The Marriage Merger

Chapter Eleven


Julietta studied the tilt of the painting and wondered how it had gotten knocked askew. Her skin prickled as her usual oCD grabbed hold. Carina had sent it to her as a gift, and the image calmed her each time she looked up. She’d decided to put it in her office rather than her home since she spent most of her time here, especially with the subject matter.

Her papa sat at the head of the carved pine table in their kitchen. Plates of food, baskets of bread, and wine bottles were scattered across the surface. A blur of shadows made up the members seated around him, their faces not visible but the target of her father’s stare. His hands clasped in front of him, dark eyes filled with a naked love as he looked at his family. Gray hair carefully combed back from his forehead, his face a mass of lines from both weari-ness and laughter, his long Italian nose dominating his features.

Their relationship had been different. She was defi-nitely Daddy’s girl, but it went deeper, a type of shared understanding between them that La Dolce Famiglia was the backbone of the family’s sweat, blood, and tears. The respect she had for him and the way he worked to make her mother’s dream a reality pushed her to consistently do better. For him. For her. For everyone.

Julietta loved looking at the painting when she was thinking over a business decision or when the employees left for the day and she stayed behind alone. As if Carina knew Julietta needed someone to look after her.

She wondered if Sawyer had ever had that experience in his life.

Julietta had stayed up all night analyzing every detail of their last encounter like a lovesick teen. The way he demanded she deal with him and her emotions. The way he never crumbled or became intimidated by her cool words, choosing instead to look beyond and find the truth. Her head said to stay away, but her body and heart cried out for more.

While she tossed and turned and waited for dawn, an odd truth finally revealed itself. She took many chances in her work world but had never taken one leap in her personal life. over and over she walked away from complica-tions or the threat of unrest in her safe little bubble. Now, all her siblings were happily married, starting families, and she was still alone.

Julietta drummed her nails against her desk and focused on her papa. Would he be proud of her? or would he have shaken his head in regret at her inability to take a leap? Though he’d frown on engaging in a sexual affair with no permanence, Julietta knew she had to follow it through.

Sawyer gave no guarantees, but he was truthful. For now, she wanted to throw caution away and engage in a heady, passionate affair that might lead to more. It was time she took a chance on a man who made her experience emotions she never believed possible. The next time she saw him, she’d be clear about her intentions.

With a satisfied smirk, she rose from the desk and kicked off her shoes. She’d go nuts if she had to look at the crooked angle one more moment. Julietta dragged over the cream-colored chair and climbed up. She stretched out her fingers but only brushed the edge. Hmm, the furniture was heavy enough that if she stood on the top wooden arch of the chair she’d just be able to right the painting. She yanked up her skirt a few inches for better reach. Propping one hand against the wall for balance, she stepped up, wobbled, and clutched the edge of the heavy gilded frame. one inch. Two. one more toward the right and— “What are you doing?”

The familiar voice boomed through the room. Startled, she scrambled for footing, slipped, and fell back into nothingness.

The automatic yell of fear died on her lips as strong arms broke her descent. The breath whooshed out of her as she slammed into a hard muscled chest. He staggered back one step, two, then righted himself. She looked up and fought the immediate urge to cover that sensual mouth with hers. Mio Dio, he was physically perfect. A face straight from heaven, with lips blessed by the demons.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His brows drew together in a fierce frown, and eyes as golden as buried treasure shot sparks of anger. “Can’t you ask for help with anything? Are you so much a control freak you’d rather break an ankle than let a man move a goddamn painting?”

Her gratitude died in her throat. Julietta found her footing and broke out of his embrace. Shoulders thrown back, she carefully slid on her heels and shot him a glare. “Why?

Is it easier for a man to move a goddamn painting even though he’s the same height as me? Because I’m taller than most of my employees. I don’t have a penis, though, so that must make a difference.”

“oh, for God’s sake, I meant ask anyone! How about your secretary holding your legs so you at least have a spotter? or does that compete with your ‘I am woman, hear me roar’ crap?”

She gazed back at him in icy stillness. “I was just straightening a painting, Sawyer. Not trying to prove a point for equality of the sexes. Maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so pissed off you can’t control my actions?”

He spit out a humorless laugh and shoved his fingers through his hair. of course, that only gave him the tousled, right-out-of-bed look that curled her toes in her sensible pumps. “Do you always have a smart-ass answer?”

