Page 25 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
“Huh.” I’ll get him out of there somehow.
We’re taking our first steps outside when Giorgio halts and takes out his phone.
“Cazzo,” he says under his breath as he reads whatever is on the screen. “I have to go take a look at something in my office.” He gestures at a building across from the garage. “Polo should be over there. Are you all right if he finishes the tour?”
“That’s fine. What’s his deal, by the way?” I ask.
Giorgio cocks a brow. “What do you mean?”
“He’s young. I didn’t expect someone his age to work here.”
A shadow passes over Giorgio’s expression.
“Is he Allegra and Tommaso’s son or something?”
“No. He’s not related to them. I hired him a few years ago, and he’s done good work around the castello.”
What a non-answer. Just then, Polo steps out of the small building holding something in his hands. He doesn’t notice us.
“How do you know each other? He talks to you very casually.”
“Sometimes.”
“Don’t think my brother’s employees would ever talk to him that way,” I say, trying to needle him on purpose. “Dem knows how to keep people in line.”
“Given how you turned out, I highly doubt it.”
“HowdidI turn out?”
“Like trouble.”
I whip my head around at the comment, but all I see is Giorgio’s back as he steps inside the castello.
He’s right, I am trouble. Or at least, trouble seems to follow me everywhere. And yet unlike Polo’s joke from earlier, Giorgio’s comment doesn’t land badly. The way he said it was almost…playful. Was he teasing me again?
“Hey, Martina!”
Polo’s voice snaps my head in his direction. He’s walking over to me, his curls tossing in the wind, and when he gets close, he throws me a wooden basket.
“What’s this?” I ask, catching the object.
He puts his hands on his hips. “We need to gather the tomatoes before they turn too ripe.”
I frown at him, caught off guard. “And what does that have to do with me?”
He scans me with mischievous gray eyes and then smirks. “It’s a fun experience.”
“Fun experience? Sounds like free labor.”
“Hey, city folk pay a lot to come to places just like these and pick berries or whatever is in season. You’ve never done it?”
“No. Back home, I get my vegetables at the store, like a normal person.” I try to hand the basket back to him, but he won’t take it.
“Where’s home?”
“Ibiza.”
He whistles. “Wow. Not bad. You live there with your brother?”
