by Kathryn Shay
“An adult has to be told. Who this is, I’m not sure. His mother, probably. Have you called her tonight?”
“I haven’t. Sammy says she’s at work and he can’t bother her.”
“Who else could help?”
“Our principal?” Brie suggested.
“Perhaps phone her and ask for her opinion. She’ll agree you need to alert someone, and maybe she prefers to make the call.”
“Thanks, Mamá.”
Renata stayed where she was. “So, Federico is Italian, of course. Do you know where your ancestors came from?”
“Calabria. On my father’s side. My mother isn’t Italian.”
“We can forgive her for that,” Renata said dryly. “Have you traveled in our area?”
“When I was in the service, I had some leave. I only went to Rome, though.”
“A lovely, busy city. Alessio and I like to go there, too.” She squeezed Brie’s arm. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Then she squeezed Dante’s. “Prenditi cura della mia ragazza.”
“What did she say?”
Brie blushed. “Let’s call Maddie.”
He grasped her arm. “Not until you tell me.”
“She said, ‘Take care of my girl.’”
“Ah, good advice.”
They moved into a corner of the suite and called Madelyn. The principal said she’d phone Mrs. Simpson.
When they returned to the group, Evvie jumped up from her seat. “Dear Lord, Mike.”
They transferred their gazes to the field. The jumbotron showed Evvie’s picture, and was captioned, “Happy Birthday, babe.”
The announcer hooted over the PA system. “Jag is something else, isn’t he, Pete?”
Dante chuckled. “Wow, that’s romantic.”
Purposefully, Brie put her hand over her chest. “Be still my heart.”
“You tryin’ to make me jealous, babe?”
Brie giggled.
When the game wound down—the Nationals won——a man named Antonio came into the suite. “We’re ready to take you all to the limos through the private entrance.”
“Thank you,” the king told him. He put his hand on Sammy’s neck. “Would you like to see the limo, Sammy? And you, Anna?”
The boy’s eyes widened. “Yes, Mr. King. Er, what do I call you?”
“How about Alessio?”
“I’d like to see, too,” Anna said.
Papá crossed to Dante. “Thank you for coming up here, Dante. Perhaps we’ll see each other again sometime.”
Brie put her hand on Dante’s arm. “You will, Papá. I’ll be right along.” After the others filed out, Brie leaned into him. “I wanted a minute alone with you.”
Facing her, he rubbed her forearms and kept hold. “What did that mean, that I’d be seeing him again?”
She put her hands on his chest, pleased that she felt his muscles leap at her touch. “Exactly what I said. They’ll see you again. That is, if you want to.”
“Damned right I do.” Leaning over, he brushed his lips over hers. “We’ll talk Monday. Enjoy the weekend with your family.”
Chapter 6
Happier than he’d been in a long time, Sammy got some cereal out of the cupboard, milk from the refrigerator and a dish. As he shoveled Cheerios into his mouth, he thought about what had happened last night. It seemed like a dream, but it was real! Under his bed, he had the jersey that the king gave him as well as the program he scrimped to save for.
His mother walked into the kitchen. Shit, he’d hoped she wouldn’t get up early because she worked so late. “Hi, Sammy.”
“Hi.”
She made coffee—without talking—and in a few minutes, she took a seat across from him. “Honey, I know what you did last night.”
His face got hot. He knew the principal had called her because Mr. Federico told him.
“It isn’t okay to go to the stadium by yourself.”
“The stadium’s near Aunt Sandy’s.”
“I know, but still, you’re too young to go alone.”
“Cathy said I could go.”
“Your cousin shouldn’t have told you that.”
Staring down at his cereal, he tried to block her out. “Whatever.”
“I have to work, honey. So does your father. I make most of my tips on weekends.”
“I get it, Mom.”
“Should I hire a babysitter for you here?”
“I’m freakin’ twelve years old! People my age do the babysitting.”
“An adult, maybe.”
“With what, Mom? We don’t even got money for me to get new sneakers.”
“I’m saving for them, baby.” She closed her eyes and sat back. “I’m doing the best I can.”
Now he felt bad. “I know.”
“It hasn’t been easy these last years.”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You never do. But we need to.”
“What are we gonna say? Dad did a bad thing. I know what that thing is.”
“He touched a little girl in a way he shouldn’t.”
Stone-faced, Sammy said, “He went to jail.”
“And did his time. He’s trying to be better.”
“So he says. Why’s he living with us, Mom?”
“Because he’s your father and my husband. You don’t abandon somebody when they do something bad.”
“We’d be better off. Then maybe we wouldn’t have to keep moving around.” Sammy was having trouble breathing. “Forget about me going out alone. We won’t be here long. The neighbors’ll find out they live near a pervert and run us out.”
“Don’t call him that.”
He shoved back his chair. He didn’t want to think about all this. He wanted to think about the Jag, and the king, and how nice Mr. Federico was to him. “Whatever.”
“Sammy, don’t go.”
He raced out of the kitchen and out of the front door. Once on the street, he could breathe better. Goddamn it. He was happy for a change, and she’d ruined it. Like they ruined everything for him.