“I always have an answer, period. Why are you so upset?”

He muttered something under his breath. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

She studied the faint lines under his eyes and the strain around his mouth. Her anger burned away, and she took a step closer. “Mi dispiace, can I help with anything?”

She reached out to touch his arm, but he took a hasty step back. She stared at him. A cold ball of dread settled in the pit of her stomach at his inability to meet her gaze and the panic on his face. obviously, he didn’t want her to touch him. Which meant— “I thought about what you said last night.” The words seemed forced from his lips, but she made herself stand still and listen. “I think you were right.”

She refused to give him the satisfaction of letting him believe he meant something to her. Julietta forced a smile.

“I’m so glad. I was afraid it would be strange between us, and this deal is more important than a—what do you Americans say—a roll in the hay?”

His gaze lifted and pinned her. He looked deep, saw the lie, and accepted it anyway. Sawyer nodded. “yes. Thank you for putting up with me. I promise not to make you un-comfortable again.”

“of course. Are we still meeting today at three?”

“yes.”

“excellent. Thanks for coming to say this in person.”

“you are welcome.”

The excruciating politeness hurt more than knives rak-ing blood. Desperate to get him out of the office before a fissure broke in her facade, she turned and grabbed a file from her desk. “I better get back to work. See you later.”

She tore through pages where words blurred and heard the door open.

“I’ll never forget those two nights together, Julietta.

your gift to me was—priceless.”

He left. Julietta looked at the painting, now perfectly straight, and suddenly knew why she never took risks in her personal life.

…

When Sawyer got the call, he originally planned to give her an excuse and say he couldn’t make it. After all, he wasn’t lying. His schedule was packed tighter than a woman’s luggage. The last thing he needed with his sudden emotional upheaval was seeing her in the center of the storm. Hell, no. Unfortunately, she was just as stubborn as when he’d first met her, and she’d forced his hand in the only way he’d never refuse.

She’d simply told him she’d be waiting.

Sawyer grabbed for his patience while she served him a cup of strong espresso, less than twenty-four hours after he’d walked out of her home. After many minutes of polite chatter, Mama Conte finally sat across from him, took a sip of her brew, and leveled her gaze.

“I want you to marry my daughter.”

Sawyer looked around for the camera. Son of a bitch.

He’d seen Punk’d on MTV, but hadn’t it been canceled?

Betty White’s candid camera spoof was about old people.

or maybe this was a modern day version of Scare Tactics?

A grin curved his lips. “Sorry, I know about these shows.

you’re not getting me.”

A frown marred her brows. “What shows?”

His grin faded. Come to think of it, why would anyone want to tape this anyway? “I’m sorry, I think I misunder-stood. Did you say you want me to carry your daughter?

Carry her where?”

“Sawyer Wells, do not play stupido with me. I want you to marry my daughter Julietta. The one you are sleeping with.”

A strange squeak emitted from his lips. He’d heard the sound before—usually from weaker men who’d just realized they’d been outwitted and outplayed for food, shelter, or money. odd, he’d never been driven to make the sound before now. Kind of pathetic. reminded him of those mob movies like Goodfellas where the patsy rolled over and whined like a girl while he got the shit beat out of him.

What had she said?

“We’re not sleeping together.” Her disappointed look at his lie made him throw his hands up in front of him.

“We’re not.”

“you were the other night.”

Jesus, this was so not happening. Time to man up and take control of the ridiculous conversation. “okay, yes, we were. We did. But now we are not.”

“Why did you stop?”

“This is really none of your business, Mama Conte.” He kept his words firm as if speaking to an unruly child. “We were together and then decided it was best we continue our relationship in a strictly business format.”

She spit into the air. “Bah, business. My daughter has been obsessed with her career since she was young. This was originally a good thing. It taught her goals, responsibility. She grew into a determined, independent woman we all admire. But she is losing her soul for the good of a profit.”

Sawyer stood up. Whoa, this was not the time or place to dissect Julietta’s life. Not with her mother. Not with the strange feelings he had for Julietta still bubbling up with nowhere to go. The hell with disrespect, he was getting out of here. “Umm, this is not my business. I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but—”

“Sit down, Sawyer.”

Sawyer sat. Holy crap, was this what mothers did? Used some magic tone like a dom to make their children obey?

