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Entering his space again, I paused when he gestured for me to take a seat. “Angel, we need to discuss today.”

I nodded my agreement with a thousand questions in my mind.

“That woman was Alexandra. She was my late wife’s best friend and Angelina’s Godmother.”

My mouth dropped open in shock as fear hit me hard. How bad had I messed up? Did she see through the façade?

“After the accident, I had private services. This upset those closest to us. However, I had my reasons. No one knows the truth about Angelina.” He paused as I watched the emotions of losing his wife and daughter hit him once again. “I acquired you, and with the help of some associates, I let the important people think Angelina had to have plastic surgery after the accident. That explained the need to homeschool to outsiders as well as gave us a cover should someone see us together.”

I fought to keep my tears at bay. Angelina died in the accident with her mother, but she wasn’t completely gone. Her loss was my gain. Her pain had become my opportunity—her life for my freedom.

The tears fell freely down my face once it hit me that she truly gave me her soul, the spirit of who she was.

“We have been fortunate until now that we haven’t been seen. Not that we have gone out a lot or to the places I went with my family, but I really thought we would’ve faced this before now. It was bound to happen.”

“Did I mess up?” I whispered my biggest fear.

Reaching out, he cupped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “No, angel. I watched you and stepped in when the time was right. You have done well.”

“You watched me?”

“I’m never far away. Of course, I watched you.” He answered me so nonchalantly I felt stupid for questioning him.

I guessed it was smart for him to always be nearby, but again, I had to wonder how he worked if he was always watching me.

“We can’t be too safe, angel.”

“I understand.”

I truly did. I understood the dangers of people knowing who I really was. Giano had committed a crime in keeping me. He had committed a crime in giving me a new identity. My young mind didn’t understand fully how bad things really were, but I knew keeping me safe had come at a price, one Giano would pay if the truth were ever to be revealed.

After the events of the day, I was determined to not slip up. I would not be caught off guard again. I would protect my stranger the way he had protected me when he had opened his home to me.

Chapter Nine

One Year Later

I managed to make it to tenth grade without one failure as Angelina Nylene Diamante.

Embarrassment filled me as I entered the house. There was no avoiding it anymore. I could only hide out at Randi’s house for so long.

What would Giano think when he found out? He had picked me up from Randi’s, and other than a quick hello, I had feigned a headache to keep the ride quiet.

Once home, I knew I could only put off the inevitable conversation for so long. It was time to fess up and take whatever punishment came.

“Angel, are you okay? Is it your period?” Giano questioned me cautiously.

Last year, we had successfully navigated the change in life from girlhood to womanhood. It wasn’t smooth, but Giano had explained the changes in my body and what was to come as well as provided me with the necessary supplies.

“No, it’s not my period.” If only it were as easy as blaming biology. “I have to tell you something.”

“You can tell me anything,” he reaffirmed as he slid the chair out at the kitchen table and sat down while extending an arm as invitation for me to do likewise.

“It’s stupid, really.”

“Nothing upsetting you this badly is stupid.”

I took a deep breath. It was better to spill it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“I failed my first assignment.”

Giano laughed a full-belly laugh. His smile was infectious, gorgeous, and all consuming. I couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“Did you think I would be angry?”

I bit my bottom lip and simply nodded my head, my smile falling.

His smile moved to a stern frown as his dark eyes danced in a mischievous way that only made my insides quiver in fear and something else altogether. “Because I am,” he barked out at me.

Tears filled my eyes as all of my apprehension of the day washed over me. I sat, unmoving and silent.

“What did you fail when failure is not an option for us?”

Breathing deeply, I said, “I failed a culinary assignment today in school.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

“Well, this is Intro to Culinary Arts. We went over restaurant planning and managing the house in the first quarter. Now we began cooking basics,” I tried to explain.

“So cooking, like home economics type of cooking?”

“Well, no, restaurant cooking. Since this was a basic assignment, Sister Mack felt we should bake an apple pie from scratch. We had to incorporate knife skills into the pastry skills we learned last week when we made cookies, bread loaves, and turnovers using a canned pie filling. With this assignment, we had to peel and core our own apples as well as cook our filling over the stovetop along with making our pie crust.”

Giano studied me intently. “And you failed this how?”

“First, I forgot the measurements on the flour for the pie crust, so rather than flakey, mine was dry. Then I broke the apple corer before I could finish prepping my apples. I got so mixed up with what I was doing afterward that I forgot to add brown sugar—okay, sugar period—to my mixture of butter and spices with the apples.

“After pouring the messed up semi-caramel apple pieces into the overly dry crust, I managed to only rip four of my lattice work top pieces before putting it in the oven where I caught it on fire due to drippings. Sister Mack felt that my inability to overcome my first catastrophe and then allow myself to lose focus was a solid reason to fail me on the assignment.”

Without allowing me to continue, Giano burst out laughing once again. “My poor, angel, you can’t cook.”

“This isn’t funny. I failed, Giano. Big, fat F—failed.”

“I can’t believe it.” Then he paused and took a serious face once again. “This is my failure. I haven’t spent any time with you in the kitchen, so how can you be expected to cook? We must rectify this immediately.”

