Chapter 11 A Harmless Pretense

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• Her mother's tone was not distressed. Nor dominatingly loud. Her mom even sounded more soft-spoken than Jill. But once Mathilda Nielsen switched to her native tongue, Kel knew her mom was now serious as a heart attack.
• "Mykaela, uli na, anak. Galisud na Daddy mo."
• "I-I'll try, Mom. We have a lot scheduled this month."
• "K, mas importante pa imong trabaho?" her mother questioned. Her strained voice over the phone sounded more emotional by the second. "Gahulat baya Daddy nimo."
• "Mom..."
• "That job supports you financially; I understand. And I never stopped you. But we both know that's not something you imagine yourself doing for a long time."
• "Mommy..." Kel reclined on the couch and closed her eyes, gripping her phone while the guilt just crushed her will to argue.
• "Mykaela, please." Mathilda sighed out loud. She sounded rather upset now, her voice almost trembling with distress. "Come home. Your dad's waiting."
• The request sounded more imperative than begging, but she knew better than to respond with anything less than a compliant tone. "Okay."
• It took her another few minutes to calm her mother down, and when she finally heard a pleasant goodbye from her mom, Kel ended the call and let her half-meant promises echo in her head.
• Miles didn't even know about her father's current situation yet. She hadn't even found the time to book herself a plane ticket. And now she just promised her anxious mother she'd be flying back home in no time.
• It was why she'd hesitated about calling home, knowing her mother would only force her to book a flight back to New York. Procrastinating for days while stupidly hoping the issue would just blow over definitely didn't do her any good.
• Kel grunted and dropped her phone on her lap, eyes still closed, her chest feeling like it was going to implode. Her face and eyes felt warm and teary now. Now she had to call up her agents just to tell them she was taking time off work, something they would definitely argue during this busy time in the fashion world.
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• "Bellissima! Stefano, guardate la sua faccia..." Mrs. Falco gestured to her husband and kept studying Kel's face, the woman's matte pink lips widely smiling in appreciation. "Beautiful Mykaela, we finally meet in person."
• "Grazie, Signora." Kel put on a smile as vibrant and as long as she could manage, with Miles' gorgeous mother standing before her and gushing praises.
• Unbelievable that the woman was past her 40s. Mrs. Falco also had an East Coast accent, probably since she and Miles lived in America for a while.
• "Buongiorno, Signore." Mykaela regarded Mr. Falco and bowed slightly.
• "Ciao, bella. Come sta?" Miles' father, inches taller than his wife, smiled briefly before he sat down on a chair. Their bodyguards were nowhere in sight, probably guarding the front and back doors.
• "Sto bene. Come sta, Signore?"
• "Stanco, ma a parte ciò sto bene." Mr. Falco let out a short sigh.
• "Call me Elle. Signora sounds old," whispered Miles' mother after giving her a tight hug. "Where's that secretive son of mine?" the woman muttered while glancing around. "We're prepping snacks for the trip."
• Trip?
• "Maximiliano?"
• "Pappa?"
• "Um..." Mykaela glanced to the hallway and found Miles leaning against the console, busy texting on his phone.
• Their eyes talked for a bit when he looked up from his phone. Miles furrowed his brows at her.
• Then Mrs. Falco let go of her forearm and called out to her son, muttering something about a long drive. Both her English and Italian sounded fluent. Miles' father, on the other hand, hadn't spoken an English word since they arrived.
• "I know, Mamma," Miles replied, mumbling while his hand rubbed his nape. "Do we really have to leave now?"
• "Already called Ricchar and he's waiting for us." Mrs. Falco ignored her son's complaining tone and walked towards the kitchen. Her simply elegant black dress sashayed along her legs after every step. Her silver flats didn't look out of place in Miles' monochromatic kitchen.
• "We haven't even packed yet."
• "You haven't told Mykaela?" Mrs. Falco stopped raiding the fridge and propped a hand on her hip after her son's complaint.
• The question confused Kel but she tried to keep up a pleasant expression.
• "Mamma, Pappa, scusi." Miles took swift steps towards her and pulled her by the arm.
• The entire kitchen and dining area fell silent as they made their way to the guest room on the farthest right of the house, where Paul had stayed the previous night.
