When I’ve put the last of our breakfast dishes away and folded the cloth she’d been flicking me with, the reason for our laughter, I follow her outside. She looks miserable, chewing on her bottom lip as she listens to the person on the other end of the call.
“I’ll be there,” she says before dropping into a nearby chair and throwing her cell on the low table in front of it. Then she places both hands over her face so I can’t tell if she’s crying or frustrated, and my good mood disappears just as quickly.
“Luce? Was that Pierre?” I ask, still not done with my questions about the asshole ex. I swear if it was him she was talking to, I’ll be demanding more information about the breakup, because this reaction is not right.
“No.” She huffs out a breath. “It was Papa. He wants me to return to Florence immediately.” Peeking through her fingers, she looks up at me. “I have to leave. I’m sorry this ruins our plans for today.”
“Hey, it’s okay. We can go to our cove next time. Come on, let’s get packed, and I’ll arrange our transport back to Naples, then onto Florence.” The family yacht is already moored in Capri’s harbor for my use this weekend, so we can leave almost immediately.
She drops her hands completely and stands to hug me. “Thank you. But you don’t have to cut your break short too,” she mutters into my chest while giving me a tight squeeze.
I hug her back. “Luce, it’s no fun being here without you. And this way I don’t have to travel back alone.”
“Thank you,” she says again, and I wish she’d stop.
From years of experience, I know when Lucia’s father demands to see her, it’s never good news and her stress levels spike. I’m just happy I can be the person she leans on for help this time.
“I hate that when Papa says jump, I still do.” She looks up at me, her almond-shaped eyes now glinting with anger. “One day, I’m going to just say no.”
“I know, but today doesn’t need to be the hill to die on. You have to choose your battles carefully, because the day you do disobey your father, he’ll make sure there’s hell to pay.”
This isn’t the first time I’ve tried to warn her about her father’s vindictive streak. I know from previous experience that the man hates to lose, especially where his daughter is concerned. And even though I’m not the weak kid I was when we had our disagreement years ago, I’m still wary of causing a repeat.
Lucia doesn’t even know he’s the reason I’ve insisted we keep our weekend escapes secret—nobody does. And I certainly don’t want to be the one to tell her what he did.
I’d stand up to Franco Romano now if needed, because he can no longer control me. But I worry that if Lucia ever truly defied her father, his wrath could destroy the independence she’s fought so hard for and the career she loves. He could remove everything that matters with a few phone calls to some of his powerful friends, and I may not be able to save her.
She steps out of my embrace. “Okay. Give me thirty minutes to pack, and I’ll be ready,” she says, already walking toward the doorway.
I make a quick call to the captain to prepare the yacht, then another to our driver in Naples, and a final one to the private charter company we use when the jet isn’t available. My packing will only take me minutes, and the lady who looks after the villa will handle the rest.
I’m disappointed our plans have changed, but at least we had yesterday together. And one day of swimming in Capri with Lucia is better than a week spent holidaying anywhere else. I miss the lazy summers we spent here together. Well, all of themexcept the last before I went away to college and Lucia was sent to Switzerland.
Only Lucia, Bruno, and I know what happened that last summer we were all together on the island. I scrub a hand across my face, wiping away the one memory that tainted all the idyllic ones before it. And the happier ones we’ve shared together in recent years. Lucia and the island will forever be linked in my mind as the best of times, and my asshole cousin will never take that away from us.
As I stare out to sea, memories of that day come back to haunt me in more vivid detail than I’d like to remember.
The shock of finding them together. The instantaneous pain of betrayal, so sharp it felt like a knife slicing through my flesh, as I watched their embrace. But then I realized there was something wrong.
Thankfully, Lucia never saw the damage I inflicted that day. It was the last time I saw her for several years. Her father sent her away early the next morning, and I was sent home to New York in disgrace for fighting with my cousin. No one knew why or bothered to ask. Not that I would have told them without speaking to Lucia first. But it finally gave her father the reason he’d been looking for to separate us, and without knowing the truth, he acted.
The thinly veiled threats to destroy me if I didn’t stay away from his daughter arrived shortly after. And as an eighteen-year-old kid, I was powerless to do anything but follow his demand.
Fuck, I hate that being in Capri brings back that day sometimes.It still makes me so angry thinking about Bruno getting away with what he did, and I want to punch him all over again. But it’s Lucia’s story to tell, and since she’s never wanted to discuss what happened, I figure she’s decided not to.
Raking both hands through my hair, I stand and walk back inside. I need to get my shit packed, or I’ll still be standing stuck back in time when she’s done.
***
Descending the stairs onto the tarmac in Florence, I roll my shoulders to knock out the kinks from sitting in the jet for the last hour. At least I’m more relaxed than I was when I left.
It’s hard to believe it was only a week ago that Gio and I flew to Naples for emergency meetings with the board. Spending time with Lucia, even if it was cut short, has taken away all of that stress. It’s like the laughs we shared while floating in the sea were an injection of energy directly into my veins, and I’m ready to dive right into getting the contracts drawn up.
“You got me a car? You’re the best,” Lucia says as she notices the two black SUVs parked near the hangar, the drivers standing beside the open back doors of each.
“Of course I’m the best. I’m your best friend,” I acknowledge as I join her at the bottom of the staircase.
Lucia was very quiet during the flight, and I know it’s because visits to her father make her nervous, so arranging her transport was the least I could do. She doesn’t need to arrive late to compound the worry that already has her chewing on her bottom lip.
