For the first time since he’d known her, Iyana seemed hesitant. “Forgive me for being nosy,” she said, “but the day before you left and you were on the phone, did I hear you say something about a baby?”
That took him by surprise. He wasn’t in the habit of discussing his personal life with his employees but, with her direct question, Iyana was challenging that policy. Eyes narrowed, he studied the woman’s face. How much exactly had she heard?
“Uh huh,” he conceded with a brusque nod. “You heard right.” Then he proceeded on his path to his desk. That was as much as he was going to give. As great an assistant as Iyana was, Arie and the baby would not be up for discussion.
“Oh,” she said softly, “I thought so.” Still, she hesitated in his doorway. “I’m just glad it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me.” Then, still looking thoughtful, she turned and walked away.
Rome frowned. Now what the heck was that all about? But then he shrugged and sank into his chair, and Iyana and her question were forgotten in the mountain of paperwork piled on his desk.
That evening Rome didn’t leave office until after eight o’clock and by the time he got home, showered and ate he had just enough energy left to climb into bed and crash for the night. With all the meetings he had scheduled, tomorrow would be a long day.
He was in deep sleep, probably drawing his second or third gear, when the ringing of the phone had him jerking awake. He gave an involuntary groan and reached over to grab it before it gave him a headache.
“Hello.” His voice was thick with sleep and he blinked, trying to drag himself back to wakefulness. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Three-fifteen in the morning. This had better be damn important.
“Rome, it’s your mother. I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“Wh…what’s wrong?” A sudden fear gripped his heart and his mouth went dry.
“It’s your father. He’s had a stroke.”
“Oh, shit.” The word escaped before he could stop it. “How is he? Where is he?”
“He’s still at the hospital. He’s conscious and the doctor said as long as we keep him stable he should soon be on the road to recovery.” Lily Milano gave a shaky sigh. “But he’s been asking for you, Rome. Can you come?”
“What kind of question is that? There’s nothing that would keep me from Papa’s side.” As he spoke, Rome was sliding out of bed and padding across the room to his walk-in closet. He would be home only as long as it would take him to throw some clothes into a bag and then he’d be on his way to Italy. His father needed him and he planned to get there as fast as his private jet could take him.
The flight to Italy was like torture for Rome. The plane could not get there fast enough. As soon as they landed he hopped into the waiting car and sped off to the hospital. There, he found his mother, his nonno and nonna, all three of his brothers and one of his sisters. They filled the reception lounge of the hospital’s private wing.
He didn’t even bother with greetings. He just walked up to his mother and hugged her. “How is he, Mama?” His heart pounding, Rome held his mother tight, afraid of what she would say next.
Lily pulled out of his arms and peered up at him. “It’s okay, Rome. You can breathe now. He’s been through the worst and is recovering now.”
It was only then that Rome exhaled. Then he looked around the room. “So what are all of you doing out here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be with him?”
Lorenzo shook his head. “Sophia’s with him right now. One at a time, they said. We have to take turns going in to see him.”
Rome regarded his brother and he could see the tiredness in the younger man’s eyes. In fact, they all looked beat. It was obvious they’d suffered during the last several hours, maybe as much as he had. They’d all been doing some serious fretting for the patriarch of the family.
“May I go in next?” As Rome asked the question he glanced at his mother but then he looked over at Lorenzo then at Dante then Marco. When he walked over to Nonno and Nonna they both smiled and pulled him into their arms. He turned to look at Lucia and she gave him a nod.
“Go ahead, Rome,” she said, her voice low and grave. “You’re the one he wants to see right now.”
It was another fifteen minutes before he was able to do as his sister instructed. As soon as Sophia returned to the lounge he gave her a hug and then he was striding down the hallway to his father’s private room. There, he found Vittorio propped up on his pillows, his eyes glued to the iPad on his lap.
He came to a halt just inside the doorway where he stood staring at the man who was supposedly at death’s door. From the look of things his father was still quite some distance away from said door. Rome had expected to find him on his back, looking frail and helpless. No such thing. Apparently, Vittorio had been knocked down but he was far from out.
Good to know.
“Papa, are you all right?” Rome said as he walked into the room. “And why are you using electronics when you should be resting?” He was frowning as he approached his father’s bedside.
“Rome, my boy. You made it to see your old man.” Vittorio’s face broke into a broad grin. “Why that long face? You didn’t think I’d chip out without seeing you first, did you?” Although he was smiling and speaking cheerfully Rome could hear the strain in his voice.
That made his frown deepen. “Papa, you just had a stroke. That’s not a joking matter.”
“And you always take things too seriously, Rome. Come on. You have to laugh at yourself sometimes.” Vittorio was still smiling but at least he had the grace to put away the iPad.
“No,” Rome said, still as serious as ever. “There’s no reason to laugh, not when you almost lost your life.”
That seemed to have the desired effect on Vittorio because his smile wavered and then it faded altogether. “All right, all right,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “You had to come in here and be the wet blanket, didn’t you?”
Rome reached for the nearby chair, pulled it close to the bed and sat down. “Sorry, Pa. When I got the news it just…” he shook his head, “…scared the hell out of me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you can look back and laugh at this but when the news hit me all I could think was…I don’t want to lose you.” He reached out to take his father’s hand. “You’re a tough old bull but you’re my father. I can’t help but worry about you.”