She closed her eyes, as if trying to draw strength from above.

When she opened them, a sliver of pure fear trickled down his spine. Mob bosses had nothing on this woman.

“I want you to listen to me. I am old. My heart is weak, my arthritis is strengthening, and I’m in the time of my life where I need to let go of my worries. Many things have been settled and bring me great joy. But there are two things that haunt me at night, keeping me from peace and from sleep, no matter how I try to surrender: my oldest daughter and La Dolce Famiglia.”

Her words came slow, deliberate. Sawyer sat back in his chair and gave her his full attention.

“I built this bakery on sweat, blood, family, and love.

I need to know it will reign for a long time, solid, without causing Julietta to sacrifice everything to keep it going. She will not delegate. She is too proud, too like her papa to believe anyone else can take care of our business. I need to make sure this merger between La Dolce Famiglia and Purity will be the key to her freedom. By signing such a contract, she is bestowing a piece of this legacy into your care. She is entrusting you to succeed, and she will have a long-term partner for support.”

Saywer shook his head in confusion. “Wait a moment.

We already told you the contract is signed. There’s no need for a permanent personal relationship between us. We are both loyal to our word and signed a business agreement.

our respective companies will grow and expand together.

you don’t have to worry about this. I give my word I’ll always look after Julietta and the bakery as my own.”

Her mouth softened into a smile. “you are such a good man, though you still don’t believe it.” She sighed deeply. “I hope that will come with time. I believe you, Sawyer. But contracts are broken all the time, and when the ink dries, and time passes, distance supersedes it all. There is only one way I know of to guarantee Julietta and La Dolce Famiglia will have a partner and supporter I can trust with my life.

Marriage. The sacred vows of marriage pledge a bond never to be broken. This is what I need from you.”

He needed to steer Mama Conte back on course. This was crazy talk. Sawyer decided the best way to blow up the plan was to play devil’s advocate.

“Mama Conte, I think you’re missing some important elements in your idea. First, marriages today are more slippery than business contracts. People get divorced, leave the other, have affairs. Marriage is not what it once was. The sacredness is truly gone.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Marriage is like everything else. It is what the person brings to it—whether it be a vow of celibacy, support, or profit. It is not the covenant that fails, but the people. once you and Julietta make that decision, you will not back away from your responsibilities.

This I know to be true.”

His first full-force panic attack beat at the gates of his mind but he fought back. “okay, fine. Let’s talk about Julietta. We may have slept together, but we don’t love each other. She has no interest in proclaiming forever with me, especially if she’s forced into it. I assume you know your daughter’s stubbornness?”

“I saw her with you. How she looked. How you made her feel.” Memories flashed past his vision, and for a moment, Sawyer glimpsed the woman Mama Conte had been when she was younger. “There are real feelings there, but they are caught up with logic and contracts and a bit of fear. She needs a man who can be a companion, who understands how her work feeds her soul, a man who doesn’t want to change her but accepts every pore of her being.”

“I’m not that man.”

The truth slammed through him. For a brief moment, he wondered what it would feel like to know he was the man who could give her all that. To hold her, keep her safe, finally let someone he trusted into his world. But it was only a mirage, not meant for people like him. especially not with someone like Julietta.

“you are. you are her match, and I knew when I saw you together. Two halves of a coin that have no idea how to merge. once you accept this, you will both be whole.”

Temper bit his nerves. enough of this bizarre vision of mergers and arranged marriages. “I’m sorry, Mama Conte, you are mistaken. I am not the man you believe me to be.

I don’t have enough to give to a permanent partner. And if you truly love your daughter, you would never force her to do something like this. you’d be sentencing her to a lifetime of unhappiness. Let me ask you this. Would you pull this kind of thing on your other children? Force them into marriage like puppets without giving them a choice?

Threaten or blackmail them into doing what you wanted?

or is Julietta different from the others because she chose differently? Answer that honestly.”

His victory was short-lived. He expected a shamefaced duck of her head. A defensive anger at his wisdom. Instead, she tilted her head back and cackled with pure glee. He stared at her in astonishment.

“your point is well taken. But I can honestly tell you I am not treating Julietta any differently from my other children.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Trust me on this.”

He shook his head. “This is a moot point anyway. She’d never agree to this plan.”

