“Isn’t Faith in your room?” Angelo pointed up at the window.

“She is.”

His brother shook his head. “I practically gift wrapped your new toy and you won’t even play with her. It’s enough to give a brother a complex.”

“It’s not right,” Leo said.

“And using Caprice is?”

When Angelo became the moral one, you knew the earth had tilted fully off its axis and only flaming apocalypse could follow.

“There are degrees,” Leo said. “Caprice knows this isn’t going anywhere. She’s not a victim. She’s never been a victim for one day in her life. Faith is different. She’s completely at my mercy, and that wasn’t her choice. I can’t stand the thought of hurting her.”

“I’m pretty sure this hurts her. I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” Angelo said. “She’s ripe for picking.” He was determined to play matchmaker and see that his gift was put to good use. His new strategy was temptation. Leo was surprised his brother hadn’t followed him and Faith around with mistletoe.

“You know what I mean. I mean damage her. We aren’t in a relationship. We’re two people stuck together by circumstance. That’s all.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Angelo pulled out another cigarette and leaned against the building. He flicked the silver lighter, and his face glowed as he took a drag to catch the flame. When he was finished being dramatic, he said, “Maybe you’re afraid to be happy. I never noticed it before, but I think you aren’t satisfied in life unless you feel guilty about something. My brother the saint. Tell me, does the weight of the world ever get heavy?”

“Fuck off.”

Angelo’s laughter followed him through the snow to his car.

13

Leo had called five hotels before he’d found one to put Caprice up in. The last thing he’d expected was for The Plaza to have an opening on Christmas day or to have a room available for an entire week block. Sometimes life was funny. He’d set her up in a deluxe courtyard room on the ninth floor. It was the least he could do, isolating her during the holidays as he was. But he didn’t want her around Faith.

He hadn’t bothered calling, and it was coming close to midnight, but Caprice would let him in if she knew what was good for her. He’d caught the floor when he’d made the reservation, but now the room number escaped him. He took a breath and approached the registration desk, trying not to look sinister.

“Could you tell me Caprice Clementi’s room number please?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t give out the room numbers of our guests. I could telephone her for you if you’d like?”

Leo looked like he was there to whack her, so he couldn’t blame the hotel staff for their concern. And he did intend to whack her, just not in the way they probably thought. He set down his bag and pulled his wallet out, placing his driver’s license and credit card on the marble. “Leo Raspallo. I paid for the room.”