• Mykaela frowned at her roommate. Well, about time for a proper explanation. "Trip? What trip?" She kept her voice hushed.
• "To Umbria."
• "What?" she whispered. Although she wanted to yell, she was more curious than annoyed.
• Umbria was his birthplace, but she had no clue why they were having this conversation. Her back touched the cold wall, while Miles stood next to her with his palm on his forehead. The room still smelled of cigarettes. Paul's fault.
• "Why?" She just stared at Miles, waiting for more details.
• His curly bangs almost covered his dark, shapely brows, and she still wasn't used to seeing him with his hair cut short. It just made him look...manlier. For seconds, his expression stayed as blank as the white walls. "They wanna visit family there. I can't say no."
• "So go," she said, her voice almost inaudible to her ears.
• "They want you to come with." His brown eyes anticipated her reaction. Miles cleared his throat after a moment of them just staring at each other.
• "Why?" She glanced away and sighed. "I-I can't. I need to fly out."
• "What?" He took a step forward. His lean but muscular arm almost touched the side of her waist, his strong chin now at level with her forehead.
• "Mom called. Dad's back in the ICU."
• A loud sigh was his initial response. Then Miles pulled her away from the wall and sat her down on the bed. "Since when?"
• "The other day..."
• "Shit."
• "Jill said he needs surgery." Kel crossed her arms and regarded the simple blouse and white pair of pants she had on. "Do I look okay?"
• "What?" Miles glanced down at her clothes. "Of course."
• "Your mom's gorgeous." She faintly smiled at him, recalling his mother's compliments earlier. "You look like your dad in some angles."
• "She wants you to come with us." Miles scratched his tan and creased forehead. "You already booked a flight?"
• "Not yet," she muttered as she watched his puzzlement subside. "Your cousin's house in Umbria, it's five hours away. Right?"
• "More or less. We'll be staying till Sunday."
• "Sunday?" she repeated while trying not to scowl.
• "Why? You really wanna go home?" Miles leaned in and wore a rather pensive look this time. He even held her wrist.
• "I have to, babe."
• "Two days." He clasped her hand. "Then I'll drive you to the airport."
• She stared into his honest, heedful eyes. A tinge of sadness mixed with his hopeful gaze, and his frown showed discomposure. He rarely asked for favors. How could she say no?
• "Please? Two days," Miles promised. With ease, he intertwined their fingers on his thigh, seeming eager.
• "Okay. Fine... But just two."
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• Darkness. Warmth against her cheek. Goosebumps on her arms.
• She fell asleep. Dream. It was just a dream.
• A small bump on the road roused her from her deep sleep. Kel forced her eyes to open, fighting off the drowsiness, bothered by the constant blaring of car horns around them.
• She dreamt of Miles again?
• Her back strained to straighten, until she realized her bleary head was stuck in between someone's warm neck and shoulder. Her glance dropped to her thighs stretched on the car seat. Did she fall asleep sitting on his lap? Darn. The heck...
• "Andrà bene, Pappa." His deep voice rumbled against her ear pressed on the crook of his neck.
• Pretending to be asleep, Kel opted not to make any sudden movements. Her grogginess wore off in seconds. Mr. Falco was the other deep voice speaking, even if she couldn't see where he was sitting in the car.
• Her Italian vocabulary was nowhere near mastery at present, but after some sentences, she inferred that the affluent businessman was talking about formality, as well as respecting one's family and traditions.
• "Sì, Pappa," Miles replied. His immobile state hinted of his stiffness and slight discomfiture, and his muted sigh made him seem disinclined to keep the conversation going.
• A bit ashamed of the fact that she literally slept on him, she tried to move. One of his arms loosely hugged her by the waist. His muscles tensed up as his parents carried on a conversation about keeping secrets and how to manage long-term relationships.
• "I'm not saying you should call it off, Maxim, but...be honest with her family. They're conservative as well. You have to respect that. You want her to stay here with you? Tell her parents. Properly. Give them a call. It's not that difficult."
• "Yes, Mamma. Sorry," was all Miles replied before a stretch of silence lingered in the vehicle.
