Chapter 8: The Empty Seat

Massimo's POV

The house was quiet on Wednesday morning, and I did not like it.

There was no soup on the stove and no calendar open on my desk.

For five years I had walked into a day already organized, and nobody had ever told me it was a favor.

I stood in the study in my shirtsleeves and could not find the cuff links I had worn the morning before.

I rang for Renata before I remembered.

Paola came instead, in a pale blue dress, with her hair down.

"Good morning!" she said. "Did you sleep? I tried to be quiet."

"Where do I keep my Delorme account details?"

"I think Renata had them." She wrinkled her nose and looked sorry. "She kept a lot in her head."

"Then find them."

"I'll find them. I promise."

She stood on her toes and kissed my jaw.

I let her, and I did not feel it.

By ten o'clock I had made five calls to men who kept putting me on hold.

The Delorme people wanted their amended order confirmed in writing, and nobody could find the template.

My driver arrived at the wrong building because the schedule he had was two days old.

At noon one of my underbosses telephoned to say, very carefully, that the families were asking where Miss Sartori had gone.

"She's resting," I said.

"Is that what we say?"

I hung up on him.

At one, I went down to the security office and asked for the tape.

I had seen it already.

I had watched it the night after the file went wrong, with Paola asleep upstairs and a drink going warm in my hand.

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