Page 33 of Unraveled

He nodded, that piercing gaze of his pinning her in place. “With you, Cara.”

Well, then …

“I have to grab a bag,” she said.

Gian gestured at her building. “I’ll be here when you get out.”

“This was not at all what I expected when you said real estate,” Cara admitted, taking in the old oak floors and outdated—yet beautiful—pieces of furniture in the two-level penthouse. There was nothing modern about the decoration of the penthouse, and even the light fixtures threw back to yesteryears, when Cara hadn’t even been alive. It was beautiful, to be sure, but old. “It’s like we jumped back in time about fifty years.”

Gian hummed under his breath, running his finger along the curved wooden arm of a chaise. Not a speck of dust was anywhere to be seen, yet the place looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years. “As far as I know, that was about the time he bought it.”

“He?”

“My grandfather.”

“Oh,” Cara said softly.

“Mr. Guzzi!”

Cara damn near jumped out of her skin at the new voice, though Gian barely moved a muscle except to smile at the newcomer. An older gentleman, and a slightly younger woman, came walking down a spiral staircase. The woman stayed behind the man, her uniform suggesting she was a maid of sorts, while the gentleman’s suit said something entirely different.

“We’ve been looking forward to seeing you, and taking you on a tour,” the man said, coming to stop in front of Gian with his hand extended.

Gian shook politely. “Yes, well, the tour won’t be needed, Derek, but merci.”

“But—”

“I think Cara and I can handle the exploring on our own for the weekend.” Gian gave her a wink over his shoulder. “Right, mon ange?”

“Sure, we can.”

She didn’t think he had any exploring in mind, to be honest.

“If you’re sure,” Derek started to say.

“Perfectly sure.”

“Penelope comes in to clean and dust Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays,” Derek explained. “She is done for the day, and all the beds have been stripped and changed.”

Something odd took over Gian’s features. Cara didn’t recognize it.

He cleared his throat, glancing upward at the ceiling. “And which room did he prefer? Or, which one did they use, so I can avoid that?”

“Well, Corrado hasn’t been here in more than a decade, Gian. And those items are long gone.”

Gian didn’t appear to care. “Which one?”

“The only one without a balcony,” Derek replied quickly. “Louise didn’t like heights.”

“Great. I have your phone number if we need anything, so …”

Derek and the maid seemed to catch on to Gian’s unspoken words quickly enough, and made themselves scarce. Cara only heard the quiet click of the front door closing before she turned back to Gian.

He had walked forward, further into the penthouse, toward a row of windows that still had wooden frames, and could be opened from the inside. He crossed his arms, staring out the windows at the old buildings across the way.

“Your grandfather hasn’t been here in ten years, but kept a maid on a three-day-a-week schedule?” Cara asked, confused.

“And Derek is on call, too, as he’s the building’s … well, like a consigliere, of sorts. This is one of the only suites in this building that hasn’t been renovated or updated in some way over the years. They would greatly like me to keep it that way, as it increases the value of the building as a whole, to say the original owner’s penthouse is in mint condition from when it was built fifty years ago.”