrace stairs. “Niccolo, you up here?”
She’s coming up from the opposite entrance and sounds as if she’s alone. “Yep. Just enjoying the peace and quiet.”
“How was your day?” she asks, pulling out the chair next to mine and softly sitting in it.
“Much needed,” I answer. Sophia and I spend some time talking through what I did and where I ventured to. The conversation stills when I’m out of the activities I experienced today. Normally our chats flow so naturally, but I don’t know what to talk about. Sophia picks up on this.
“Something the matter?”
“No,” I spout immediately.
“That doesn’t sound sincere.”
“Missing home.” The lie comes out so easily, and the half smile I receive from Sophia lets me know that she believes it.
“It does get easier over time, but there will always be that spot in your heart where home lies waiting for you.”
I return her look. “That’s good to know.”
“Or, you find a new home, like I did,” she adds. “I heard this saying once, Home is where the heart is. My heart has not always been in Rome, but it is now. This is where I’m happy and have made a life for myself.”
My eyes focus on her now, the remnants of the sunlight streaming through the blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. I think about what life she must have here—she’s never with anyone but us, that I have seen. She must have other friends, maybe family, that I’m unaware of. We’ve talked about many things, but anytime it gets too personal, she shuts it down quick.
“That’s a very popular saying in the States,” I answer her. “You ever been?”
A small chuckle escapes her. “Maybe once,” she answers.
“Maybe?”
“You know personal stays personal.”
“Why is that? I’ve been open with you about many personal items, but you always shut me down.”
“It’s the way I’ve become. Business stays with business and personal with personal. Things get too complicated when I’ve tried to mingle the two.”
“I can understand that.” I give pause, reaching out to touch her hand as she’s done to me many times. “But, I’ve come to grow quite fond of you and would consider you to be someone I would confide in. I’d hope that one day you could feel the same about me?” I say it as a question, but I really do mean it. I feel the sudden urge to ask her about Rubio, but I don’t want to jeopardize this mission, so I let the urge die down.
“Maybe someday,” Sophia inserts. “I want you to focus on your task. This mission could be huge for you as a first.”
I bite my cheek. There are so many questions I want to ask her. So many unknowns. “Do you trust Moretti? Charlie?”
“Do you?”
“Not fair. I asked you first.”
She pulls her hand out from underneath mine, wringing her hands as she leans back further into her chair. “Yes.” She pauses. “And no. I never fully trust anyone and…” I watch as her tongue glides across her bottom lip. “I’ve worked with Moretti before. I’m not entirely certain he doesn’t have connections to Rubio.”
I sit back in my seat, letting her words sink in. She has always seemed to know Moretti, their interactions more familiar, but this is the first time either has mentioned working together in the past. “What makes you say that?” That is the answer that I need. The rest of her comment is stored away in my collection of items that have been kept from me during this mission.
Her head swivels and after she has made sure no one is in earshot, she whispers. “I’ve seen them together. I have pictures.” Sophia reaches into her lightweight jacket and procures her phone. The equipment that they have supplied us is state of the art, and the pictures that our cell phones can take are quite impressive. As her fingers glide over the keys, I stop her.
“I don’t want to see.” I do, actually. Knee-jerk response to finding out two of the people I’m supposed t
o be working with have a connection to Rubio that is off the grid. It’s odd that it has come to light on the same day, but as I’m learning, there is no rhyme or reason as to why—as to how things come to be.
“Why?”
“Will it help my mission to know that one of my teammates is possibly working against me?” Why wouldn’t it? I ask myself as Sophia answers.
“It may.” She pushes the phone to me so that the screen is in eyesight. “Just look at one. Just see what I see.”
