When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(27)

“Ah-huh . . . and did she ask if your lovers are men?”

“Chloe!”

His sister folded her arms over her chest and stared him down.

The longer she stayed silent, the more her words echoed in his ears.

Luca moved his head to one side . . .

The other . . .

“Son of a bitch.” He jumped up and headed downstairs.

He found his mother in the restaurant office.

The early lunch staff was setting up and the doors had yet to open for the day.

The second his mother looked over the desk toward him, he froze.

Chloe pushed him from behind.

“Good morning.”

The greeting was repetitive. They’d already seen each other when he’d taken Franny to school first thing that morning.

His mother sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “This should be good.”

Luca recovered his voice. “Uhm, no. I was wondering if you had a copy of the rental agreement that Brooke signed.”

A slight smile tugged at his mother’s lips. “And why would you need that?”

He glanced at his sister.

Chloe widened her eyes but didn’t say a thing.

“In case of an emergency.”

“Is there an emergency?” Mari asked.

“No. Not right now.”

His mother unfolded and sat tall. “Then you don’t need it.”

Chloe surged forward. “Actually, Mama, Luca’s worried about her.”

“I am?”

“I think she’s probably fine. But you know men, they think we women are incapable of taking care of ourselves.” Chloe was painting him as a womanizer. It was his turn to push his sister’s shoulder until she had to adjust her feet to keep her balance.

“I never said that.”

“Are you saying you’re not worried?” Chloe asked.

“No. Like you said, Brooke is probably fine. But she did say she’s new here and didn’t know anyone. And we might have her phone number, but she doesn’t necessarily have ours. A restaurant phone number in a cell phone wouldn’t likely be called by a hospital.” As Luca said those words out loud, he actually started to worry that maybe there was more to do with Brooke’s disappearance than just her being scared off by the overwhelming force of their family.

Mari pushed away from the desk with a nod. “You make a good point.” She pulled a file from the back of the file cabinet of the desk, opened it, and jotted down a phone number before handing it to him. “Let me know what you find out.”

“Thank you.”

Back upstairs, Chloe stared at him while he studied the phone number. “Well?”

“I’ll call. I just can’t have you staring at me while I do it.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and turned around.

Luca dialed the number, walked into his bedroom, and closed the door.

Brooke answered on the third ring. “Hello?” Her voice sounded frazzled.

“Brooke?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“It’s Luca . . .”

She was silent.

“D’Angelo.”

“Yes. D’Angelo.” She blew out a breath as if she’d been holding it and he thought he heard her say “Thank God” under her breath.

“Are you okay?” Luca asked.

She cleared her throat, and this time when she talked, her voice sounded scratchy, as if she were on the verge of tears. “Yes. I’m fine. I saw the number and thought maybe . . . Never mind. Damn. Yes. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“You don’t know me very well. This is my fine voice.”

“I’d hate to hear your upset voice.”

Luca heard her laugh. He liked that better than her fine voice.

“Why are you calling, Luca?”

It was his turn to clear his throat. “Well, Chloe was worried about you. I told her I’d give you a call and make sure you were okay.”

“Chloe?”

“Yes. And my mother. I assured them that you were a strong, capable woman, but since you’ve been gone for a few days, and right after you moved in, they worried. It’s an Italian thing,” he lied. Well, it was an Italian thing, to worry. Or maybe it was a Catholic thing. Or was that guilt?

“They worried but you called. Interesting.”

She was not buying it.

Luca ran a hand through his hair. “I volunteered. We wanted to make sure you had a contact number. A personal one. You know, in case of an emergency. We realize you don’t have people here and . . . yeah. We worried.”

“You can stop worrying, Luca. I’m okay. If I can keep my eyes open, I’ll be back tonight.”

He suddenly felt as if he was invading her privacy again. “This truly wasn’t a call to dig into your personal life.”

“It didn’t sound as if it was.” Her voice had softened. Her fine sounding much better to his ears.

“Do you have far to drive? Driving tired is a bad idea.”

“Luca?”

“Yes?”

“I’m a big girl.”

He shook his head, closed his eyes. “And I’m an ass. I’m sorry. You now have my personal number. Feel free to use it.”