“She will. If you ask her.”

He barked out a laugh. “Sure. And get my head ripped off in the process? No, thanks.” He softened his tone. “I don’t want you to worry about things. I promise La Dolce Famiglia will never falter, and I will always remain in your daughter’s life. Va bene?”

He got up to leave, satisfied he’d done all he could.

Sawyer turned toward the door.

“Do you remember your promise to me?”

The room shifted. He swayed for balance as his words trapped him in a vicious vise that echoed the squeeze of a boa constrictor around his neck. He bowed his head as his fate stepped forward and sucker punched him in the jaw.

He gritted his teeth together. “yes. I remember.”

“La devo un grande debito. Se lei mai ha bisogno di me, farò che lei chiede.”

“I owe you a great debt. If you ever need me, I will do whatever you ask.”

“I need you. This is what I ask. I want you to marry my daughter.”

He didn’t remember much after that. The loud roaring in his ears, the pounding of his heart, the sweat dampening his palms. He refused to meet her gaze, knowing he couldn’t trust himself with his emotions right now. Could he refuse?

She had no idea what she truly asked of him. His acceptance of her request would set in motion a chain of events that scared the hell out of him.

Sawyer teetered on the edge, then realized there had never been a choice.

His marker had officially been called in.

He dragged in a shaky breath and accepted his fate.

He might have to satisfy the debt, but he didn’t have to be happy or gracious about it. Trying not to stumble, he made his way toward the door and clasped the handle in a death grip.

“So be it. But you better talk to her first. And God help you if she agrees.”

Sawyer lurched out the door without a backward glance.

…

Julietta sat in the Piazza del Duomo. A heavy fog shrouded the cathedral’s soaring, elegant lines, and a cold mist bit through vulnerable skin in an effort to nip bone. The wind whipped in late-March fury and pedestrians huddled past clad in long wool coats and hats. She stared at the gorgeous structure that had been a mainstay since childhood: the mingle of style and grace of each individual bronze carving on the massive gate; the sharp points of marble thrusting toward the sky. The gilded copper statue of La Madonnina dominating the sky.

She had loved sitting inside the cathedral, gazing at the rays of colored light as they filtered through the Gothic windows. The sense of peace and tranquility amidst great works of art and the mythical search for spiritual perfec-tion. Afterward, Papa would take her to the square at lunchtime, where they would feast on fresh paninis and drink cappuccino, washing the meal down with pancetta and ripened grapes from the market. She’d watch the women— fashionably dressed in designer suits and heels—come and go, and wish to transform into one of them someday.

Well, she had. At least on the outside. Her wool coat and matching fur hat bespoke a confident, stylish executive on her lunch break. Her green Prada handbag and Manolo shoes screamed refined elegance. Though she’d never left Italy to travel like Carina or her brother, she always felt safe at home. Never empty from not seeing other places.

Never strangled.

Until now.

She was going to marry Sawyer Wells.

Humiliation burned in her blood. Her own mother wished to marry her off so she wouldn’t become a cold, lonely spinster counting her gold coins. Their discussion had turned from amusing, to concerning, to enraging. She had shouted horrible things while her mama remained calm. Like an implacable statue, she’d repeated the same thing over and over.

You deserve happiness, my sweet girl. And if you won’t do it your way, I’ll do it mine. Sawyer Wells will give you what you need, though you don’t believe it now.

No. She didn’t believe it. Would never believe it.

Somehow, Sawyer owed her mother a great debt, and he’d marry her to satisfy it. Her mother craved a clear conscience where her children were traditionally married and settled.

obviously, she didn’t trust Julietta to run the business successfully alone, so she’d decided to add an extra layer of protection in the symbol of a big, strong man. oh, how she hated both of them with a passion right now. Her mother for her betrayal.

And Sawyer for his agreement.

A shadow fell upon her. Sawyer sat beside her on the bench, keeping a polite distance between them. Her gaze roved over the shine of his rolex watch, the radiance of his white-blond hair, the cool charcoal tones of his cashmere coat. The red scarf tucked neatly around his neck gave a hint of his boldness and ability to not care about other opinions.

They sat together for a long time in silence while the wind roared and their skin numbed. Pedestrians hurried past them, tilting their heads up toward the sky to try and gauge the magnificence of the Duomo with its intricate architecture and soaring grace. A large flock of pigeons descended from the sky and clogged the piazza, their wings bright blue and heads bobbing furiously for leftover crumbs.