* * *
On Monday, Brie was walking down the hall, smiling, when she heard a thud. In an alcove where drinking fountains had been installed, she found Sammy wedged up against the wall, scrunched between two fountains. In his face were three big boys.
“Leave me alone,” Sammy shouted. Brie didn’t recognize the main perpetrator, but Madelyn had identified the boy from the locker room and this wasn’t him.
“Hell I will, asshole. We don’t wantcha here. My father said so.”
Damn! Before more insults could be hurled...or worse, punches, Brie sidled in front of Sammy. The bully didn’t step back. Someone shoved her to the side and her hip hit the drinking fountain hard. “Ouch!”
The three boys fled, probably because they’d hurt a teacher.
Sammy faced her. “Ms. Gentileschi? Geez.” His voice was quivery.
The pain had been sharp, but her head began to clear as it eased. “I’m okay, Sammy.”
“Does it hurt?”
“A bit, but no big deal.”
“I was trying to get you out of the way.”
“I’m fine, Sam.” Her hip was screaming. She’d have a beauty of a bruise.
“Please don’t report this.”
“Sammy, you didn’t do anything wrong. In any case, I have to alert the administration.”
“Mrs. Price will call my mother.”
“I’ll help with that.” As she stepped away, her hip ached more, making it weak and making her stumble. She went to grab the drinking fountain, but strong arms went around her. She looked up into Dante’s face.
“What happened?”
“Long story. We need to——”
Sammy circled around Brie and took off.
“Sammy wait!”
Dante’s grip on her tightened. “Never mind him. What happened to you?”
She explained the bullying. “Boy, am I glad Lexy’s coming in soon.”
His brow furr
owed and his jaw hardened.
“What?”
“You can’t stop fights.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you can’t stop fights.”
“Of course I can. I did.”
“And got hurt. Women, and smaller men for that matter, shouldn’t jump into ruckuses.”
“Well, I didn’t see Superman fly in to save the day.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I do.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me, Dante, if your Anna or Jack was being accosted, what would you want a nearby teacher to do?”
His face blanked, then he leaned back and closed his eyes. “Step in, I guess.”
“Right call.” He seemed visibly torn. She put her hand on his arm. “In some ways, I appreciate the concern. But you have to promise you won’t do this kind of thing again. Being able to take care of myself has become very important to me. And doing my job is even more important.”
“I understand. I apologize.”
“Accepted.”
But hard feelings remained in the air.
* * *
The vendors came from near and far to share their array of tasty food. From wood-fired pizza, to-go sandwiches, crab cakes and cookies and pastries, the scents of spice, dough and sugar filled the air. Brie strolled along the stalls next to Dante, on their first real date five days after the ballgame. Despite their clash early in the week, happiness, which had been elusive in the last year, rose inside her. “I didn’t know Dupont Circle had a farmer’s market on Wednesday night.”
“Yeah, my sister told me about it. I thought since you like to cook, this might be fun.” He wore twill khaki shorts that fit him well with a deep red polo shirt that heightened his coloring. He also carried green cloth bags to store their goodies.
“Hmm. I need tomatoes.” She stopped before a mound of them and picked one up. Its ripe scent reminded her of home, where the gardeners at the palace grew food. She loaded up four.
“If I’d known you were low on these, I’d have brought you some.”
She stopped short. Stared up at him. His brown eyes were amused. “Don’t tell me you have a garden.”
“Nope. Lucia’s husband. He works from home and likes to grow things. He plants a big lot for all of us to share.”
“What work does he do?”
“Computers. Apparently, he’s a whiz and can write his own ticket. He wants to start his own firm.”
“He sounds enterprising.”
Down the aisle a bit, they stopped at small green cardboard baskets of mushrooms. “Hmm, I know a dish I’d love to make with these.”
And so it went. They browsed. They bought. They tasted and they laughed. When they finished shopping, he asked, “I’ve been smelling barbeque all night. How about some for dinner?”
“Sounds great.”
Once food was retrieved, they took their dishes to a tent at a long table and sat across from each other. The canvas shut out the still-hot sun and fans cooled the area. A couple of times, his foot grazed hers and she thought about wiggling her toes against his skin. He lifted a fork.
“What are you doing? That’s no way to eat barbeque.” Brie picked up a piece of chicken with her hands and bit into it. Some parts fell off, but she didn’t even seem to notice.
He laughed. “You’re gonna get that pretty dress dirty.” She’d worn a light flowered print one, cinched at the waist and flared at the knees.
“I have spot cleaner at home that takes anything out. Besides, they’re just clothes.”
Admiration shone in his eyes. “Which look great on you, by the way. But I like the sentiment better.”
“Thank you.”
In between bites, Dante asked, “When are your parents going back to Casarina?”
“They left this morning. That always makes me sad.”
“It would me, too.”
“Papá liked you. He said you must be a good man to take such interest in a troubled child.”
“Thank you, Brie. That means a lot to me. When’s Lexy coming in to do the presentation?”
“Next Friday. That’s the soonest she can get the podcast made.”
