The Woman in the Back Room by Jessica Gadziala

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chpater Three

Santi

 

 

 

 

"What are you so antsy about?" Lorenzo asked, looking up from his phone as I paced around the kitchen, wishing there was a spare dish to put away or a crumb to sweep off the counter.

"I don't know how this is going to go over," I admitted.

"It'll be fine."

"Says a man who doesn't have a grieving son to worry about."

"Ottavio will be fine. I hear Alessa is very capable."

Very capable.

Not exactly a glowing recommendation. What was she like? Matronly? Motherly? Did she cook? Would she know the right things to say to my son who was starting to worry me? Would she be able to help drag him out of his depression?

Or would she just be a body in the house, a constant annoyance that neither helped nor truly hindered, but someone I would have to deal with regardless?

"What do you mean hear? Haven't you ever met her?"

"In passing, here or there. It's not like we're related to the Morellis, Santi. I don't see them at Sunday dinners or anything."

Yeah, I guess that made sense.

Hell, I couldn't even name all the Morelli brothers anymore. I'd only really ever known Gio. But there were several others.

"What time is it?" I asked since he was glued to his phone.

"She's got ten minutes still. Where's my nephew?" he asked.

All I'd gotten from him was a grumble when I told him there were bagels. Then he'd waited until I was in the shower to rush out and grab one.

"He hasn't been feeling social," I said, shrugging.

"Does he even know she's coming?"

"Yeah."

Sort of.

I'd told him that I was bringing someone in to be around on the evenings that work ran late, but he'd been rushing back off toward his room so fast that I wasn't even sure he'd heard me.

"There she is," he said when there was a buzz at the intercom. Emilio immediately let her up, leaving me to feel like I was sweating through my shirt as I waited to meet the woman who would be taking care of my son when I wasn't around, the woman I had to trust with the most important person in my life.

I don't know what I was expecting.

But the tall, fit woman with her brown hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, wearing black utility pants and a white tee under a black leather jacket, with combat boots and not a stitch of makeup on, looking all of seventeen—the attitude included—was not it.

"Is she even old enough to babysit?" I grumbled to my brother.

"She is even old enough to rent a car," Alessa said, arching her brow up at me.

"You'll forgive my brother," Lorenzo said, moving forward. "He has no manners," he added, tucking his phone away to reach his hand out toward the woman.

She eyed it for a second before taking it and giving it a rough shake.

"I won't hold it against him. I've been accused of the same thing," she said, giving him the ghost of a smile.

"I really appreciate you coming. And on such short notice. I know you're valuable to your father," Enz said, and something crossed the woman's eyes at his words. It was gone too quickly for me to analyze it, though. "This is my brother, Santiago," he said, turning to wave a hand at me. "Santi, this is Alessa Morelli."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, breaking the silence first since the stubborn set of her jaw said she wasn't going to do it.

"Yeah, you too," she agreed, giving me an incline of her chin and nothing more.

"This is the part where you're supposed to give the woman a tour," Emilio supplied, shaking his head at me.

"Right," I said, nodding. "This is the kitchen and living space," I told her, waving an arm out. "Then down the hall is my room on the right. The first door on the left is my son's room. The last is for you to use."

I'd had some of my brother's men help me move Brit's things down into storage after I was sure Ottavio was asleep, not wanting him to think I was trying to erase her, but also needing to make space for Alessa to feel comfortable.

My mother had swooped in at the crack of dawn to "spruce up the place." I hadn't been back in to see what she'd done before rushing out, saying something about a date. Though I was sure I'd misheard her.

"And this is where you show her to her room so she can put down her things," Emilio prompted, rolling his eyes at me.

"Of course," I said, moving in that direction. "Let me show you your room," I offered, going down the hallway with the unknown woman behind me, then waving her into her space without entering myself. "You have your own powder room, but share the shower room with Ottavio. Though, I don't imagine you'll be needing to do too many overnights. I don't typically stay out all night."