Julietta watched in silence as a younger couple squished together for warmth and laughed at the bird invasion. The woman was pretty, with brilliant red hair. She knelt down and put her hands out, and a bunch of the winged crea-tures hurried over and hopped onto her body. Her laugh was bright and tinkled through the fierce wind. The man laughed with her, knelt down beside her, and kissed her.

The picture burned into her lids and reminded her of the things she’d never have.

She finally spoke. “Do you owe her that much?” she whispered. “enough to give up your life for a sham of a marriage?”

“yes.”

Julietta nodded, already anticipating his answer. A yawning emptiness and grief roared up and pumped through her veins, looking for some type of outlet. She squashed it like an ant under the heel of her stiletto. Never again. She wouldn’t let herself go back to that place of feeling, surrender. Not with him.

“I said no, of course. Walked away and swore I’d never return. I called her names. raged at her. She just took it and said she believed this was for the best.” A crazy laugh escaped her lips. “you know the worst part of this charade?

She believes she’s right. She’s not doing it to hurt us, or make us suffer. What do they say about good intentions?”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“That’s the one. Give the man a gold star. oh, and a wife! Cha-ching!” She clamped down on the mania and struggled for composure. No reason to get wacky over a simple marriage merger. Because that was what it would be. She’d give her mother what she wanted, but in her own damn way. “Forgive me, I’m still adjusting. even though this is Italy, I didn’t know arranged marriages occurred anymore.”

“I understand.”

His voice was gentle, and she had a crazy impulse to grab his hand and beg him to make it all okay. Take her in his arms and say they’d work it out and ease the terrible tightness in her chest. But she did what came naturally. Sat quiet and stiff in her own cold bubble and did nothing. “It took me three days to realize she won. That everything I was so proud of becoming meant nothing because I’d still obey her like a child.”

“What changed your mind?”

That part was the worst. Julietta didn’t like to disappoint her mother, but there was no way she’d bend to a loveless marriage. Until she said the words that singed her ears and crippled her resolve.

“Before your papa passed on, he made me promise two things: to make sure you solidified La Dolce Famiglia as our family legacy. And for you to marry. He loved all his children equally, but you were special to him. He worried about you the most. I do not think his spirit will rest until you give this to him, sweet girl.”

A deathbed promise with her as the casualty. She tried to ignore the words, but they haunted her day and night.

The portrait in her office stared back at her, demanding her acquiescence. Until she finally realized she had no other choice. Just like Sawyer.

She spoke with no emotion. “She said Papa would want this. For me. For La Dolce Famiglia. And I’m afraid she’s right.”

Sawyer made a move, almost to comfort, but she stiff-ened and he pulled back. She couldn’t have this awful conversation with any type of warmth or she’d never recover.

“How do you want to proceed?” he asked quietly.

This she could handle. “I’d prefer to say we eloped. Like Carina and Max. As soon as our paperwork arrives, Father richard can marry us with just my mother in attendance.

I’ll tell my family it was a whirlwind affair, and we wanted little fanfare and attention. We can cite the merger and our workload to escape a honeymoon. We’ll send out a brief press release, tell our respective companies in a meeting, and hopefully the fervor and gossip will die down quickly.

Is that acceptable to you?”

Sawyer nodded.

The young couple before her rose to their feet, inter-locked arms, and walked out of the square. She watched them leave and wondered if they would always be that happy. She shook off the thought and got back to business.

“Good. Now, as for residence, I propose we get a big place immediately. I’ll rent out my apartment for now. I’d prefer Milan to be close to the office, if that’s okay, and we’ll split the cost equally. We’ll need plenty of space so we can lead our separate lives without bothering the other. I’ll put my realtor on the hunt immediately. Agreed?”

Another slight nod.

“We’ll need a prenup. Would you like to use my lawyer or yours?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

A family took the place of the couple and crowded in front of the bench. Two small boys ran around, laughing in delight as they chased pigeons, while the parents shook their heads and tried to rein them in. Julietta watched the man grin broadly, point up to the Duomo, and pull his mate in close. She leaned in with a naturalness that spoke of years together.

