Chapter 38: MEETING MARCO

MIA

Someone knocked early in the morning which was odd because no one ever comes to his house but to my surprise, he got up and went to answer the door.

"Marco," he said, and his voice was more formal than usual. "Come in."

The man who walked in was tall, seemed like the quiet type had had this dangerous aura that came off him. He was maybe mid thirties, dark-eyed and wearing a jacket that was too expensive for a casual visit as he scanned the apartment slowly before his eyes landed on me and stayed there.

"This is my partner, Marco," Dante said. "Marco, this is Mia."

"I know who she is," Marco said, and my stomach dropped at his cold tone.

Either he wasn't happy to see me here or that's just how he talked. But either way, it rubbed me wrong.

"She's heard about you too," Dante said and I hadn't besides hearing the name once or twice but I smiled like I had because something about the relationship between them told me I needed to lie.

Marco didn't smile back as his cold eyes continued to assess me and then Dante’s phone rang.

"Give me two minutes." He stepped into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

The apartment felt different with Dante out of the room. Marco moved to the kitchen and poured himself water from the tap and although I had never seen him in this apartment, he was very familiar with it. Then he leaned against the wall, looking around.

I noticed that the way he positioned himself gave him a clear view of the bedroom Incase Dante comes out and also a view of the front door.

"He's different with you," Marco said without looking at me.

I was startled that he spoke to me. "Different how?"

"Softer." And he sounded like he didn't like that. "I've worked with him for eleven years and I've never seen him soft before you."

"Is that bad?"

He looked at me then. "Do you know what he does? For work?"

"Investment consulting."

Something flashed in his eyes and I could have sworn I saw a mocking smile but it was gone in a flash."Right. Investment consulting." He set the glass down. "You make him happy. I've never seen him happy either."

Where was he heading with this? "You said that like it's a problem."

"It is." He said. "Men like us aren't allowed to want some things. We always have to be careful in what we do to make the right decisions." He looked toward the bedroom door and then back at me. "When we want something, we become reckless and make decisions we wouldn't otherwise make and then do things wouldn't otherwise do."

"Things like what?"

He didn't answer immediately and in the silence I became aware of how quiet it was, how far the bedroom door was and how I didn't actually know this man at all.

"You've been wondering about certain things," he said. "I can see it. The way you look at him sometimes when he doesn't notice, you’re trying to figure out things about him.”

My throat tightened. "I don't know what you mean."

"You do." He said, flatly. "Smart people usually figure things out eventually. The question is what they do with what they know." He picked up the glass again. "My advice, for what it's worth? Whatever you think you've figured out, let it go. Don't look for more. Don't go looking for answers to questions you haven't asked yet."

"Is that a warning?"

"It's a suggestion."

"From someone who cares what happens to me?"

He looked at me for a long moment and I saw something almost like genuine regret in his eyes before he put it away again. "I care what happens to him. And right now those two things are connected. The day they stop being connected—" He stopped.

"What happens that day?"

The bedroom door opened and Dante came back into the room and Marco's entire posture changed into professional, relaxed mood rather than whatever he'd been thirty seconds ago, almost making me believe I had imagined the whole thing.

"Sorry about that." Dante said, coming over to my side and resting a hand on my shoulder then I watched him look between Marco and I then shot Marco a look i didn't understand."Ready?"

"Whenever you are." Marco said it to Dante but he looked at me one more time before he looked away and the look said everything he hadn't finished saying.

Whatever you think you've figured out, let it go.

They moved to Dante's office with the door closed behind them but I could still faintly hear them through the door but the problem was that their entire conversation was in italian so I couldn’t understand a thing. With a huff, I sat on the couch, trying to work but just couldn’t get that eerie converstaion out of my head.

Investment consulting.

I'd never pushed on that because it wasn't necessarily a job field I knew much about nor was I interest in. But now, I guess I should have asked more questions.

The meeting went forty minutes and when Marco left he didn't look at me again, just followed Dante to the door, said something in Italian that made Dante's jaw tighten and then he was gone and the apartment was just us again.

"He's nice," I said, breaking the silnce.

Dante looked at me. "What did you talk about while I was on the phone?"

"He said you seem happy and that he's never seen you like this."

"Mm." He went to the kitchen and started cleaning up the glasses Marco used. "Marco doesn't say things without reason. What else?"

"What kind of investment consulting needs in-person meetings in Italian?" I asked instead.

His hand stopped briefly then he went back to cleaning the glass. "Some clients prefer privacy. They're not comfortable with remote communication for sensitive matters."

"Sensitive like what?"

"Sensitive like none of your business, Mia." His words were harsh but he said them gently.

I paused. "What did Marco mean by 'men like us'?"

Dante set the glass down, turning to look at me with a soft look.

"He was making a joke. Marco has a dark sense of humor."

"It didn't sound like a joke."

"You don't know him well enough to know what his jokes sound like." He came around the counter, cupped my face in his hands and kissed my forehead. When he pulled back his eyes were warm and I almost let myself get lost in it. "He was testing you a little. He does that with people who matter to me. It's his way of deciding if they're worth trusting."

"Did I pass?"

"He left without incident." Dante smiled. "For Marco, that's high praise."

I laughed and he looked satisfied with that reaction then went back to cleaning while I turned to my laptop with Marco’s words echoing in my head.

“Whatever you think you've figured out, let it go.”

“The day they stop being connected.”

“Men like us.”

I opened a new document and stared at the blank page and typed one sentence that I deleted before Dante could ever see it.

“What is he?”