Chapter Twenty Six
Mateo starts sleeping with the stupid maid.
Since my brother’s love life has become a contest between me and Sal, he treats it like a victory. I inform him he has only won a battle, but I’m still going to win the war. We both win the greater pot—more time together. Now that Mateo’s tucked away with his pretty little distraction, I’m able to slip out to visit Sal after dinner four nights the first week.
It. Is. Incredible.
Friday I get to spend the night with him, and I decide to call myself off Saturday morning so we can have the morning together, too.
Sal and I make breakfast together. I sit at his table in one of his T-shirts after an amazing night of togetherness, and life is absolutely beautiful.
Sunday Mateo brings his maid to family dinner. She leans down to whisper intimately in his ear right in front of Mia, and he caresses the maid’s hand on the table. I’m not worried on a grand scale; it’s very like Mateo to be aggressively into a woman early on, then his interest tapers off as he figures her out and gets tired of her. Not Beth or Mia, but the flavor of the week types like the maid. The more intensely interested he is at the start, the faster he peels back the layers, figures her out, and finds her lacking in some area; consequently his interest dies as quickly as it started up.
I’m not worried about any of that. Mia is still with Vince right now anyway.
No, what ruins Sunday for me the bomb he drops at dinner about unfriendliness with the Castellanos family and how Mateo is “planning something” now because they’ve given him no choice.
I barely make it through the rest of the meal. I know I have to keep my cool in front of Mateo, but all I want to do is scream and cry.
I also have no idea what to do.
Telling Sal what Mateo said would be a complete betrayal. It’s exactly the kind of thing neither of us can do, and why we don’t talk about this sort of thing. But not telling Sal could be potentially dangerous for him.
All of a sudden the hypothetical question that spurned our only fight isn’t so hypothetical anymore: do I stay loyal to my own family and keep my mouth shut, or do I betray them for Sal?
It sounds like it should be fairly straightforward—I love Sal. Sal is wonderful. Sal deserves my loyalty.
But my brother murders traitors. Being his sister doesn’t automatically provide me any safety; he killed our disloyal older sister. That makes it a little more difficult.
I’m so sick to my stomach I go straight to bed after dinner. Then I decide to take a long bath instead, so I can cry out my frustration and fear in the only place in the damn house I have any privacy.
I wish I could talk to Adrian or Mateo and find out what they have planned, so I could better determine the stakes of my next move. Obviously I can’t, but I need someone who might know something.
So, when I leave the bakery Wednesday night, I pack up some cupcakes and go to visit Vince and Mia.
Vince invites me in, but as soon as I get there and see Mia sitting inside on the couch, snacking while she watches TV, I think about who gave them that house. My gaze drifts through the room, seeking out anything that might contain hidden cameras.
I don’t see anything, but it’s still a risk I’m not taking.
I also realize I’m not comfortable talking to Vince where Mia might overhear. I like Mia, I even trust Mia, but I trust Mia as a Morelli, not a Castellanos double agent. Apparently she lied to Meg about her history with Mateo, at the cost of making herself look like a cheating skank. I don’t know why she did that. I want to find out; I just have more important fish to fry right now.
Vince is still standing there, eyeing me questioningly since I’m just inside the door, not moving any farther inside.
“So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” Vince asks.
Mia holds out her bowl and looks up at me. “Pretzel rod?”
I shake my head, smiling faintly. “No, I’m good. Um, actually it was more a favor than a talk. Sorry, I was driving and I didn’t want to text and risk wrecking the car. My baker’s gone for the day but I need to rearrange something in the back and the bags of flour are too heavy for me to get up on the high shelf. I was wondering if you could run over there with me real quick and lend me your muscles.”
“Sure,” Vince says easily enough, kicking his shoes over so he can step into them.
“You should pick up dinner while you’re out,” Mia tells Vince.
“I can do that. What do you want?”
Grimacing, she asks, “Are you really prepared to have an hour-long conversation about what we’re going to have for dinner?”
