"Jake's better trained than you are. He's a former soldier, and he knows how to handle himself. You're on a busted ankle, too. If you plan on taking him down, you’d better do it fast and quick, or else have help.”
I sighed and nodded. "I know. But there's nobody I can turn to for help. I'm going to have to do this myself, and then talk with my father and Pietro about it later."
Daniel sighed, then held up a finger. "Don't forget the girl. She's trained too, even though she doesn't look it."
I could feel the twist to my lips as I pondered Daniel's words, then shrugged. "I'd prefer not to involve her, and not just because she's a woman. This is family business, Daniel. She's not a Bertoli."
“Maybe, but remember that she's got reason to be involved with this as well. In any case, Adriana and I will see you soon. Take care of yourself, Tomasso."
Chapter 14
Luisa
I woke up the next morning with an ache in my heart, one that I knew was because of not having Tomasso with me. My narrow twin bed was too small, and despite the warmth of the offered blankets and the fact that we were in high summer, I was cold on the inside as I got out of bed and dressed for the day.
As I brushed my teeth, I looked at the reflection of the woman who stared back at me. In so many ways, she was identical to me. Her hair was golden blonde, her skin the light hint of natural tan, and she still had the dark eyes and little button nose.
But I didn't know this woman. She looked happy, something that I didn't think I’d truly felt in years, even though the highlight of her day would be to help Tomasso in the gym, carrying plates to and from weight trees. She was dressed like an American, with a plain t-shirt and casual shorts on instead of a designer set of clothes. Her makeup was practically non-existent. There was little there that would compare to the composed, made up, tightly-controlled and fashionable woman who had stepped off the plane a few weeks before.
But most of all, she looked happy. I spit into the sink, swirling my mouth out and looking back at myself, and wondered. Was I truly happy? Me, the woman who’d sworn to herself that I would never let a man be the one to be in charge of me. Was I truly happy wanting to be a servant to a man, an American man at that?
"You don't want to be his servant, though," I whispered to myself, admitting the truth out loud, even if it was at a volume so low I could barely hear it. "You want to be his partner, his equal. You want him to serve you as much as you serve him. You want the impossible, and you want it from one person in particular."
I nodded and saw a hint of sadness in my eyes. I knew what I wanted was impossible. I wanted what I could never have, especially once my father found out. Guillermo Mendosa wasn’t one to give up on his ideas lightly, that was for sure. He hated Americans, and the only reason he wanted the business connection with the Bertolis was because he wanted the money. I'd come up here with the same intentions. Make the connections, get the money, and get out. Our family was doing well, but it was a small player in a country that had much larger sharks. The Bertolis were to be an advantageous alliance, nothing more.
And now here I was, wanting the impossible. I saw a tear fall from my eye, and I wiped it away, not letting the coldness that was still roiling in my stomach creep out. Instead, I practiced smiling in the mirror until I could convince myself that Tomasso wouldn't notice, and then I left my room, heading for his.
He was awake when I got there, already dressed in basketball shorts and a tank top that highlighted his muscular arms and chest. I'd never really been into the thickset muscular look in a man before, but it worked for Tomasso. It certainly got my pulse beating. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Luisa," he replied, adjusting the straps on his brace. I noticed the smell of my baby powder body spray in the air, and I smiled. It was one of the little things he did that showed me he did care about me, even if we never said it. He’d started to spray his brace ever since I made a comment that it stank. “How'd you sleep?"
"I slept fine," I replied, looking him over. "How was your ankle pain?"
"I woke up twice with twinges, but your techniques helped me go back to sleep quickly," he said, grabbing his crutches and getting to his feet. “Thanks again for that. Listen, after breakfast, would you take a bit of a walk with me?"
"Are you insane?" I asked, surprised. "Sorry. Just, the idea of you crutching for miles is painful to my armpits."
Tomasso chuckled and rubbed at his arms. "Yeah, those are getting a bit chafed. But I'm not talking going downtown or anything. Actually, that does sound nice. How about you and I get out of the house and you drive me over to Golden Gardens Park? It's on the ocean side—the water’s too cold to go swimming, but we can talk. Privately."