Chapter Sixteen
Camilla POV
I called a cab to pick me up before sunrise. Natalia would still be asleep. I left a note on the kitchen counter, in a spot she would see right away. I had the cab driver take me to LaGuardia Airport, got myself checked in and through security, and then called my Nonna.
"Ciao nipote," she answered.
"Hello Nonna, I'm at the airport. My flight is on time, you will be there to get me, won't you?" I asked, as I sipped my coffee from the nearby Starbucks kiosk.
"Si, certo, a presto."
"Perfect, ti amo Nonna," we hung up after that. My Nonna was my favorite person in the world. She never let me down.
I leaned back, put my earbuds in my ear to listen to music and waited for my flight to board.
Nicholas POV
"I want the jet ready as soon as possible. I need to go see La Donna Patron." I was in my office making arrangements to travel to Iowa. "I'm going to Iowa. Yes, I fucking said Iowa. Now get on it," I slammed the phone down on my desk and stomped out of my office, looking for my housekeeper.
"Yvonne," I yelled.
"Yes sir," she hurried into the hallway from the dining room.
"I need to take a trip for the weekend, pack my bag. It's business but toss some casual clothes in there too. I'm going to Iowa of all places," I said as I waved my hand in the air.
"Right away Capo," she hurried upstairs to pack my bag for me. Yvonne had been with our family for twenty years, basically since I was a boy. She was hard-working and trustworthy, it's one of the reasons why I kept her on, in spite of being the only one living in this huge house. Yvonne and her husband occupied a guest casita I had out back, and only because he was my gardener.
I went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and pulled out my cell phone. "Marco, I'm going to Iowa for a few days. Tell Antonio to put eyes on Camilla Patron. I'm going to take her with me."
Marco laughed, "Iowa? What the hell for?"
"To see La Donna Patron." Marco knew who Camilla's Nonna was, we had talked about this after I spoke with my father.
"Is it that bad, boss?"
"I need to find out some information, and I want to do it in person. This is not a phone call conversation, and I can't have Cain finding her."
"Alright, I will call you back." Marco disconnects the call, and I finish my coffee, deep in thought. Camilla Patron could have possibly been promised to me if her parents hadn't been killed. The irony of that. I shake my head; her father may still get his wish. I'm definitely a bit enamored by her.
Marco calls me back an hour later. "There's a problem. Antonio said she left early this morning, about five and took a cab to La Guardia airport."
"Mi stai prendendo in giro, cazzo." I revert to Italian when I'm extremely angry.
"Nessun Capo," Marco replies. "What do you want to do?"
I am pacing the floor, when I realize there is only one place she would go. "Find out where she booked her airline ticket too, but I guarantee she's headed to Iowa." I smile to myself, this was almost too easy.
"Why do you think that?" Marco asks.
"It's the only place she has to go. She has her Nonna and her roommate. Aside from that, I don't think the girl is close to anyone," I answer as I march up to my room to change. I'm getting out of New York as soon as possible.
Camilla POV
"Nonna, I'm so happy to see you," I practically run into my waiting grandmothers arms. She squeezes me tight and then kisses both cheeks.
"Come, I have pasta sauce on the stove." She pulls me by the hand to her waiting car on the curb.
"Nonna, you left the stove on?" I say, suddenly worried that she has lost her faculties. We are an hour away from her home.
Nonna waves me off as she climbs in the car. I toss my bag in the back seat and then climb into her BMW. Nonna always did drive nice cars.
"Nonna, it's not safe to leave pots on the stove like that," I say, gently laying my hand on her leg.
"Sciocchezze. Il mio ragazzo e li." She responds with a smile and puts the car in gear.
"You're boyfriend?" I'm so confused.
"Si, era il mio giardiniere. Ora e Il mio amore," her smile is beaming.
I shake my head in awe. "You are shacked up with your gardener? Wow, I don't know what to say."
"Say nothing, I'm happy," she switches to English, which she rarely does.
"Okay, as long as you are happy. I couldn't bear it if he was taking advantage of you." I look out the window and then back at my grandmother. "Wait! He doesn't know you're rich, does he?"
Her laughter is musical. She's not very old, she's in her sixties, so I can see why she might want to find love. My Grandfather has been dead for close to forty years, long before I came along.
"So silly, my Camilla. Wait till you meet him, He's from back home. A childhood friend. He has more money than I." Again, with the English.
"Practicing your English, Nonna?" I ask.
"Si, ti da fastidio? Sto cercando di aiutare il mio Enzo a imparare, ma sono arrugginito."
"No, it doesn't bother me. I look forward to meeting Enzo." I smile at her, happy to see my Nonna smiling so brightly.
"Perfecto."
An hour later, we pull into the long driveway to Nonna's. Her house is set back off the road about a half mile, then there is a gate that is closed but opens by remote. She put that bit of security in when I moved in with her. She never really said why, except to say I was a beautiful girl, and she didn't want boys trying to sneak in at nighttime to serenade me. I laugh because the closest house to hers is three miles down the road.
"It looks the same, Nonna," I say as we pull up in front of the house. I climb out and grab my bag.
"Aspetta di vedere il giardino."
Nonna rushes up the steps, and before she gets to the door, it's thrown open. Standing before us is a very handsome older Italian man. He still has a full head of hair, peppered with salt. His brown eyes twinkle as he pulls my Nonna into his arms for a hug, then gives her kisses on the cheeks. He's dressed in black slacks with expensive Italian leather shoes; his white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, top button undone. I have a flashback. This is how my father used to dress when he was home relaxing.
"You must be Camilla," he says in English with a heavy Italian accent.
"I am," I say as I approach the top step. He immediately does what many Italian men do: pulls me towards him, his lips making quick kisses on my cheeks.
"It is a pleasure to meet Carmen's nipote di nonni," he smiles
"Grazie, pleasure to meet you, Enzo."
Nonna rushes us inside, chattering on about how she needs to finish making supper. She tells Enzo to show me the garden and then heads to the kitchen.
The garden in the back is stunning, with beautiful roses everywhere. The lawn is the greenest I have ever seen. There is now a little fountain that was never there before, sitting in front of a bench swing.
"This is nice Enzo. You did this?" I ask.
"Si, anything to make Carmen happy."
I turn to Enzo, "Tell me how you know my Nonna." He actually looks a bit nervous, his eyes glancing up to the kitchen window that overlooks the back yard.
He leans towards me and, in a hushed voice, says, “Her papa and mine were close friends. We grew up together. It's a long story. How you say," He pauses. "Your Nonno, it was matrimonio cominato."
I step back shocked, "Arranged marriage. Are you sure?"
"Si. Ero innamorato di lei." He smiles sheepishly.
"You were in love with my Nonna? What happened?" I am so curious.
"Si. Still am. She is beautiful still." He breaks into his accented English.
"I don't understand Enzo."
He sighs. "It was a long time ago. We are together now." He nods his head like it's final. "Come, dinner." He motions towards the house and walks back inside, leaving me standing there.
My Nonna had an arranged marriage. She always says she loved my Nonno. Something doesn't seem right. I will have to get to the bottom of this, but first I need to find out about Michael. I walk back into the house, a woman on a mission.