“Yup. I guess so.” She bobbed on her heels and giggled. “Let’s eat.” Bridget grabbed my hand and then her father’s, and pulled us toward the dining room.
While Bridget and I settled in our chairs, Leonardo set his phone down on the table and strolled to the kitchen.
“Go ahead and eat,” Leonardo said, opening the fridge. “I’m going to pour some wine. Would you like some, Miss Summers?”
“Please call me Kate. And yes, thank you.” I placed a tortilla on my plate and scooped some spiced chicken.
He came back with two glasses filled with red wine. He handed me mine and sat across from me.
“Thank you.” I took a sip, savoring the rich, fruity notes and cool sensation down my throat.
He tapped Bridget on top of her head. “So what did you do while I was gone?”
“You already know. I told you everything on the phone.” Bridget lightly slapped her forehead with a roll of her eyes. She picked up her hard-shell taco and nibbled the end.
“Geesh, already starting at age four.” Leonardo shook his head, smiling, and lifted a tortilla onto his plate.
“I’m going to be five soon.” Bridget held up her hand to me. “I’m going to have a party in four weeks and Papa said I could invite anyone I want.”
“I bet it’s going to be a unicorn theme.” I scooped up some guacamole and layered it on top of the spiced chicken.
Bridget’s lips parted in surprise. “How did you know?”
“Because that’s the theme I would have.”
“Papa.” She clutched his shirt and shook him. “Kate loves unicorns as much as I do.”
“She does? That’s wonderful. You have someone to talk about it with.” He chuckled.
His ears must be full of unicorn talk daily.
“Can I invite Kate, too? I’m going to invite Tyler.”
My cheeks heated. I didn’t want Leonardo to be put on the spot.
“Sure, If Miss Sum—”
I cleared my throat. “Kate.”
“Kate.” He nodded my way after he corrected himself. “Has time. I’m sure she’s busy, but no pressure.”
“I’ll see, but I don’t know if I’ll be around.” I rolled up the soft tortilla.
“Oh?” Leonardo set down his wine glass with a light clink.
“I don’t live in Kauai. I’m here for the holidays with family. Unless I find a job I can’t live without, I’ll have to go back to Los Angeles.”
“I see.” Leonardo made another taco for himself—this time with a hard shell.
“Did you bring me something from work?” Bridget asked her dad with a mouthful.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Leonardo reached inside his front pocket and handed something to Bridget.
“It’s beautiful.” Bridget held up a magnet to show me—The Hollywood sign that had I Love LA on it.
“You were in Los Angeles?” I asked.
“Yes. I went to wrap up a business deal. My client bought a hotel in Santa Monica overlooking the ocean.”
I could only imagine how much that cost. I wondered if that mysterious woman was the buyer who’d had her hand on his shoulder. I shook that thought away. None of my business.
“I don’t know much about your company. Do you deal with only large properties?”
Leonardo wiped his mouth with a napkin before he spoke. “We have several sub-brands. We sell houses, apartments, commercial buildings, and land. My role is more executive oversight but I handle the clients that request me specifically.”
Like that woman. Again, none of my business.
“Medici Real Estate Holdings belongs to your parents?”
I wanted to take the question back. It came out of my mouth before I could stop myself. It was an innocent question, but I didn’t want him to think I was fishing for information on his finances.
“Partially.” He crossed his arms on the table and gave me his full attention. “My parents started the business, but they’re retired. It’s in my hands now.” Leonardo poured more wine for me and then refilled his, all the while eyeing me suspiciously. “Are you interested in becoming a real estate agent?”
“Oh, no.” I finished chewing and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “I’m a graphic designer, but if I could paint all day I would.”
“Then why don’t you?” Leonardo folded his hands, his elbows on the table.
“Painting doesn’t provide a steady income.”
“Well, an art piece is subjective. What one thinks is junk, another thinks is treasure. Your sister is a painter too. What an artistic family. Your parents paint as well?”
“My father is an accountant and my mother is a teacher. My mother painted, but more as a hobby. She’s really good, though. She was the reason Abby and I got into art. We loved watching her paint and going to galleries when we were young. We both went to USC to study art.”
“Oh yeah?” He added beef to a tortilla. “Great college.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Any more siblings?”
“Nope. Just me and my sister. How about you?”
“I have a younger brother, who has been absent for a while. But that’s a story for another day.” He took a big bite that closed the subject firmly.
We chewed quietly for a few moments. Bridget pushed some tomatoes around her plate.
“You have a lot of art pieces in your house,” I said. “You have an eye for it.”
“I took lessons for a little while, but I’m not good at it. Besides, I don’t have time for hobbies.”
That piqued my interest, but again I didn’t ask for details. Instead, I thought about my painting hanging in his bedroom.
“I was wondering why you bought the painting in your bedroom?” I handed Bridget a napkin.
He stiffened and his eyes darkened. I shrank in my seat. Had I said something wrong?
Bridget, who had been patient and glancing between Leonardo and me during our conversation, said, “Mona doesn’t let anyone in Papa’s room.”
I flushed with mortification. I had to think of something fast. “Mona gave me a quick tour when I interviewed and I forgot. I’m sorry if—”
“It’s fine.” He offered a tightlipped grin. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m grateful that you’re here.”
My heart regained a steadier beat, and silence took over when Leonardo checked his phone and texted someone.
“I’m finished with dinner. I’m going to put this magnet away.” Bridget got out of her seat and opened a long cabinet.
I must have missed that one somehow. Magnets of all shapes and sizes were attached to a board fastened to the cabinet. “Do you collect magnets from every place you visit?”
He took a quick glance at his cell before meeting my gaze. “It’s not for me. Bridget likes to collect them.”
Bridget surveyed the board, trying to find a place for it. “I’ll put it here,” she said finally and climbed back in her seat. “My teacher said there’s a family picnic at the beach this Saturday. Can we go Papa?”
Leonardo caressed Bridget’s check. “I think I have a meeting that day, but I’ll have to check my schedule to be sure.”