Chương 9
“I know.”
“But you should probably say enough that no one invents something worse.”
He almost smiled.
“That sounds like experience.”
“Three canceled weddings.”
“This year?”
“This month.”
He stared at her.
Marcy shrugged.
“People are ambitious in June.”
Despite himself, Alessandro let out a brief breath of laughter.
It vanished quickly.
“Thank you.”
She nodded and returned to her headset.
He entered the elevator alone.
As the doors closed, his reflection appeared opposite him.
His tie was slightly crooked.
He straightened it automatically, then stopped halfway and let it hang as it was.
When the elevator opened two floors above, the hallway was empty.
He walked toward the suite and heard nothing through the door.
His key card failed on the first attempt because his hand was shaking.
On the second, the lock clicked.
He entered quietly.
Rosalie sat on the floor beside the bed.
Livia sat cross-legged in front of the full-length mirror with a towel around her shoulders.
A pair of small silver scissors lay on the carpet between them.
Alessandro stopped.
Rosalie looked up.
“She asked me to even it.”
Livia met his eyes in the mirror.
“You said I could cut my hair if I wanted.”
He had said that two years earlier after she announced she would never cut it again.
He had assumed she had forgotten.
“I did.”
Livia touched the jagged side.
“I want it short now.”
Alessandro looked at the long untouched section falling over her other shoulder.
His chest tightened.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Because I want to.”
He stood in the doorway for another second.
Then he came into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Okay,” he said.
This time, he did not add anything else.
Rosalie picked up the scissors but did not open them.
“Before I do anything, I need you to look at me.”
Livia turned away from the mirror.
Rosalie touched the towel lightly at the child’s shoulder.
“If I cut the rest short, I can’t put it back tonight.”
“I know.”
“You can change your mind tomorrow and grow it again, but it’ll take time.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not a hairdresser.”
Livia looked at the scissors.
“You cut my bangs once.”
“That was an emergency.”
“You made them crooked.”
“They were character-building.”
Livia’s mouth twitched.
Alessandro stood near the door with one hand still resting on the handle.
Rosalie looked at him.
“Do you want to call the salon downstairs?”
Livia answered before he could.
“No.”
Rosalie nodded.
“All right.”
She shifted onto her knees and gathered the untouched length of Livia’s hair between her fingers.
“What about here?”
Livia shook her head.
“Shorter.”
Rosalie moved her hand upward.
“Here?”
“Shorter.”
Another inch.
“Here?”
Livia stared at herself in the mirror.
“Like the other side.”
Rosalie glanced at Alessandro.
He did not interfere.
Livia noticed.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“You can say something.”
He stepped closer.
“I’m trying not to say the wrong thing.”
“That’s weird.”
“Yes.”
He sat on the edge of the bed.
“It’s new.”
Livia studied him for a moment, then looked back at Rosalie.
“Do it.”
The scissors closed through the first section with a soft metal scrape.
The long hair did not fall dramatically.
It folded over Rosalie’s fingers and slid onto the towel across Livia’s lap.
Livia watched it land.
Her face stayed still.
Rosalie cut another section.
Then another.
Alessandro’s phone began vibrating inside his jacket.
He ignored it.
It stopped.
Ten seconds later, it started again.
Livia looked at him through the mirror.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“No.”
“What if it’s important?”
“You’re important.”
Livia lowered her eyes.
The answer had been immediate, and perhaps because of that, it sounded different from the things adults said when they were trying to comfort children.
Rosalie continued working.
She had no professional technique beyond caution.
She combed each section with her fingers, compared it to the damage Bianca had already done, and trimmed conservatively.
Dark strands accumulated over the white towel.
Livia held very still.
Alessandro watched the floor rather than her reflection.
His phone vibrated again.
Rosalie sighed.
“Answer it before someone sends the hotel fire department.”
He checked the screen.
“My mother.”
“That may be worse.”
Livia looked at him.
“Grandma knows?”
“I imagine everybody knows by now.”
“Is she mad?”
“Almost certainly.”
“At me?”
Alessandro stood so quickly that the bedframe creaked.
“No.”
Livia blinked.
He lowered his voice.
“Not at you.”
The phone buzzed again in his palm.
He answered.
“Ma.”
His mother’s voice was loud enough that Rosalie could hear fragments from across the room.
Where are you.
What happened.
Nobody tells me anything.
Alessandro walked toward the window.
“I’m upstairs with Livia.”
A pause.
“No, she’s okay.”
Livia looked at the mirror.
Rosalie met her eyes and gave a small nod.
Alessandro continued.
“No, I’m not discussing Bianca with you right now.”
Another pause.
“Yes, the wedding is canceled.”
He closed his eyes.
“No, you may not go downstairs and speak to her.”
Rosalie nearly dropped the comb.
Livia whispered, “She was going to.”
Rosalie whispered back, “Obviously.”
Alessandro’s mother apparently objected at length.
He turned away from the room.
“Ma, listen to me.”
The volume through the phone increased.
He held it slightly away from his ear.
“No.”
Another burst.
“I said no.”
He looked over his shoulder at Livia.
“Because there is a child in this room who has had enough adults deciding they know what is best for everybody else.”
The other end went quiet.
Alessandro softened.
“Yes.”
A pause.
“I know.”
Another pause.
“No, I don’t know what happens tomorrow.”
His shoulders sank.
“Neither does she.”
He listened longer this time.
Then he said, “Stay downstairs.”
Rosalie caught his eye and mouthed, Good luck.
He ignored her.
“I’ll call you after I talk to the guests.”
His mother said something else.
His mouth tightened.
“Please do not corner Vittorio.”
Livia grinned.
“What?”
Alessandro turned.
“Nothing.”
“You made the face.”
May you like
“What face?”
“The one when Grandma says something bad.”
