GIANNI


    There is nothing quite like the morning after a fight. Especially when the sight of the person you fought with brings everything back into perspective in bright<b>, </b>brilliant color. I only wanted to <b>savor </b>thosest few minutes with her, but Roger’s exquisite sense of timing fucked the whole thing up. It’s enough to make me grind my mrs as I march down the stairs. No doubt he wants a continuation ofst night’s bullshit. Little does he know how disinterested I am in what he thinks about my parenting skills.


    Instead of waiting for me in the office or his own, he stands outside my office door. His bodynguage screams tension: head down<b>, </b>cracking his knuckles, practically vibrating with nervous energy. He may even be talking to himself under his breath.


    He looks up upon hearing meing and clears his throat. “I thought you might want to clean up what you left in herest night.”


    <b>“</b>What the hell are you talking about?” I shove the door open and walk into the room to confirm I hadn’t dreamt of cleaning up the ss and whiskey mess I made, even as drunk as I was. What the hell is he… it’s then I notice what’s caught his eye. Caterina’s panties are still on the floor where she left them.


    I’m quick to snatch them up and tuck them into


    pocket. “Okay, Grandma. You cane in now.”


    “Excuse me for trying to be a respectful gentleman.”


    All that earns him is a grunt. “You’re back to being respectful? That’s good to know.”


    Instead of taking the bait the way I almost hope he will, his frown deepens. “<b>I</b>,


    um…<b>” </b>


    Contrary to what I told Caterina, I feel like fried shit after trying to drown my liver in whiskey. I don’t have the energy for a rehash right now. “Out with it. You said things you shouldn’t have saidst night. I wasn’t at my best, either. However, I think from now on-‘ “>


    “This isn’t about that,” he insists, cutting me off before I’ve had the chance to finish. Considering he knows how much I wouldn’t say I like being interrupted, this must be big. Either that, or he’s insanely stupid.


    “What the fuck is it, then? You’ve caught me on a day v


    “It’s about the call that came in from Christopher’s


    my patience is even thinner than usual.” <ol><li><i>er</i>. He’s starting to worry about his kid.” </li></ol>


    Fuck. No wonder he looks like he would rather eat razor des than have this conversation. I sink into my chair with a sigh, rubbing my temples against a worsening headache.


    “Christopher. I almost forgot about him.”


    “Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of doing that.”


    “And whose fault would that be?”


    His jaw tightens as he lifts his chin. “We’ve been down this road already. I did what I felt needed to be done–and you’ve kept him in the warehouse all this time. We could have dismissed this as a mistake, a mere mix–up.”


    He’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. I’ve had fun making that bastard wish he’d never been born. I won’t p end otherwise. “Let’s be honest with ourselves. It was over as soon as you picked him up at the hangar. There’s no taking that back.”


    He epts this without flinching. “He’ll expect a callback. In this guy’s eyes, his kid is still Tatiana’s boyfriend.”


    Shit. “I can’t have him reaching out to her and dragging her into this mess.”


    “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”


    “Which means I need to put out this fire before it gets out of control.” And to think the morning started out so well. One of the nicest <b>I </b>can remember. Don’t I know by now how fleeting such moments are?


    85


    “Here<b>. </b><b>I </b>wrote down his number.” He fishes a slip <b>of </b>paper out of his jacket pocket and slides it across the desk. “<b>Call </b>him before he <b>calls </b>Tatiana.”


    I bristle at the almost condescending tone—I don’t need him to remind me what’s at stake–before picking up the receiver of my desk phone and dialing the number. Jefferson Knight picks up on the first ring, and the tension in his voice jumps out immediately. “Gianni. Thank you for returning my call.”


    I exchange a look with Roger. “Of course. I understand you’re concerned about Christopher. What’s the matter?<b>” </b>


    “Has he been in contact with Tatiana? I attempted to reach her earlier but didn’t get an answer.”


    I never imagined feeling grateful for her penchant for sleeping in she doesn’t need this man in her ear spewing dog shit. “I wouldn’t know. Her rtionship isn’t my business<b>.</b>” Roger barely stifles a snort, earning a sharp shut the hell up look from me. “Is something wrong? Is he in trouble?”


    “I haven’t seen him since the day before they left to go on the trip.


    Hmmm. Strange. “Tatiana did mention that he said he was going to stay behind for a couple more weeks..” After sponging off her for weeks and brutalizing her for… I shudder to think how long I must remind myself that this is not Christopher I’m speaking to. Sure, the son of a bitch raised a rapist who’s suffering at this very minute<b>, </b>even though we can’t always control what our children do.


    “He should’ve been home more than a week ago. I have no way to contact him, and I don’t have the first idea who he was with after Tatiana went home.”


    “He’s young. Maybe he’s still out exploring.” It makes me a proper asshole, feeding lies to a fellow parent<b>, </b>yet something like this was bound to happen. He was never satisfied with his position in life, always wanting more. Willing totch onto anybody who could help him live the lifestyle he wanted. A professional user. If not me, somebody else was bound to get tired of his bullshit and put an end to his miserable life.


    “For this long, without saying a word or reaching out to me?” The desperation rings in his voice. Soon he’ll be panicking. When can I talk to Tatiana? I’m sure she knows something. If not, what perhaps his ns were, or maybe who he went off with?”


    <b>66 </b>


    “Jeff, I didn’t want to bring this into it, but Tatiana gave me the idea when she returned home that things had ended badly between them while they were on the trip. Hence hering home alone.” From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Roger turning toward the window. “I don’t know if she’d want to discuss Christopher’s whereabouts even if she had the first clue about them–considering she’s been home for weeks. I doubt she’d be able to offer much insight on who he’s spent his time withtely.”


    “Are you saying they broke up?”