Marco's Pride

Marilena cocked her head. “So, why is she bringing them here now?”

Good question, Marco thought. A very good question indeed.

CHAPTER ONE

DEATH and taxes. The only two certainties in life. Death and taxes…

The words went around and around Payton’s head like the unclaimed luggage on the airport baggage carousel.

With a tired hand, she pushed the tangle of dark red curls from her forehead. She’d boarded the plane with her hair pinned up, but after fifteen hours traveling the curls had burst free from the French twist.

A black suitcase came sliding out the luggage chute and Payton carefully stooped to check the tag without disturbing the toddler slumped against her shoulder.

Wrong name. Not hers.

As Payton straightened she cradled the back of Gia’s head and glanced down into her sleeping daughter’s face. Wet tears still streaked Gia’s swollen cheeks, a testament to the hours Gia had wailed inconsolably for the small fuzzy blankie lost somewhere between boarding in San Francisco and changing planes in New York’s La Guardia airport.

It had not been an easy flight.

It had not been an easy month.

It had not been an easy life.

Payton’s lips twisted as she suppressed the rise of emotion. She couldn’t start thinking now. Thinking would only make everything worse.

She shot Livia a quick glance. “Are you okay, Liv?” she whispered, mustering a smile for Gia’s twin.

The three-year-old sat perched on top of an up-ended car seat, her thumb popped in her mouth, her arm clutching her own fuzzy blankie.

Livia nodded solemnly, her dark blue eyes the same shade as Payton’s. The girls had inherited Payton’s heart-shaped face, small straight nose, and dark blue eyes, but their gorgeous coloring came from their father. Onyx curls, light olive skin, the longest, thickest black fringe of eyelash imaginable.

Just thinking of Marco made Payton’s chest squeeze tight. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. When she’d left Milan two years ago she’d rashly vowed that nothing short of death would bring her back.

And it had.

Blinking, Payton concentrated on the moving carousel to keep the tears from forming. She wasn’t much of a crier anymore but she was exhausted and when she was overly tired tears welled more easily.

The last year had been hard, but nothing like the last month. That had been hell. Four weeks endless fear. Endless worry. Endless soul-searching.

And finally at last the truth came: if she were sick, the girls would need their father.

Gia stirred in her arms, black lashes fluttering open. “I want my blankie,” she croaked, voice raspy from hours of crying.

Payton cupped the back of her daughter’s head. “I know you do.”

Brilliant tears welled in Gia’s eyes. “I want it now!”

Gia’s forlorn cry knotted Payton’s heart. She felt like she’d failed Gia. The girls never went anywhere without their blankets. How could Payton lose track of Gia’s? It’d never happened before. It was unthinkable. “I know, I know, but we can’t get it right now—”

“Noooo!”

The wail filled the baggage claim area. Payton kissed Gia’s flushed cheek and rocked her. “We’ll get it back soon, I promise.”

But Gia wasn’t comforted and Liv, hearing Gia’s distress, began to whimper, too.

Suddenly the baggage carousel shut off.

Payton stared at the now flat belt with a smattering of suitcases still on it. An airline employee began retrieving the remaining luggage, locking them together on a cart.

Her suitcase hadn’t made it. The girls’ bag had arrived. The two car seats had made it. But not Payton’s own bag.

No clean underwear, no nightgown, no comfortable shoes, nothing at all.

A five-month audit from the Internal Revenue Service.

A horrible biopsy.

And now no clean underwear. Unbelievable.

“Moommmmmy!” Gia wailed louder.

Livia’s eyes filled with tears and she began to cry for Gia. “Get Gia’s blankie, Mommy! She needs her blankie.”

“I know.” Payton crouched down, scooped up both girls in her arms and held them on her lap. “And I’ll try. I promise.”

“Now!” Gia sobbed, pummeling her fist against Payton’s shoulder. “Get it now. Now. Now!”

“She needs blankie,” Liv echoed, lower lip trembling.

Gia’s wet gaze met her sister’s “Blankie misses me!”

Now both girls were sobbing uncontrollably. Payton jiggled both in her arms, hushing them, even as she wondered how in God’s name she’d made it this far as a single mom.

It hadn’t been easy.

“I miss blankie, too,” Payton whispered. “Maybe we can find you a new one. I bet there are some beautiful blankets here and you can pick out the one you like best—”

“Noooooo.” Gia sounded stricken and her cries grew louder, rose higher, nearing a feverish pitch.

Suddenly a deep voice boomed, “Gianina Elettra Maria d’Angelo!” The reprimand immediately silenced Gia.

The reprimand chilled Payton, too.

Payton knew that voice. An icy shiver raced down her back. Marco.

O God, she didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to be here. But she had no choice…

Payton battled her own hysteria and slowly dragged her gaze up the imposing length of her ex-husband, a man she hadn’t seen in nearly a year.