Vince rolls his eyes. “Tell you what, I’m gonna go help Francesca, you text me when you figure it out.”
Mia nods, blowing him a kiss and going back to her show.
Once Vince gets the door shut, I remark, “You guys seem to be doing okay.”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” he agrees, glancing from his car to mine. “Since I’m picking up dinner after, we should probably drive separately.”
“Actually… we can just take one car. I’ll ride with you to pick up food.”
Vince frowns, stopping short on the sidewalk. “We should go to the bakery first.”
I hold his gaze wordlessly long enough for him to get it, then he slowly nods.
“Oh. Okay. One car it is.”
The ride starts off pretty quiet, both of us feeling awkward. Vince and I have always talked about stuff even if we shouldn’t—that’s why I knew about Mia when she was still a secret, and he knows about Sal even though no one else can—but I know I’m toeing a line today. I’m not just testing his loyalty to Mateo—which took a big-ass hit, understandably, when Mateo went after Mia—but I’m potentially putting him in danger by bringing him into my mess.
Finally, he asks, “So, what’s going on?”
“I hate to ask, but I have to know what’s going on with the Castellanos family.”
“You know I can’t tell you, Francesca.” He looks over at me, shaking his head. “You’re sleeping with the enemy.”
“But why is he the enemy? What did they do? What happened? Maybe Sal wasn’t involved.”
“He’s second-in-command,” Vince states, like I can’t possibly be that naïve.
He doesn’t like Mateo, but since he loves me, it’s somehow impossible for me to even consider Sal would move against my family. “We don’t talk about this stuff,” I tell Vince. “We know it’s sensitive, so we don’t, but I need to know if he’s in danger.”
“I think we’re all going to be in danger,” Vince states. “Stupid fucking Mateo can’t stop making enemies and he’s going to get us all killed.”
“He didn’t even do anything, did he?”
“Nothing new—not that I know of, at least.” He shakes his head regretfully. “I can’t tell you anything, Francesca. I can’t get you involved.”
“Is Sal in danger?” I ask again.
He doesn’t answer long enough for me to know I’m aggravating him, but he finally answers, “If he supports the moves his father makes, yes. Anyone who sides with Antonio is going to be at-risk.”
Fuck.
“You can’t tell me anything else?”
“I think you should ask him,” Vince states. “If you need more information about this situation and you trust him, bring it up to Salvatore. Ask him what his dad’s up to.”
My stomach thumps with nerves. “He won’t tell me that.”
Vince shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
I had hoped to get much more information from him, but he doesn’t give me anything more. We ride around aimlessly for a while, then Vince pulls out his phone to see if Mia texted about dinner. She didn’t, but he scowls, saying he needs to return a call anyway. He pulls off the road to get out of the car—presumably a work call, since I’m not allowed to hear it—then when he gets back in, he says he’s gotta go to work anyway.
---
We return to their house much faster than anticipated and without any food.
Vince doesn’t even follow me inside, just asks me to tell Mia he had to go, and then he backs out and heads off down the road.
Since I rarely have Mia alone, and because there’s nothing I can do about my more pressing issues, I decide to indulge my distraction.
Plopping down on the couch next to Mia, I turn to face her and smile. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” Mia says, grabbing the remote and muting the television.
I’m still cognizant of the potential for surveillance in this space, so I take a minute to think through my questions before I open my mouth. I don’t want her to say the wrong thing. I really don’t think she will, though. The whole reason I like Mia for him so much is because she’s more or less pure-hearted. I don’t anticipate her reason for lying to Meg was anything underhanded.
“I’ve heard some gossip about Mateo and the new maid, obviously.”
Mia nods, with me so far.
“I also heard someone told her about your history with Mateo, but when she asked you about it, you lied.”
Mia nods once more. “Correct.”
“So… why did you lie? Did he threaten you or something?”