Julietta continued. “We’ll need to set the terms, of course. Mama never needs to know our intention to end it after a certain allotment of time. If it’s acceptable to you, I’d like to use two years as our frame. I’m afraid one year won’t satisfy my mother’s wishes, but two is a fair enough deal to say we both tried. Unless you disagree?”

He didn’t look at her. Just stared at the young family as if they were the key to unlock the answers he needed. “Two years is fine.”

“Good. I refuse to let this thing throw off our time schedule and delay opening. you have my word I’ll hire help and get this transition done as smoothly as possible.”

He lifted his head as if awakening from a fairy-tale sleep. “What about us?”

She blinked. “Us?”

“yeah, us. What’s the rules for that? Same bedroom?

Separate? Do we share work during the day and distance ourselves at home? Are we companions who share meals and conversation? Have you planned that out yet?”

Her back went ramrod straight. His gaze probed hers, as if he were looking for some type of emotion she refused to show him. What did he want from her? She snapped out her words with deliberate precision. “Why don’t we take care of all the necessary details before we subject ourselves to a heart-to-heart? once we marry, we’ll sit down and go over what each of us is comfortable with. I’m sure we can agree to a mutually beneficial compromise.”

He laughed with no humor. “Spoken like a woman in complete control of the situation. Must be nice.”

Her defenses split, ripped, and bled. “What do you want from me? An apology?” Her voice broke, but she pushed on. “I’m sorry. Sorry a debt owed to my mother will stick you with a charity case for two years. Sorry I wasn’t enough for my family, for me, for anyone. especially you.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m doing the best I can to make this palatable for both of us.”

The shell of the civil, distant man beside her shattered.

He reached out, grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against his chest. “you offer me an apology?” he tore out, golden eyes spitting sparks of fiery rage as he shook her slightly. “Goddamn you to hell. you think I’m upset because I’m stuck with you? How dare you call yourself a charity case to the man who kissed you and stripped you and f*cked you for so many hours we both fell into exhaus-tion? you deserve a man to be whole—a man who can offer you a decent life and not tear you apart piece by piece. I’ll never be able to give you what you need. Don’t you understand I’m frozen inside? There’s nothing left to give you except physical pleasure.”

His sensual lips twisted in a sneer, and his fingers bit through the thick fabric of her coat. “But I’m not as polite or charitable as you, I guess. I don’t intend to be a mar-tyr and give you a safe little space with his-and-her bedrooms and an occasional smile as we pass in the hallway.”

The angel morphed into devil. Lust and rage and something completely untamable gleamed in the depths of his eyes.

“Not me. I’ll rip down your door when I’ve had enough and take both of us to hell. And I won’t have a shred of regret.”

She parted her lips, entranced by the powerful aura beating from him in waves. His body heat battled the wind and made her burn to let him take her as many times and in as many ways as he fantasized.

His gaze focused on her mouth. Her heart thundered.

She waited for him to lower his head and claim what was already his. Instead, Sawyer eased his grip and pulled back.

A bleak desolation carved the lines of his face. “But I don’t want to hurt you. So I’ll allow you your barriers and your own bedroom and anything else you need from me. I have only one rule. you will never talk about yourself as a charity case or someone unworthy. Not in my presence.”

A stray lock of hair broke loose and lay against his forehead. Without hesitation, she reached out and tucked it behind his ear. Then ran her hand down his cheek. The rasp of his beard tickled her fingers. She caught his scent of musk and spice and lemon on the wind. “okay,” she whispered.

Like a sinner seeking penance, Sawyer bent his head and pressed a kiss to her open palm. Julietta sensed something deeper in his actions and craved to follow the path leading to a thicket of thorns, poison ivy, and endless predators poised to tear flesh. When his gaze finally pierced hers, Julietta knew this man would be the one to either complete her or destroy her.

She trembled in pure terror. He traced the sensitive line of her jaw, her chin, and slowly down her neck. His light touch caused shivers of sensation to prick her skin and tighten her nipples. Julietta ached to take the leap and damn the consequences.

He took the choice away from her and stood up. “I’ll begin immediately on the paperwork. Let me know when the realtor comes up with something appropriate. Wolfe will be over this afternoon. Call if you need anything.”

He left.

She watched him walk across the square and disappear behind the building. Then she sat on the bench for a long time, in the cold, and wondered what she was going to do.