Tundra Witch

by SL Perrine

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to leave me alone. I will handle the affairs of our daughter and this house. You can handle your own…affair.”

  “How many times will you bring that-”

  Before he could finish his question, Mila’s bedroom door opened. “Papa, are you ready to read?”

  Giovanni’s flush face stayed trained on Gianna. He closed his eyes and took a breath before walking off without commenting or answering his daughter.

  “I’ll read to you, piccolo.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I’m not sure. I think papa is feeling ill this evening.”

  Gianna moved her daughter back into her room. The ample space was as big as her own with ivory carpets so plush it held their footprints as they walked across the room. Mila moved a sizeable white bear from the bed, throwing it on the floor amongst the rest of the throng of animals and things she had not put away.

  “My dear, you need to clean your room. This is absurd.”

  “I know. I’m working on it.” She looked from her mother to the mess strewn about the room.

  “For now, climb in.” Gianna pulled back the blankets and tucked them at the bottom of the bed. The window was open, and a light breeze moved in across her skin, cooling her temper.

  They laid on the bed and pulled a large book close to them. “You’re fighting again, aren’t you?”

  “What? Why would you say that?” Gianna smoothed the hair from her daughter’s forehead and kissed her temple.

  “I know his faces. I know what that one means. He’s not happy about Jax. Please don’t let him send Jax away. I don’t know how I know, but he’s special. He’s supposed to be here, mamma!” Mila moved around on the bed, so she was facing her mother.

  “No. No, my, love. We were not discussing Jax, and nobody is going to send him away. I promise. I will do everything I can to make sure your Manny is here to stay. Now, hush. Relax.” Gianna pet her daughter’s hair and pulled it back away from her face and began to braid it. “Read to me, piccolo.”

  “You were going to read to me, remember.”

  “That I was. Okay.” She folded her daughter up in her arms and read her a story until Mila’s eyes became heavy.

  When she got up to leave the room, she focused on her daughter, looking in the mirror above her long dresser. Nothing. Again, the images would not come. Either something was blocking her power, or she was losing them. She had to find out. She had to trust in her daughter’s magic and know that if Mila felt Anthony needed to be here, then he must.

  Chapter 6

  Anthony stares at the ornate, alabaster carved ceiling above him. The concentric designs arrayed across its entire expanse gave his eyes plenty to take in. Especially since his body refused to respond to his commands to get out of the California King sized bed he currently lay in. He had never slept so well. If he had not slept on clouds last night, then it was undoubtedly the closest thing to it on earth.

  The sheets were of a material he never felt before, probably Egyptian cotton or bamboo. Something he could never afford with his old job. He had not bought these with his money either. They were on the bed when he crawled into it after dinner with the Moretti’s the night before.

  The Moretti’s. They were an enigma to him. Gianna Moretti was a walking contradiction between appearance and personality. She was so stunningly beautiful she could easily rival any supermodel he could think of. Although attracted to her on a physical level, the way her attitude could switch from pleasant and appealing to vitriol and condescension put him off. He still tried to give her the benefit of the doubt due to her husband.

  He was a pill. One could almost forgive Gianna’s personality after meeting her husband; living with him would take a toll on anyone. Giovanni Moretti was a severe man. Anthony could think of no other word that described him more. Severely wealthy, severely callous, severely abrasive, and harshly dismissive, except when it came to Mila. How the Moretti’s could have such a beautiful, conscientious, well-rounded child was beyond him. Anthony decided to chalk it up to the influence of her tutors and any other positive role models that passed through her life.

  Mila. She was counting on him. Why? He had no idea. The thought of spending the day with Mila drove him from under the covers of the bed. Padding across the soft, carpeted floor in his underwear, Anthony peeked through the blinds. The birds were just waking up and heralding the coming dawn.

  Anthony was about to take a shower when he remembered the workout room and Gianna’s comment about being in shape if he was to chase around after Mila all day. With a resigned sigh, after dressing in a sweat suit, Anthony went to work out for the first time in years after a short stop in the kitchen to start some java brewing. Coffee was always its own reward.

