“No,” he says, somewhat bitterly. “Not yet.”
I reach for one of the books on the pile. “Can I have one? Maybe it will help me learn Italian.”
He holds the books away from me. “These are not for sale.”
“I’m not going to buy one, I’m going to borrow one.”
He narrows his eyes into mahogany slits. “You’re not going to borrow anything.”
I take my hand back and put it on my hip. “Why do you hate me so much?”
He jerks his head back. “I don’t hate you.”
“Then why are you acting like an ass?”
“Because you act like a little girl,” he says without hesitation.
My eyes widen. “You’re the one playing keep-away with books.”
“I do not know what keep-away is,” he says. “Now, please go make yourself breakfast or something.” He takes the books and goes back up the stairs into the attic.
“Little girls don’t know how to make breakfast!” I yell after him. Not my best comeback.
Still, I sigh heavily and head down the stairs and wrangle up some toast and olive oil to get me through the day.
* * *
Because Derio was in such a rotten mood, I was happy when the kids and Felisa got back from the gardens. That was until Felisa started acting harsher than usual, which was saying a lot. Thankfully, Alfonso and Annabella were on their best behavior around me. I could tell that the near-drowning really scared the crap out of them and made them be a little more considerate, even nice. We spent the rest of the day in the garden, and I managed to teach them a little bit about the plants and how to keep them healthy. I decided that in the future I would get them their own pots where they could grow easy herbs. That kind of stuff always kept me occupied and hopeful as a kid.
Sunday morning was a little bit better. I was allowed to sleep in again, even though last week Felisa had insisted I accompany them to church. When I woke up they were all just coming back, and though Alfonso and Annabella were relieved to be free from church in that overly dramatic way that involved flinging themselves over couches and moaning from the residual boredom, the tension was high between Felisa and Derio.
They were both snapping at each other in Italian, and at some point I had to say, “Hey, let’s all remember what we learned in church today,” which I assumed was something nice, of course. But the two of them just glared at me and went back to their bickering.
After another espresso, which had Felisa shaking her head at the noise (let’s be honest, I was trying to drown them out with the machine), the two of them disappeared into his office. I had my drink and sat down on the couch with the kids as they babbled to me in Italian about something or other while I sat there saying, “Non capisco” over and over again, trying to get them to speak in English.
Then someone from the office yelled, a door slammed, and Derio walked hurriedly out to the living room, paused before the three of us, and then asked how I was feeling.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, rather suspicious, considering all the mayhem and bad vibes.
“No concussion?”
“No,” I say slowly. “The cuts are healing up, and although it was nice to sleep in this morning, I feel pretty good.”
“Good,” he says and gives me a smile. It’s the first smile I’ve seen of his in over twenty-four hours, so it startles me a bit. Sometimes I remember how damn handsome he is, and it almost makes up for the fact that he’s been a dick lately. Almost.
I squint at him. “What do you want?”
He looks at Alfonso and Annabella. “Would you like to go to Ischia today with Amber?” he asks slowly in English.
Iss-sky-what?
The twins’ faces break out into wide, shit-eating grins. “Si! Yes!” they cry out and start jumping up and down on the couch.
“What’s Ischia?” I ask, worried.
“It’s another island, just north of here,” he explains. I can hear the impatience in his voice. “Felisa has taken them once before and they loved it. There’s an old castle up on a fortified hill, like an island attached to the island by a long road.”
I don’t know how I feel about this. “How far is it?”
“Ferries leave all the time,” he says. “If you go now, you can be there for a few hours and come back on the last boat.”
“But what do I do with them there?”
“I just said. There is the castle—Castello Aragonese, that is. It is just a short taxi ride from the ferry. It should occupy you all day.”
I frown at him. I know he’s trying to get me out of the house with the kids but the idea of going so far away with just me and them is a little nerve-racking. Hell, taking them into Capri town is nerve-racking.
“You’ll be fine,” he says. Then he adds, “The children will love you for it.”
I eye the twins. They are both staring at me with big, eager eyes. I sigh inwardly. I can’t really say no to those faces. And I can’t really say no to Derio since he’s my boss.
I raise my chin and nod at him. “Fine. Not a problem.”
He grins, though there is something uneasy about it. “Great, good. The next ferry leaves in an hour. Pack a bag and get down to the funicular. You can buy tickets at the marina.”
An hour doesn’t really leave us much time. I pack my tote bag in a hurry full of things we might need for the day and the kids put on more sturdy shoes and comfortable clothes at the speed of light. We leave the villa behind us, Alfonso and Annabella tugging on my hands as we jog up Via Tragara toward the square and funicular.