1
Gia stood inside the back door and let the air-conditioned interior cool and dry the fine sheen of perspiration coating her skin. Short, slick, blond curls were plastered against the nape of her neck. She was dressed in a Danskin body suit and jogging shorts, but even that was too much clothing. The temperature was pushing into the high eighties already and it was only nine-thirty.
She had been out in the back helping Vicky put up curtains in the playhouse. Even with screens on the windows and the breeze off the East River it was like an oven in that little thing. Vicky hadn’t seemed to notice, but Gia was sure she would have passed out if she had stayed in there another minute.
Nine-thirty. It should have been noon by now. She was slowly going crazy here on Sutton Square. Nice to have a live-in maid to see to your every need, nice to have meals prepared for you, your bed made, and central air conditioning… but it was so boring. She was out of her routine and found it almost impossible to work. She needed her work to keep these hours from dragging so.
She had to get out of here!
The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it, Eunice!” she called as she headed for the door. Here was a break in the routine—a visitor. She was glad until she realized with a stab of apprehension that it could be someone from the police with bad news about Grace. She checked through the peephole before unlocking the deadbolt.
It was the mailman. Gia pulled open the door and was handed a flat box, maybe eight by twelve inches, weighing about a pound.
“Special delivery,” he said, giving her a frank head-to-toe appraisal before returning to his truck. Gia ignored him.
The box—could it be from Grace? She checked and saw it had been mailed from England. The return address was someplace in London called “The Divine Obsession.”
“Nellie! Package for you!”
Nellie was already half way downstairs. “Is it word from Grace?”
“I don’t think so. Not unless she’s gone back to England.”
Nellie’s brow furrowed as she glanced at the return address, then she began tearing at the brown paper wrapper. As it pulled away, she gasped.
“Oh! Black Magic!”
Gia stepped around for a look at what was inside. She saw a black rectangular cardboard box with gold trim and a red rose painted on the lid. It was an assortment of dark chocolates.
“These are my favorites! Who could have—?”
“There’s a card taped to the corner.”
Nellie pulled it free and opened it. “’Don’t worry,’ “she read. “’I haven’t forgotten you.’ It’s signed, ’Your favorite nephew, Richard!’ “
Gia was aghast. “Richard?”
“Yes! What a dear sweet boy to think of me! Oh, he knows Black Magic has always been my favorite. What a thoughtful present!”
“Could I see the card, please?”
Nellie handed it over without looking at it again. She was pulling the rest of the wrapper off and lifting the lid. The strong odor of dark chocolate filled the foyer. As the older woman inhaled deeply, Gia studied the card, her anger rising.
It was written in a cutesy female hand, with round circles above the i’s and little loops all over the place. Definitely not her ex-husband’s scrawl. He’d probably called the shop, gave them the address, told them what to put on the card, then came by later and paid for it. Or better yet, sent his latest girlfriend around with the money. Yes, that would be more Richard’s style.
Gia bottled the anger that had come to a full boil within her. Her ex-husband, controller of one third of the huge Westphalen fortune, had plenty of time to flit all over the world and send his aunt expensive chocolates from London, but not a penny to spare for child support, let alone the moment it would have taken to send his own daughter a birthday card back in April.
You sure can pick ’em, Gia.
She bent and picked up the wrapper. “The Divine Obsession.” At least she knew what city Richard was living in. And probably not too far from this shop—he was never one to go out of his way for anyone, especially his aunts. They had never thought much of him and had never been reticent about letting him know it. Which raised the question: Why the candy? What was behind this thoughtful little gift out of the blue?
“Imagine!” Nellie was saying. “A gift from Richard! How lovely! Who’d have ever thought—”
They were both suddenly aware of a third person in the room with them. Gia glanced up and saw Vicky standing in the hallway in her white jersey with her bony legs sticking out of her yellow shorts and her feet squeezed sockless into her sneakers, watching them with wide blue eyes.
“Is that a present from my daddy?”
“Why, yes, love,” Nellie said.
“Did he send one for me?”
Gia felt her heart break at those words. Poor Vicky…
Nellie glanced at Gia, her face distraught, then turned back to Vicky.
“Not yet, Victoria, but I’m sure one will be coming soon. Meanwhile, he said we should all share these chocolates until—” Nellie’s hand darted to her mouth, realizing what she had just said.
“Oh, no,” Vicky said. “My daddy would never send me chocolates. He knows I can’t have any.”
With her back straight and her chin high, she turned and walked quickly down the hall toward the backyard.
Nellie’s face seemed to crumble as she turned toward Gia. “I forgot she’s allergic. I’ll go get her—”
“Let me,” Gia said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve been over this ground before and it looks like we’ll have to go over it again.”
She left Nellie standing there in the foyer, looking older than her years, unaware of the box of chocolates clutched so tightly in her spotted hands. Gia didn’t know who to feel sorrier for: Vicky or Nellie.