  Entering the torture chamber, Anthony chose the treadmill, as it seemed the least intimidating of the machines within. After taking a few minutes to figure out the settings on the device, he was steadfastly trudging along. The monitor before him displayed an ever-changing terrain with an overly fit, overly cheerful woman that alternated between encouraging and taunting him not to give up. The treadmill portion of the machine rose and fell in synchronicity to the changing topography on the video. He rose to the challenge and forced himself to complete the regimen.

  When Anthony reached the end of the run, he grudgingly admitted to himself that the video trainer seemed to help. His time to completion would never impress anyone, but he felt a sense of accomplishment. With the high amounts of endorphins coursing through his bloodstream, Anthony attacked the other machines. An hour later, able to wring water out of his clothes, Anthony bypassed the kitchen to shave and shower.

  The pulsating water helped to soothe his swollen muscles, but he knew the worst was yet to come. The muscle pain would kick in forty-eight hours from now. It was a start. Shutting off the water, Anthony dried himself, went to the closet, and chose a suit cut entirely in black. He had been a little reluctant to wear something so dark with only a red tie to offset the pattern. The tailor had ensured him it would look fantastic. As he stood in the full-length mirror and observed himself, he had to agree

  “That man knows his business,” Anthony says while turning left and right to view himself from all angles.

  The smell of coffee reminds his stomach that several hours have elapsed since anything filled its void. It grumbled in protest, and he let his nose lead him back to the kitchen where Gianna is sitting at the counter drinking coffee. She appears as if she’s been up and about her day a couple of hours longer than he. As usual, she looks fantastic; and Anthony busies himself with finding a mug for some coffee of his own so he won’t stare.

  “I heard you on the treadmill this morning; at least you’re attempting to get in shape,” she says snidely before raising her mug to him. “One thing is for sure, you make good coffee.”

  “You can always fire me as Mila’s Manny and hire me to brew and fetch coffee for you, ma’am,” Anthony replies in a voice barely concealing his aggravation.

  “Or add that to your list of duties. You can deliver it to me when I wake at four,” she fires back with an edge.

  “If that would make you happy, Mrs. Moretti. Would you like breakfast with that as well? I’m no cook, but I’m sure I could coordinate with your chef to reach a reasonable compromise that might be adequate.”

  “Wonderful! That would ease my morning burden greatly, perhaps I could find other chores for you to…” Gianna trails off and is silent for a moment before collecting herself. “I’m sorry, Jax, sometimes I speak without… I didn’t come to upset you.”

  “Why are you here, Mrs. Moretti? I thought I could expect, at least, a small measure of privacy in my quarters.”

  Gianna’s demeanor becomes combative again. “You overstep yourself, Mr. Jackson.”

  “I think this was a mistake, Mrs. Moretti,” Anthony says as he removes his tie and tosses it on the counter. “I’ll change back into the clothes I cam
e here in and clear off before Mila wakes.”

  “Jax, wait…” she calls after him as he stalks out of the kitchen. Anthony ignores her and hears the ceramic mug clink on the marble countertop behind him followed by the sound of heels on slate tile. “Jax… Anthony… Mr. Jackson.” Gianna finally calls imploringly as they enter the bedroom.

  Anthony whirls on Gianna with a venomous tone. “What, Gianna? Would you like to humiliate and degrade me some more? Remind me how beneath you, your husband, and your daughter I am?”

  “Jax, I…”

  “Don’t interrupt when I’m speaking, Mrs. Moretti!” Anthony growls while abruptly closing the distance between them. “I may be what your family considers low bred, and I may not have had, or created, the opportunities in my life as you have yours; but I consider myself a man of honor and I have my pride. I won’t allow you, or anyone else, to talk down to me for any reason.” Anthony advances on Gianna further, and she retreats in the face of his anger until a wall impedes her escape. His breath hot on her face; he continues his tirade. “Up until now, I’ve tolerated your attitude, for Mila’s sake. I will tolerate it no longer. I don’t have to. And, because I know you and your husband do not understand the concept of humility, I will save you the trouble of firing me for the offenses you’ve given.”

