“Please call me Valentina,” I said quickly. “Both of you.” I smiled at Zita but she didn’t return the gesture. Her lips were pursed and she was scanning me from head to toe with a look of disapproval on her face.
“It would have been nice to meet you before the wedding,” Zita said haughtily.
I forced my face to remain calm even if I didn’t like her tone. I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with the service personnel in the house. “Dante never invited me, and I didn’t think it appropriate to invite myself.”
She huffed. “He introduced Mistress Carla to us before the wedding.”
I stiffened at the mentioning of Dante’s first wife, couldn’t help it. I could hear the judgment in her voice. She thought me less worthy than Carla. I had a feeling she wouldn’t let me forget it. I wasn’t looking forward to a battle of wills with her, and I definitely didn’t have the patience for it today. I looked around the kitchen instead, trying to pretend I wasn’t bothered by her comment. “So did Carla cook here often?”
Zita gave me a shocked look. “Of course not. She was the mistress of the house. She didn’t cook or clean. That’s what I and Febe did, before Gaby took Febe’s place.”
Gaby shifted nervously. It was clear that she didn’t know what to do.
“Well, you can expect me in the kitchen often. I love to cook,” I said.
Zita straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know if Master Dante will allow it.”
I took a sip from my coffee, returning her gaze steadily. “Dante told me I could do whatever I want.” She looked away from me with a frown. I knew it wasn’t over yet.
“Why don’t you show me the rest of the house, Gaby? I need to make sure I’m ready when Aria arrives.”
Gaby bobbed her head quickly. “Of course, Mis…Valentina.”
She led me into the room behind the kitchen. It seemed to be a sort of common room for the staff. There were two cots, a small TV and a couch. No chairs or table, but I assumed the staff usually gathered around the wooden table in the kitchen, since it obviously wasn’t used for Dante’s meals. There was also a small bathroom with a shower behind a white door. “Is this where you and Zita spend your time when you don’t work?”
Gaby shook her head. “We stay in the kitchen. This is mostly for the guards because they spend the nights.”
“Where are they now?” I hadn’t seen any guards so far.
“They are outside. Either patrolling the grounds or in their guardhouse.”
“Are there security cameras?”
“Oh no, Mr. Cavallaro didn’t want them. He’s a very private man.” No surprise there.
She headed toward another door. “This way.” We stepped into the back part of the lobby. Gaby pointed at the two doors in the hall. “This is Mr. Cavallaro’s office, and that’s the library. Mr. Cavallaro doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s in his office.” She flushed. “By us, I mean. He’s probably happy to be disturbed by you.” She bit her lip.
I touched her shoulder. “I understand. So are there other rooms on this floor?”
“Only the living and dining room, and the guest bathroom.”
As Gaby led me upstairs, I asked. “How old are you?”
“I’m seventeen.”
“Shouldn’t you still be going to school?” I sounded like my mother, but Gaby’s shy nature brought out my motherly side even though she was only six years younger than me.”
“I’ve been working for Mr. Cavallaro for three years. I came into this house shorty after his wife died. I never met her but Zita really misses her, that’s why she was rude to you.”
My eyes grew wide. “For three years? That’s horrible.”
“Oh no,” Gaby said quickly. “I’m thankful. Without Mr. Cavallaro I’d probably be dead, or worse.” She shuddered, a dark look passing in her eyes. I could tell that she didn’t want to talk about it. I’d have to talk to Dante about her later. She quickened her pace and pointed at doors on this floor. “These are guest bedrooms. And beside your Master bedroom, there’s a room you could use for your own purposes. The nursery and two additional rooms are on the third floor.”
My eyes rested on a door at the end of the corridor that Gaby had ignored. I headed in its direction. “What about this one?”
Gaby gripped my arm before I could turn the handle. “That’s where Mr. Cavallaro keeps his first wife’s things.”
I had trouble keeping a straight face. “Of course,” I said instead. It couldn’t be locked or Gaby wouldn’t have stopped me from opening it. I’d have to return alone, and find out more about the woman who was casting such a huge shadow on my marriage.
***
One hour later I showed Aria into the living room. It felt strange to act like the mistress of the house; as if I was an impostor. Aria looked tired when she sank down on the sofa beside me. Dark shadows spread under her eyes. I supposed she had a longer night than I did.
“Coffee?” I asked her. Gaby had set up a pot on the table, as well as assorted cookies.
“God yes,” Aria said, then smiled apologetically. “I didn’t even ask you about your night. You probably got less sleep than me.”
I poured her coffee and handed her the cup as I tried to come up with a reply. “I slept okay,” I said evasively.