"Okay," she agreed, clearly as awful at social mores as I was. Which was not going to make for the most comfortable of arrangements. But it was only for two and a half months. By then, Lorenzo figured we would know who'd killed Brit. We would have made a move to make them pay. And then I wouldn't have the need to be away from home as much. Even if I did, though, I could hire an actual nanny instead of someone from one of the Families.

"I'll let you settle in," I said, moving away quickly, not sure what the discomfort was about.

"She's prettier than I remember," Emilio said when I moved back into the kitchen, going for the coffee pot.

"Yeah, just as moody as I remember," Lorenzo agreed. "But prettier. Don't you think?" he asked, looking over at me.

"I didn't know her in the past, so how could I remember how pretty she is?"

Though, yeah, she was.

She had the kind of face that her tomboyish way of dress and her surly attitude seemed at odds with.

Soft, sweet, feminine.

She had delicate bone structure, full lips, wide, expressive, and round eyes that were a striking golden-brown color.

Definitely pretty.

"You'd never know looking at her that she could probably whoop my ass," Emilio said, looking pleased at the prospect.

"Yeah," Lorenzo agreed. "Hard to imagine. She looks like a strong wind could knock her over."

"Would you like a demonstration then?" Alessa asked, making all three of us jolt, turning guiltily back toward her. Caught gossiping. That was never a good look.

"I'll play alon—" Emilio started as he walked toward her.

He didn't get to finish his sentence, though.

One moment, he was approaching Alessa.

The next, he was flat on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Ow," Emilio said, laughing.

"Satisfied?" Alessa asked, reaching an arm down, waiting for Milo to latch on, then hauling him back onto his feet. "I'm stronger than I look. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. And your son," she added, looking over at me.

"I believe that," I agreed.

Hell, I wasn't sure I would have been able to do a move that quickly. And I'd had a lot of training when I was younger.

"See, Santi, everything—" Lorenzo started, cutting off when his phone started to ring. "Excuse me," he said, moving out of the apartment and into the hall.

"So, Alessa," Emilio said, letting it hang.

"So, Emilio," Alessa shot back. "Nice belt buckle," she declared, looking down at the man's fist buckle, tattoos and all on the fingers.

"I know," Milo agreed, giving her one of his flirtatious smiles.

"No," I said, giving him a look that he seemed to immediately understand.

"Just being friendly. Since you can't seem to string more than a couple words together today," he shot back.

"I have a lot—" I started, but trailed off when Lorenzo came back into the apartment. There was something in his stride and his posture that put me immediately on edge.

"We need to roll out," he declared, giving Emilio a head jerk. It was some silent order. The two had been close for long enough that they didn't always need to say shit out loud for the other to understand. Whatever it was that was communicated had Milo making his way out of the apartment. "You're good here, right, Alessa?" Lorenzo asked.

"What? No," I said, shaking my head. "I haven't even introduced her to—"

"The kid that comes out of that room," Lorenzo said, cutting me off, looking at Alessa. "That's who you're supposed to take care of. Easy enough. There. Now, we have to roll," he said, giving me a hard look.

I wanted to ease Ottavio into this, be around as a buffer for their first introductions. But I wasn't always in control of every aspect of my life anymore. Not since I joined back with the Family.

"We'll be fine," Alessa said, shrugging.

"Here," I said, reaching into my jacket pocket for a pen, then grabbing a napkin to jot down my number. "This is my cell. Call or text if you need anything. Oh, and there's cash in the mug cupboard if you guys want to order food. And—"

"Let's go, Santi," Lorenzo said from the door to the hall. "She can handle it. Let's go."

"Text me when you get a second, so I can program your number, and keep you updated," I demanded, waiting for her to respond.

"Sure. No problem," she agreed, already reaching for her phone.

"If you need—"

"We're fine. Go. Before your brother drags you out of here by your tie," she added, giving Lorenzo a glance.

Then, with no other choice, I followed my brother out of my apartment.

And I left my recently motherless, grieving, sullen son with a woman I barely knew.