“No, he never said a word to me about it. It didn’t seem like he cared very much about keeping it a secret to begin with, but…” Sighing, she curls her legs up on the couch and turns to face me. She grabs the remote, realizing we aren’t going to be watching, and flips off the TV. “This is really awkward to talk about,” she tells me. “Vince is still sensitive about it and I know you’re close to Vince, so I don’t want to say anything that might get back to him. He doesn’t even know I lied for Mateo—at least, I don’t think he does. It’s in Vince’s best interest, too, but I don’t think he’d see it that way.”
I shake my head a little more vehemently than I mean to. “I’m not here on Vince’s behalf. I’m not here to judge you for either one of them. I’m on all sides. I love Vince, but I also love Mateo. I just want to know why you’re letting the new maid think less of you when he’s the one she should think less of, if we’re being honest.”
“Well, that’s why,” she says simply. “I don’t want her to think less of him. He obviously likes her. If she makes him happy, I don’t want to get in the way of that. I want him to be happy. I felt like he was kind of lonely before, and I hated that. Meg really likes him and he’s going to keep her there regardless, so if I can nudge them both toward happiness, why wouldn’t I?”
“You care about him.”
Her gaze drops to her lap and she fiddles with the hem of her khaki shorts. “Yeah.”
“Even after everything he did?”
Somehow that manages to make her even less comfortable. “Yep,” she states, almost rebelliously.
“So, you didn’t lie because you were afraid of him. You lied to protect him.”
She shrugs, like she’s defensive about it. “Yeah. I made sure he hadn’t hurt her first—I was as responsible as I could’ve been. It’s hard with him because he’s ungovernable. It doesn’t matter what he does, he doesn’t have to answer to anybody else. I would’ve felt awful if I covered his ass and then he hurt her, obviously, but I don’t think…” She pauses to search for delicate wording. “I still don’t think he’s all bad. He can be unscrupulous when he’s pursuing one of his diabolical plans, but I still think there’s good in him. Now that I’ve shielded her from an ugly piece of history, they’re free from the damage and they can be happy together.”
I know how weird it is to ask this for so many reasons, but I can’t stop myself. “That doesn’t make you jealous, even the tiniest bit?”
Now she flushes, smiling a little self-deprecatingly. “I didn’t say that. But it doesn’t matter. I’m just a territorial person—but he was never mine to begin with, so…” She steals a glance at me, gauging my reaction to all this. “If I’m being honest though, that first night when Meg started asking me questions about sleeping with him, I sort of wanted to scratch her face off. Just a knee-jerk reaction,” she adds, grinning when I start laughing. “Obviously. I have Vince.” Her smile wanes a bit at her own reminder. “But, yeah. That’s why.”
“Do you like him, like him?” I ask impulsively.
“Francesca, I’m with Vince. And he’s with Meg now anyway,” she replies, eyebrows rising slightly, as if to reprimand me.
I roll my eyes. “He’s banging a pretty new maid; I don’t think anyone needs to start monogramming towels yet.”
“Francesca,” she says, laughing a little, but widening her eyes at me.
I shrug. “I’m just being realistic. You think he’s the first master of the house to sleep with the help? Don’t take it to heart. She’s just a warm body to pass the time with. Now answer me without worrying about her.”
“She’s not,” Mia disagrees, shaking her head. “She’s not even a maid anymore. He moved her into his bedroom a couple days ago.”
This is news.
“He did what?” I demand.
She grimaces apologetically. “Sorry. I assumed you knew. I knew, and I don’t even live there anymore.”
What the fuck, Mateo?
“He likes her,” she tells me, pressing her lips firmly together and shrugging. “He never really liked me. I was just a pawn to him. I was the warm body to pass time with.”
It breaks my heart that she thinks that. I wish I could tell her about the night she and Vince moved out when Mateo missed her. When he poured several thousands of dollars worth of liquor down his throat in an attempt to ignore his feelings for her. How he told me how much he enjoyed when she let him hold her, when he woke up to her snuggled up against him.