Hopping up, Giano moved to the refrigerator and quickly brought out apples. He washed them and moved to the island where he set out bowls and began pulling out the dry ingredients necessary.

“Come on, angel. We have work to do.”

Moving beside him, I washed my hands and waited. First, he grabbed an apron out of the drawer. Facing me, he draped it over my neck before reaching behind me to the strings. Crossing them behind me, he pulled each one at my side, tugging me closer to him. In order to catch myself, I had to reach up and hold steady against his chest. I could feel his heart beating beneath me, and I felt my own beat harder as I inhaled his scent.

Once he knotted the strings in front of me, he pulled the hair tie off my wrist that I always wore and proceeded to turn me around. As he took my hair in his hands, his fingertips brushed the curve of my neck, which sent shivers through me. With my hair secure, he then went to the sink and washed his hands before moving beside me at the island again.

He handed me a paring knife and an apple. When I looked at him like he had lost his mind, he came to stand behind me, his arms encircling me as he took my hands in his. Holding the knife with me in my right hand and the apple together in the left, he began the best baking lesson anyone could ever have.

“When cutting, angel, one must use the knife as the tool it is intended for. You must respect the power in this weapon. The victim today is Granny Smith, and together, we will strip her bare. Carefully, you place the blade of your knife at a forty-five degree angle to your intended victim.” His breath came down hot on my neck as his hand held mine steady, moving us into position. His front was against my back, our bodies touching in so many places I was lost in sensory overload. “Many people make the mistake of using their force with their knife. No, angel, use the apple and press against the blade so that you keep control of the knife at all times. Only press far enough against it to break the skin. Glide the apple against the smooth metal of your blade.”

His every word somehow enticed me and made me want to fall into a puddle on the floor, and we were talking about an apple and a knife. Seriously, I was sick and twisted on the inside to find pleasure in this moment.

He rocked against me as we finished peeling the apple and went to remove the core. Once again, his hand covered mine, and he manipulated the tool to remove the middle of the green fruit.

When he finished and pushed away from me, I immediately went cold at the loss of contact. While I tried to ignore the desires of my body, we peeled, cored, and sliced all of the apples.

Step by step, we moved together through the kitchen, getting the apples onto the stovetop with butter, cinnamon, brown sugar, a splash of vanilla, and apple pie spice. While the apples softened, we went on to mix our dough. Laying it out onto the countertop,  I was once again blessed with Giano standing behind me as we rolled out two pie crusts—one for the top and the other for the actual crust. With his hand covering mine, we cut the strips for the lattice work and laid the bottom in our greased pan.

Looking down at my completed pie an hour later, I was amazed at its golden perfection.

“We make a great team,” Giano praised. “Now, as much as I would love to eat that, return to school tomorrow with that for your teacher and then ask if you can try the assignment again with her watching. We do not simply accept failures. If she doesn’t allow it, so be it. Your grades are still good, but the point is to try and try again until you achieve success.”

I didn’t know if he was giving me fatherly advice or life advice. Either way, every word that came from Giancarlo Diamante’s mouth held weight and value with me. I would treasure each word and each moment he had given me … And apple pie would never be a simple dessert again.

Chapter Ten

Another Year Later

The lies we tell ourselves often become our own version of the truth.

I’d had time to find my own footing in the life of Angelina Nylene Diamante. Over the last few years of attending school, I had found it easier and easier to be her and no longer myself. Since the mall incident, I had found comfort in knowing that, even when I was out with my friends, Giano was never really far away. He was always watching me and prepared to step in to keep me safe and our truths hidden. I also found myself less afraid of slipping up as the time passed by.

School was school. It didn’t come easily, but as long as I remained focused, I managed to get by with honor roll. I was not a straight-A student, but I wasn’t far off from one. Private school was never something anyone viewed as easy. Having less than fifteen kids per class, the teachers were all up in our business and all over our schoolwork.

Religion was the hardest class for me personally. How was I supposed to believe in this Heavenly Spirit when my beginning had been so rough? Did they really think there was some Almighty Creator watching over us? If so, they had to be sadly mistaken. Why would the Heavenly Father allow such things to happen to me?
Larger plan
, they said. Life was life, and no one was going to be in charge of my destiny, regardless of the Almighty. Maybe one day I could believe, perhaps even forgive, but until that time, I did the work I had to while laughing inside at their false hope in something absolutely unreal.

Amanda said I was jaded. She wouldn’t have survived my history, much less come out of it as Suzy Sunshine. If jaded was the worst thing she could say about me, I would take it, all while smiling and thinking,
if she only knew the whole truth
...

Regardless of her judgments, Amanda and I were friends. Randi, she, and I had formed a bond. Well, as much of a bond as we could form, given I was living a lie. We spent many afternoons together at one another’s houses, studying and gossiping much like I suspected normal teenagers did.

Like any other year, the beginning of our junior year started with new teachers, new classes, and new students. Fall was here, and this year was the year we would make our mark. The three of us had finally filled out. I had the figure of a Victoria Secret model. The lady at the store had even told me to submit something for a casting call. Giano had quickly shut her down, but I did fall in love with their classic push up bra that gave me more cleavage than a teen girl probably should have.

Randi had managed to fill into a small B cup while she remained short and tiny. