Читать книгу The Vineyards Of Calanetti - Rebecca Winters - Страница 19

“Oh, now you can’t tell a man that, toss a coin and expect me to walk away. Especially since I know the legend.”

Studying his silly expression and not sure if he was teasing, Lily said, “That wishes in this fountain come true?”

“That the wishes of people who can get their coin in the clam shell come true.” He smiled and pointed. “You made it.”

She laughed and her soul lifted. It was the first time the man in Mic’s body behaved like the Mic she remembered.

“So what are you doing at a fountain on a cold morning?”

“Same thing you are.”

She smiled. “Walls of your house closing in on you?”

“Tired of sitting on my mattress, watching reruns of televisions shows on my tablet. When my aunt and uncle asked me to condo-sit, they neglected to tell me that the place was empty.”

She laughed.

His smile faded. “We really blew it, didn’t we?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. The sadness in his voice told the story.

“Not really.” She caught the gaze of his beautiful blue eyes, took in the short hair that was growing on her, and smiled. “Mic, we were kids. Neither one of us had the ability to make enough money. And you became the man you wanted to be. The success. That’s not blowing it.”

“So what did you do after I left?” He glanced away then looked back at her, his eyes searching hers. “My God, Lily, if you didn’t think the two of us together could support us, how did you do it alone?”

She licked her suddenly dry lips. The longing to be honest warred with her hatred of sympathy. In the end, honesty won. “I lost our apartment.”

He cursed.

“Melony and I lived on the street for a week before Signor Bartolini found us one night.”

He ran his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t terrible. He needed a maid and as a household servant, I got living quarters.”

She could see from his expression that he disapproved. Her chin lifted. “Many good people start out as maids.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “I’m not criticizing your choice. I’m sad that you’d rather starve than depend on me.”

“Oh, yeah. And how well were you faring in France, on the pittance a first-time apprentice makes?”

“I was fine.”

Pride forced her chin up even higher. “We were fine too. And when he died, Signor Bartolini left me enough money for Melony’s education, and my condo. I did as well for myself as I could.”

Unable to stand the sympathy in his eyes, she turned and walked away.

“Lily!”

Her walk became a run. How dare he insinuate that she had somehow failed?