My eyes close for a moment. Moretti tried to accuse Sophia but didn’t have anything concrete for me to look at. I’m sitting with someone who does. I open them, the screen directly in front of my face now. The picture is grainy but I can tell that Moretti is smiling, looking directly at Rubio who is lounging on a chair next to a pool. Sophia flicks her finger across the keys, and another picture appears. A man in a suit is handing the now-seated Moretti a drink from a tray. Rubio has the same beverage in his hand, holding it out as if to toast with Moretti. The next picture, the drinks up to the men’s mouths. The next. The two men in the pool.
“Who took these?”
“That’s not important.”
“Where are they?”
“This is Rubio’s estate.”
“You’ve been there?”
Her eyes dart to mine, then back down at the phone. Will she lie to me? “Yes,” she answers.
“Did you take these pictures?”
She looks at me once more, and I see it. The secrets she has been keeping. “Niccolo. There are so many things about this mission that are beyond you. Things that will come out eventually. Right now, I just need you to trust that I have your best interest in mind when I don’t answer your questions.”
I pound my fist against the table. “Why is everyone keeping things from me? This is my mission too. I thought we were supposed to work together?” I know I’m shouting, but I’m mad and I want Sophia to know.
“We are,” she answers softly.
“How? You are keeping secrets. Moretti is as well. I’m sure Charlie is keeping things from me too. How am I supposed to be successful when my own team is compromising my mission?”
“We aren’t. We’re supporting your mission.”
“How? How is keeping things from me supporting me? Enlighten me to this way of thinking.”
“You may not see it now, but you will.”
I stand from my chair, tipping it over in the process. “I don’t see how.”
“Liam.”
This is the first time she uses my real name and I stop pacing. I slipped during a very early conversation and said my given name and am now kicking myself for that reveal. My eyes widen as I stare down at her small figure in the chair in front of me. “Don’t mention that name ever again. I’m not him. I’m Niccolo. This is my mission and I am not going to let you or anyone else jeopardize it by giving me away.”
“That is not my intent.”
“Your intent better make itself clear soon, or I’m calling in the troops and throwing you and Moretti under the bus for crimes against our organization.”
“Li…Niccolo,” she catches herself. “Please. Stay focused on why you are here. What your mission objectives are and try to trust that the rest of us are doing our jobs as well.”
“I can’t say that I trust anyone anymore.”
12
It feels good to be back at the caffé this morning. To have Santi back in focus and this mission back on track. I don’t know what is going on with my team, but at the moment, I don’t trust anything that is coming from their mouths.
I’m sitting at our table, enjoying my latte when Santi strolls up, the biggest grin on his face. “How’s Sophia?” is his first question. “You taken her yet?”
Santi insists that I play too nice when it comes to Sophia. I told him that our relationship was new and I didn’t want to start anything too serious since I had just gotten out of a relationship prior to coming here. And, the fact that we are leaving for Florence soon. He doesn’t understand my way of thinking, insisting I needn’t have a relationship with her to get my needs fulfilled. I wanted to tell him I’m a gentleman, but felt like that wouldn’t be the best way to get in his good graces. He takes what he wants from women, girls, so I lie. They are coming so much easier these days.
“Maybe.”
If possible, his smile widens. “Tell me, how was that minx?”
My brows raise and I throw a smile on for good measure. He doesn’t even let me speak.
“I knew it.” He’s shaking his head. “She’s fantastic. I could just tell by the way she moved at the Colosseum.”
I’m extremely happy that I didn’t have to make up stories of our sexual escapades to appease Santi. He immediately opens up about his trip and a woman he fooled around with in Florence.
“I plan to see her at school. She’s worth a second”—he chuffs—“no”—he counts on his fingers—“fifth fanculo.”
I’ve never actually heard the term spoken aloud here, and wonder if he doesn’t know the English translation or just likes the Italian one better. I smile at Santi, appeasing his ego and allowing him to sit comfortably in his chair as he proceeds to tell me all about his time with this woman. As he explains this dark-haired beauty, my mind drifts to Eliza, my dark-haired beauty in Savannah. My eyes close as I think of the first time we were together. She was perfect, each piece of her body molded flawlessly against mine.