• Mykaela bit on her lip. It didn't take her long to come to the conclusion that Miles was lying to his parents, and the fact that they did not approved of her and their son's current living situation.
• Absentmindedly hugging her to himself, Miles scoffed and clammed up as they sat in the backseat.
• Her embarrassment made her neck and face warm up. She kept her mouth shut as she carefully moved away from his lap, her current thoughts brought into disarray by the things she'd heard.
• He wasn't touching her anymore. Miles gave her a confused look. He watched as she pulled away to sit closer to the window. So, all the while she was asleep, his parents were talking to him about her and their "relationship"?
• Shouldn't be a big deal. However, to her, it felt like a blatant trust issue. She faced forward now.
• His parents sat behind the driver, while the bodyguards kept still in the front. The van was big enough for ten people, but the Falcos preferred to have only two members of their security detail with them. The others must be right behind in another vehicle.
• Were the tinted windows bulletproof? Probably. Was there some truth to Andrew's warning about Miles and his family? An odd feeling of insecurity now interfered with her thoughts. Kel couldn't do much but keep it all to herself.
• "You okay?" murmured the guy beside her. Miles didn't touch her this time.
• Kel nodded. She couldn't look him in the eyes, not after what he told his parents. To brush the thought aside, she watched the retreating sun and stared out the window.
• Traffic and busy streets no longer halted their drive. Their speed had picked up. This part of the Italian countryside didn't quite compete with Tuscany's quaint churches and cathedrals. Or the rustic villages, lovely sunsets over stretches of fertile farmlands, and the long, sandy beaches of the southern Riviera.
• But this part of the mid-regions also boasted an array of centuries-old structures that tell much about the country's colorful history. The winding grapevines, rich olive groves, and spectacular spires on mountain cliffs also held her attention. Also worthy painting subjects were the picturesque villages, the cobblestone streets, striking taverns, and tourist-filled plazas they'd passed by.
• For a moment, Kel forgot about her troubling thoughts and just appreciated the scenery. They traveled by another historic town. The large tires and impressive suspension system made the drive feel smooth and effortless.
• The Falcos filled the awkward silence with shop talk. Mr. Falco resumed talking to his wife about the family business: from messed up cargo shipments to their hotel chain's new management team. Same conversations for the rest of the drive.
• Trying not to eavesdrop was rather difficult. Kel pretended to ignore them while admiring the stretch of lush greenery beside the road.
• Then Miles touched her hand. He showed her his phone screen, his lips compressed into a frown, curly hair all over his face. The lack of lighting in the vehicle cast shadows on his features, his attentive eyes studying her reaction.
• On his phone screen stayed a few words, written in all caps. "WHAT'S WRONG?" he'd typed on the screen. Miles kept staring at her and waited for her to speak up, as if they were the only people in the car.
• Unable to focus her attention on his face, she grabbed his phone and typed a reply. "LATER."
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• 7:19PM
• Kel stared at her watch. They'd been travelling for hours. Hopefully they'd reach the Falco estate soon.
• "Hungry?" Miles muttered to her ear.
• His breath fanned her cheek, planting goosebumps on her arms, even if she'd worn a sweater above her skirt. Kel tried not to mind their physical closeness, but his efforts to keep her near were nowhere near subtle.
• Ugh. Why did he have to pretend? Why would he even lie to his own parents?
• Not a single, rational idea came to mind. Did he really have to lead them on?
• What for? And why was he being so uncommunicative lately? She even caught him snooping on her phone last night...something she had yet to discuss with him.
• Part of her didn't want to make it a big deal, but, because of this off-the-cuff road trip with his family, her curiosity only worsened.
• Thoughts of her ailing father crept into her mind again. How was he doing? Hopefully Jill stayed at the hospital with their Mommy Tilda. How serious was their dad's condition? Could he even breathe on his own?
• Kel prayed in her head, desperately trying not to hate herself. Work was one thing, but, how could she just go on vacation with Miles and his family, while her own father was back in the hospital, rapidly deteriorating and fighting for his life?
• She shifted to glance at the tightlipped guy beside her. They needed to talk. Now. If only they could have some time alone. Somewhere private. Sooner than she could change her mind, hopefully.
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