“That’s fast, still.”
“She’s working on it with a psychologist Ryder hired.”
They finished their meal and Brie patted her stomach. “God, that was good. Close to back home.”
“Where everything is better.”
Daring to reach across the table, she covered his hand with hers. “Not everything.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask.” He turned his hand over and grasped hers. “Was there a boyfriend back there?”
“No. I was betrothed to a banker, but Papá rescinded all our arranged marriages after what happened with Calla.”
“You have betrothals in this day and age?”
“Yeah, but when it went sour for Calla, he did away with the archaic system.”
He linked their fingers. The gesture was intimate. “I’m glad you’re not promised to someone else anymore.”
When she stood, he did too. She asked, “Dessert?”
“Um, maybe to bring home. We’ll pick one out for each of us, and I saw Italian spice balls that my mother likes down the way.”
“And get anise toast, which is Mari and Lilly’s favorite.”
They picked up both of those confections plus little biscuits and fig bars. The floury, buttery scent accompanied them on the drive home.
After a few miles, he said, “Okay, I gotta have one.”
“One what?”
“Any of those cookies. The scent would tempt a saint.”
She fished out an anise one when they stopped at a light and took a bite of it. He snatched the cookie away and gobbled it down.
They arrived at Brie’s at dusk. He pulled into the driveway, but left the motor on. Brie made a split-second decision. “Want to come in?”
“Sure.” He switched off the car. “Maybe you’ll share more treats with me.”
“Of course.”
“It’ll be a treat. I don’t eat sugar or flour much.”
“Men! It’s like Mike Jagielski doesn’t drink coffee.”
The outdoor lights had turned on automatically and illuminated the driveway. They got out of the car and headed for the garage. Brie happened to look down and frowned at a clump of flowers on the right. “Huh. The peony bush is trampled.”
Dante squatted next to them. “Deer?”
“Maybe. Something stomped on them.” Bending over, she fluffed them up. “I hope they rebound.”
Once inside, Brie set the goodies on the counter, and Dante came up behind her. His hands rested on her shoulders. His touch felt good. She turned around.
“So, this was a date, right?”
A flirty smile. “It was a date.” She inhaled his woodsy scent and nearly shivered.
His face turned serious. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”
She cupped his cheek. “I’d like that, Dante.”
His arms went around her waist. He drew her flush with him. Oh, God, those muscles. She inched even closer until her breasts crushed against his chest. She stood on tiptoes, slid her hand to his neck and brought her mouth to his. He brushed his lips across hers. Back and forth. She pressed harder on his mouth. He groaned and increased the force. His tongue darted out, opened her lips and delved inside. She returned the intimacy and the sensual foray went on. Their tongues mated, mimicking sex, and Brie went moist. She’d almost forgotten what this kind of contact with a man felt like. It had been so long.
He drew away to murmur, “That feels so good, Brie.”
“Hmm, for me too.”
But he eased back even further. “We have to stop before we can’t.”
She shocked herself by saying, “I want to go further.”
His palm went to her breast, but he didn’t kiss her again. Instead, he searched her face as he kneaded and shaped and filled his palm with soft flesh. Their locked gazes
made the moment even more sensuous, more pleasurable. “Dante.”
“Brie.”
He grinned. She grinned.
Then he stepped away. “You pack quite a punch, princess.”
“You too, Dante. You too.”
* * *
Mariella hurried into the on-campus after-school care, Stepping Stones. Brightly lit, colorful rooms blended into each other, and she headed to the area for five-to-seven-year-olds. Yellow walls with big red letters on them greeted her. She spotted Lilliana and Yvette and two students she didn’t know at a table covered with more Legos than she’d ever seen in one place.
A few parents sat observing the girls so she joined them. The kids appeared to be building a city. A man was helping. Ah, that’s right. A visiting architect had come in today. Stepping Stones tried to present a variety of activities, including career presentations for the kids.
Someone sat down in the chair next to her. “Hello, Ms. Gentileschi.”
She looked over into the face of Jordan Dubois. The man had sculpted features that even Michelangelo couldn’t recreate. “Hello, Dr. Dubois.”
He raked back chestnut-colored hair, with both light brown and gold streaks in the mass, the latter caught by the overhead lights. “I thought I was late. I forgot what today was.”
“Me, too. I was running behind, so I’m glad for the visitor.”
He focused on the kids. The entire group chatted away, and every once and a while, one of them would speak in their native language. “That’s so cute,” she said. “One of the reasons I chose this place was because of the kids’ different cultures.”
“Yvette especially loves spending time with Lilly. But I think I caught a couple of French and Italian swear words one time.”
Mariella rolled her eyes. “Ha! My father isn’t careful around her. Of course, he wasn’t around me, either. And I don’t swear.” She glanced over at him. “Much.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Me, either.” Silence. Then, “How’s your school year going?”
“Well, thank you. Yours?”
“Challenging. I have some male students who keep me on my toes.”
And she’d bet he had some female students who swooned at his feet. Luckily, Mariella wouldn’t be one of them next semester.