  Anthony glares into Gianna’s eyes, his gaze daring her to speak. Gianna glares back defiantly. Their eyes lock and, without meaning for it to happen, Gianna’s ability to see in time manifests, but not in the manner she’s used to. In the space between heartbeats, unbeknownst to Anthony, she descends into his mind; thrust into his memories as if she were living them herself.

  Gianna is holding her father’s hand as a doctor gives him a cancer diagnosis. A memory montage of chemotherapy treatments follows while her father grows increasingly frail. Her memory skips forward, and she’s making the decision to sell her home to pay for her father’s continued treatment. Amanda, her sister, has too many financial burdens of her own caring for six children since her husband lost his life in Iraq. She cannot know of Gianna’s sacrifice. She moves into her father’s home and takes leave from work to care for him. Another skip.

  She watches, helpless as her father draws his last breath in this world; his hand going limp in hers. Her tears are hot on her cheek as she kisses the forehead of the man that once cared for her while feeling the anguish of his loss. The memory skips forward, and Gianna relives the call with her sister to tell of their father’s passing. Another skip. They’re lowering her father’s casket into the ground while she, her sister, and her children say heart-wrenching goodbyes. She feels embarrassed because there isn’t a stone marker to commemorate the life of this remarkable man. The sale of his little estate is barely enough to cover the expenses accumulated by her father’s illness.

  Another skip. A man telling her she didn’t file her leave papers correctly and the company she works for is terminating her employment. With no place to live, no further finances coming in, and a hundred dollars in her wallet, she shoulders the burden stoically. A flash of a park, a strange memory she can’t see obscured in grey as if it didn’t belong to her; and, unexpectedly, she’s looking at a little girl struggling in the arms of two scary men. Only she can help her; there is no one else.

  She feels a calm settle over her as she prepares for battle. There’s steel in her spine, strength in her limbs, resolve in her mind and, something else. Something strong, vicious, almost monstrous in its manner. She will defeat these men or die to try to save this child. Another skip. A paramedic assists her to rise. The little girl is safe. She is introduced to a beautiful woman with cold eyes and a hard demeanor; and Gianna understands she’s looking at herself, that these are Anthony’s memories.

  The thought jars her back to the moment. Gianna gasps sharply as the gamut of emotions slowly resolve into just one belonging to her. Admiration for the man before her; his strength, his kindness, and his heart. After everything he has recently endured, he’d still interjected himself between her daughter and harm. Anthony, taking Gianna’s gasp as a sign of fear, turns away and kicks his shoes off. The hand Gianna had meant to place upon his cheek falls back to her side.

  “I’m sorry, Gianna. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Anthony says while undoing the buttons on his suit. “I lost my temper.”

  “Anthony, please don’t go. I’m the one who should apologize to you,” she rattles off in a rush of words.

  “It’s probably best for all of us,” Anthony replies.

  Gianna steps forward and lays a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t leave. We… Mila needs you.”

  Anthony fixes her with sad eyes. “No one needs me, Gianna. I’m what’s left over when life goes on.”

  “You’re wrong, Jax. Mila needs you. She has attached herself to you like no one before, and it would break her heart if you left. Please, don’t leave.”

  Anthony is silent for a while before he nods his silent agreement.

  “Wonderful. Compose yourself and meet me in the kitchen and we’ll discuss Mila’s itinerary over coffee. Please,” she adds quickly as she returns to the kitchen.

  Anthony slips into the shoes he recently discarded and follows Gianna a moment later. He sits at the nook, and Gianna hands him a fresh cup of coffee. It’s then he notices the itinerary lying at the opposite end of the counter.

  “That’s her schedule?”