But I can’t, because there might be fucking cameras. He would be pissed if I told her that.
“You’re wrong,” I tell her, since I don’t know what else to say.
Mia breaks my gaze, training her eyes on the carpeted floor. “Well, if he ever did, he doesn’t now. I knew Vince and I would fall apart if we stayed at the mansion, so we left. Maybe things would be different if I would’ve stayed, but I didn’t. And Mateo let me go—he gave me exactly what I asked for, and he doesn’t strike me as a self-sacrificing man, so it couldn’t have cost him much. It was just a game to him, Francesca.”
“If you believe that, why in God’s name do you care if he’s happy?”
She shrugs, flushing and going back to fidgeting with her shorts. “I want him to be happy because I care about him, not because he’s done anything to deserve it.”
I can’t help shaking my head. “I can’t believe he moved the maid into his bedroom. What the hell is wrong with him?”
“It’s fine,” she says, offering a smile. “I’m fine. He’s good. I have Vince. He has Meg. We all win this way.”
“You earned him, and she just waltzed right in and scooped him up. She did nothing.”
“She has more game than I have,” Mia says lightly.
“She won’t last. At best, he’s bored. At worst, he’s rebounding. The maid is a temporary amusement. Don’t give up on him.”
“You’re a terrible influence,” she informs me, shaking her head in disbelief. “You always seem so proper, and here you are encouraging me to steal my ex-tormentor from his girlfriend.”
“She’s been his girlfriend for like three seconds,” I state. “And he already has to lie to her about who he is. He’s making a mistake if he’s really getting serious with her, but I don’t think he is. I’ve seen him with one girl like you, and I’ve seen him with countless girls like her; the girls like her never last.”
“I’m not sure there is another girl like Meg,” Mia states.
I push up off the couch, because now I’m determined to go talk to my brother. It’s almost dinnertime anyway, so he and Adrian will probably have a drink in the study. I need to catch him before we eat, because I need to talk to him before Meg shows up.
Not a maid anymore. What the hell, Mateo? Why does he always have to screw up his love life?
Mia stands up, too. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate your enthusiasm. I had no idea you even thought he liked me.”
“I know—” I stop short, shaking my head. Goddamn cameras.
“What happened to the girl like me?” Mia asks suddenly.
“What?”
“You said you’ve seen Mateo with girls like Meg, and you saw him with one girl like me. Why didn’t it work out with her?”
“She wasn’t loyal. She turned on him.”
“Well, she couldn’t have been like me, then,” she says simply, and I love her more. I want to hug her and take her home with me and force him to make her my new sister-in-law right now. We can all fly to Vegas and get it done.
Bye Meg.
She can be a maid again and fluff Mia and Mateo’s pillows.
Stupid poacher.
I can’t do any of that, so I just smile at Mia. “You’re right. My mistake.”
Mia follows me to the door, but when I get there, my mind sticks on something she said, the one thing I never did understand—why Mateo did what he did to her. It made no sense, and he never explained it to me. He knew he could’ve seduced her instead, but he didn’t. Why?
“What was the diabolical plan?” I ask, turning back to her. “The reason he… hurt you?”
“Oh. It was a loyalty test. He wanted to hurt me and try to make me hate him, then he sent some cops—at least, I guess they were really cops—to try to get me to talk about him. I didn’t. So he tried again. I didn’t know it was a test, but I warned him instead of trying to turn him in, so I passed.”
He gave her the fucking Beth test. Completely unfairly since Mia didn’t even care about him to begin with, and accelerated, since he never did anything like that to Beth to make her hate him… but he gave her the Beth test.
She passed the Beth test, then he turned around and let her go like an idiot.
Bet his maid wouldn’t pass the Beth test. The damn maid can’t even handle knowing what he did to Mia, so she certainly wouldn’t stand by him at his worst.
She’s so not right for him.
I have to fix this.