“You are picturing her, yes?”
I open my eyes and see Santi’s mischievous dark ones glaring at me. “Yeah. There is something about the dark hair that seems familiar.” I don’t mean to say it but it comes out before I have a chance to stop it.
“You had it bad for your woman. Will you see her when we go to Florence?”
I let out the sigh that had been building. “No. It’s over. I’m moving forward.”
“You’ll keep her in your back pocket?”
I want to say no, but he’s waiting for the opposite answer, which honestly is the truthful one. “Yeah. If she showed up on my doorstep, I would not turn her away.”
His head nods in understanding. “I hope I meet her.”
“I hope you don’t.”
“Afraid she might go for me?”
“Something like that.”
“I won’t step on your toes.”
“Good to know.”
“I’m a good friend, Niccolo. You will see this.”
My mouth turns upward as I stare at the guy across from me. In some ways, I hate leading him on. How do people successfully complete missions without getting personally involved on some level? I think back to my teammates. I’m starting to feel more like Santi every day. A group of people in my life, leading me to believe one thing, while doing something completely different behind my back.
“You will,” he repeats.
“I already have,” I answer.
“Want to go to the Villa with me? Padre is having a dinner party and there will be plenty of ladies. You could bring Sophia, or…”
I perk up. This is the first invitation to his home that I’ve received. This is what I have been waiting for. “When?” I ask before he finishes.
“Tonight.”
I pretend that I’m thinking it over.
“It’s last minute, so I understand…”
“I’ll come.” Do I ask Sophia and keep up the ruse or play my own game? “By myself.”
“I like where your head’s at.” Santi places his coffee cup down on the table. “I’ll message you the address. What is your number?”
Shit. I draw a complete blank. What is my cell number? “How about you give me yours, and I’ll text you?” I pull the phone from the table, opening up the address book. With my finger hovering over the keys, Santi reads his numbers out.
“You don’t share yours much, do you? That’s why it is not so easily coming to you?”
“No one ever wants it. Plus, not everyone has one.” That’s partly true. Cell phones
are becoming more and more prevalent throughout the world. And, the only people who need my number, already have it.
“You’re not meeting enough women. We will fix this tonight.” He points to my phone. “Memorize it before then.”
I laugh. “I’ll do my best.”
His glare changes as his eyes start darting up and down the length of me. “And do wear something a little more…modern.” He points to my attire. “Do you have something that is not so, professor-like?”
I feel the grimace before I can stop it. I meant to shop, but haven’t been too successful in finding what I want.
“Let’s go to the marketplace. I’m going to put something together for you.”
“No.” Seems like something chicks would do, not dudes.
“Yes. You have been lucky so far, but the caliber of women who come to my father’s dinners will want something more than what you are currently offering. If you’re not bringing Sophia, you are wanting to explore your options. Let me help.”
This will give me more insight into Santi and help me fit in with the Rubio crowd. “Fine,” I answer. It’s all for the greater good of the mission. I will play along and be the good little puppet everyone is making me out to be.
After a couple of hours of shopping and seven hundred and fifty euros later, I have a brand-new wardrobe, thanks to Santi. The afternoon was a success in another way as well. Santi started talking about his father’s business, telling me how he works for the Italian government, and how they appreciate him so much, they have let him into their inner circle. This is the reason for the party this evening—to celebrate a new acquisition by Paolo.
As I throw on the white button-down shirt, tucking it into the black, twill trousers Rubio said I should wear tonight, I’m absolutely woozy with excitement. This is the pinnacle of this mission. Get in with Santi and get him to invite me into his home, mingle with his father, dabble in their affairs.
After I’ve patted my neck with cologne, thrown on my beige, linen blazer, and slipped my feet into the Italian leather loafers that fit like a glove, I leave my room only to find that my three colleagues are seated around the table, expectantly. This is the first time I’ve seen Sophia with Charlie and Moretti since Moretti’s little announcement.