  Gianna laughs lightly. “This is where I shall meet you once a week to go over her schedule, or any changes her father or I may decide upon. We can meet on Sunday morning for coffee, or Monday morning at five.”

  “A.M.?”

  “Yes. As much as you’re looking for respect, and I will grant you that we have been inadequate in that regard, I am still your employer, and I expect you to adhere to a schedule. My schedule. This is not just your quarters, as you said, but my home. This is a reasonable space to meet. It is where I have met with the nanny’s in the past.”

  “Fine. I would prefer Monday mornings.” Anthony moves to the cup Gianna has refilled for him. Although she tries not to, Gianna trains an eye on him while showing him the paper in front of her. Anthony retrieves the tie from the counter and slips it over his head but leaves it loose.

  “Your appearance is expected to be presentable when out in public with Mila. Within the Manor, you may dress casually. You are not just working to take care of her. When you are in the public eye, you are a representative of this house. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Mr. Moretti is thee Moretti, of the Moretti Law Associates. He’s well respected throughout the state, and we ensure not to tarnish his name by looking less than exceptional. Since we provide wardrobe for all our household employees, we can ask that of them, and you.”

  “So, this is not just about Mila?” he asks sipping his coffee.

  Anthony still has not fixed his tie, and Gianna fights the urge to pull him over the counter by the noose around his neck. She adjusts herself on the stool and crosses her legs, one heel bouncing in the air. A nervous tick she hopes he does not pick up on.

  “No, I thought it was about time to go over your duties and what’s expected of you. The coffee at four in the morning…that’s not, I mean you’re not expected to wait on me. Just Mila.”

  “Fine, please continue.”

  Gianna stopped herself from biting her lip. “Mila will be up and ready to go by seven on weekdays. She will meet you in the foyer outside your apartment where Nico will have your car waiting. From there you can follow the daily itinerary. The two of you may dine together for breakfast and lunch. Mila will be at the table for supper with her father and me. You’re not expected to attend, but you may if you’d like.”

  Gianna stood from the stool and began pacing the room. “I’ve spoken to my husband, and you are not expected to report to him. You are, from this day forward, my employee, and do not deal with him directly. I will give him reports on Mila’s progress with her studies, lessons, and extra-curricular activities. I also expect her to get i
n a bit of... he wants all the boring stuff…well, nonsense if you ask me,” she wrung her hands together and chanced a look in his direction. He seemed adamant to keep his eyes diverted from her entirely. “Jax, I want her to be a kid. She needs to have fun.”

  Anthony’s head snapped up. “You mean you’re okay with a little…”

  “A small amount of rambunctious behavior is healthy.”

  He smiled widely at her, but before she had a chance to swoon, he looked down at his cup again, bringing it to his mouth to finish his coffee. He placed the mug in the sink and fixed his tie. “Consider it done.”

  “Good. Well, enjoy your Sunday. She’s in the foyer waiting for you,” she began to turn away but stopped. “You are also not on duty twenty-four seven, though you may be required to attend Mila at strange hours on occasion. Generally, you’re relieved of your Manny duties every night at seven, which is when chef serves dinner. I spend most evenings with her and won’t need your assistance. You have every third Sunday off. Also, the third floor of my wing is off limits. You may help yourself to any of the other rooms.” She didn’t linger, but let her feet carry her out of the room before he could comment.

  Chapter 7

  Anthony watched Gianna go, his eyes tracking the gentle sway of hips attached to her hourglass figure. The woman was exasperating. Stunning, but exasperating nonetheless. He picked up Gianna’s coffee mug and placed it in the sink beside his own while noticing that there was not any lipstick on the rim. The thought made him think of her full, perfect lips. He wondered how they would feel against his own.

  “Stop it, Anthony,” he chastised himself with a shake of his head. “The woman is a pain in the ass.”

  He goes through the drawers until he finds a washcloth. He runs some water from the sink over the washcloth and dumps a little soap on it. He picks up one of the cups from the sink and is washing it out when Mila raps twice on his door and enters.