Chương 3
Bianca made a sharp sound through her nose.
Alessandro did not look back.
“And because I should have listened to things sooner.”
That made Rosalie look at him.
Livia frowned.
“What things?”
“Things I need to figure out.”
“You always say that when you don’t want to tell me.”
Despite everything, Rosalie almost smiled.
Alessandro closed his eyes for half a second.
“That is probably true.”
Livia considered him with the grave concentration children sometimes gave adults who had finally admitted something obvious.
“Is everyone downstairs going home?”
“Eventually.”
“Grandma too?”
“My mother will probably stay just to make everybody uncomfortable.”
Rosalie’s mouth twitched.
From the chair, Bianca whispered, “Unbelievable.”
The faint humor disappeared.
Alessandro stood.
Bianca was no longer looking shocked.
The shock had begun hardening into calculation.
She wiped beneath one eye with the side of her finger, careful not to disturb the makeup that had taken nearly two hours.
“You’re going to cancel a wedding in front of two hundred people because I cut her hair.”
“You keep calling it a haircut.”
“What would you like me to call it?”
Rosalie answered.
“She begged you not to.”
Bianca turned on her.
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“No, you usually speak around me.”
“Rosalie.”
Alessandro’s warning was quiet.
Rosalie looked away.
She was angry enough to say things she had spent years being paid not to say.
The anger frightened her because it felt useful.
Bianca rose from the pink chair.
She steadied herself against the vanity and looked toward the mirror.
For one strange second, her attention appeared to settle not on Alessandro or Livia but on the loose powder dusting the marble beside the clippers.
She reached automatically for a tissue.
Then she stopped.
Her hand remained suspended over the cosmetics.
“What happens now?”
Alessandro glanced toward the doorway.
The corridor beyond it was empty, but he could hear movement farther down the suite.
People were pretending not to listen.
“I speak to the coordinator.”
“And say what?”
“That the ceremony is canceled.”
“My father paid for half of this.”
“We’ll deal with the money.”
“You’ll deal with it.”
“Yes.”
“You always do that.”
He looked at her.
Bianca’s laugh was thin and without amusement.
“You make a decision, and then you deal with it with money.”
“That isn’t what’s happening.”
“Isn’t it?”
She pointed toward the vanity.
“You throw something, you apologize to Livia, and suddenly you’re the stable parent.”
Alessandro’s face tightened.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to.”
Livia leaned closer to Rosalie.
Rosalie felt the movement and placed a hand over the child’s shoulder.
Bianca saw it.
Her eyes flashed.
“There.”
She pointed toward them.
“That.”
Rosalie stiffened.
“That is what?”
“You standing there like I’m dangerous.”
“You had clippers against her head.”
“I was cutting her hair.”
“She said no.”
“She is seven years old.”
“And still a person.”
Bianca gave a humorless smile.
“Very noble.”
Rosalie’s face went hot again.
“Stop.”
Alessandro’s voice carried enough force that everyone did.
He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip.
“We are not doing this in front of her.”
“You already did it in front of her.”
Bianca folded her arms.
“You ended the wedding in front of her.”
“I answered her question.”
“You could have taken me outside.”
“You could have put the clippers down.”
Silence settled over the room.
Livia tugged at Rosalie’s apron.
“I want to go upstairs.”
Rosalie bent toward her.
“We are upstairs, sweetheart.”
“No.”
Livia shook her head.
“Our upstairs.”
She meant the hotel room Alessandro had reserved for himself and Livia two floors above the bridal suite.
Rosalie looked at him.
He nodded immediately.
“I’ll take her.”
Bianca stepped forward.
“Alessandro, we need to talk.”
“We will.”
“Now.”
“Not now.”
“You don’t get to walk away after doing this.”
He stared at her.
“I’m taking my daughter out of the room.”
“You’re punishing me.”
“No.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.”
Livia’s fingers tightened in Rosalie’s apron.
Alessandro saw it.
Something in him cooled.
Not softened.
Cooled.
“I am going to get her away from a room where every adult is arguing about whether she had the right to say no.”
Bianca opened her mouth.
He held up one hand.
“Not another word about her while she’s standing here.”
For once, Bianca obeyed.
Alessandro turned to Rosalie.
“Can you gather her things?”
“They’re already in her little bag.”
“Of course they are.”
Rosalie gave him a tired look.
“Someone had to remember her inhaler, snacks, charger, cardigan, and the shoes she hates but apparently needed for photographs.”
Livia muttered, “I hate them a lot.”
Alessandro looked down at the white shoes beside the chair.
“Then those shoes have been formally released from service.”
A tiny sound escaped Livia.
It was not quite a laugh, but it was close enough to hurt.
Rosalie picked up the pale pink cardigan and folded it over her arm.
When she reached for Livia’s small backpack, she noticed the fallen lock of hair again.
She stopped.
Livia saw her looking.
“Can I keep it?”
Bianca turned away.
Alessandro’s face shifted.
Rosalie crouched and gathered the lock carefully from the floor.
It was heavier than she expected.
She laid it across a clean hand towel from the vanity and folded the fabric around it.
“Do you want it in your bag?”
Livia nodded.
Rosalie placed it inside the front compartment without comment.
Alessandro watched the zipper close.
He had the strange expression of a man trying not to calculate the years contained in something as ordinary as hair.
From the corridor came a hesitant knock against the open doorframe.
A woman in a black headset stood outside.
The wedding coordinator, Marcy, was normally incapable of appearing uncertain.
Now she held her tablet against her chest like a shield.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“Could I speak with you for a minute?”
Bianca laughed once.
“Perfect.”
Marcy glanced at her and immediately returned her attention to Alessandro.
May you like
“There are some timing questions.”
“The ceremony is canceled.”
