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“What’s this?”
“Hidden storage. Similar shelves line the entire hallway on either side.”
He turned in a circle. “That’s quite a lot of storage.”
“There’s more in the cellar. Oh, by the way, that’s where the laundry is located. There’s also another entertainment space and a bathroom down there.”
“One could certainly lose their way.”
I led him into the front bedroom. “Not really. Just look across to the other town houses, and you’ll see which floor you’re on.”
Brand chuckled. “Had to do that a time or two yourself?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, stepping away to read the text message on my phone. When I looked up, he was gone.
“Brand?” I called out when I didn’t see him in the back bedroom. “Where did you disappear to?”
I heard the elevator ding and watched the light change on the floor-indicator panel. When it stopped on the fifth, I raced up the stairs.
“Here you are,” I said, surprised to see him setting his bag down. “I thought you’d take one of the ones on the third floor.”
He shook his head. “More privacy up here.”
“Oh.” I was confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Wherever you’re most comfortable.”
“That would be here, and as you said, I should get some rest.”
“Sure,” I mumbled as I turned around to take the stairs back down, feeling dismissed.
“As I said, no need to trouble yourself for dinner. I may sleep straight through.”
That wouldn’t be happening, but I didn’t need to tell him so now. He’d find out for himself later.
Tara told me Brand could be moody, but this was the first time I’d witnessed it. What surprised me was how abruptly the change came about. It seemed to have happened when I checked the message on my phone. It was something he did from time to time too, so I don’t know why it would upset him. Maybe he thought I should share what it said, but I couldn’t. At least not yet.
I couldn’t let his surly demeanor sidetrack me, though. I was sure that after he got some rest, he’d be in a better state of mind. And if he wasn’t, the surprise I had in store for him would do the trick.
I spent the remainder of the morning putting the menu together. I’d decided what to serve as the main course earlier when I told Brand I knew his favorite—Linguine alle Vongole. Fortunately, it was easy to get fresh clams only a few blocks away, at the fish market.
I could get everything else I needed in the same area, between the produce market and the bakery. I’d have the wine delivered, but the rest, I wanted to choose for myself.
Rather than risk waking Brand by telling him I was leaving, I placed a note on the kitchen counter, then set out to get what I needed for his birthday surprise.
12
MICHELANGELO
Iwas standing by the window, looking at the view of the gardens below, when I saw my Butterfly walk across the courtyard. Where was she off to at such a brisk pace? Meeting the person she’d been chatting with earlier when we left the airport? Did she assume I’d sleep for hours and would have no idea she’d left?
When she’d demanded we refrain from having sex, I knew what was behind it. She was terrified of relationships. Especially ones where she didn’t feel as though she was in control. I’d agreed to what she wanted, knowing, given time, I’d prove my love to her. I’d show her every day that I was a man she could rely on, not just now but for the rest of our lives.
Was whatever assignation she’d set out on one of the tactics she used when someone got too close? When she let fear take over?
As hard as it would be for me, I’d not confront her about the text messaging or her leaving the house. For now, we were friends, and I was in this for the long run. It killed me to think she was meeting another gent, maybe even for sex, but I’d have to set those feelings aside for the time being. I loved Penelope more than any other man ever could because she’d never let someone else get close enough to truly know her. Not like I did.
I grabbed the book I’d taken off the shelf, the fictionalized version of Michelangelo’s life, hoping it was boring enough that I’d drift to sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, I knew from the change in light that I’d slept for a few hours, at least. I lay still, hoping I’d hear something to indicate Penelope had returned. Instead, the most divine scent wafted up the stairwell. Linguine alle Vongole. She was right when she said she knew my favorite. There was nothing I liked better.
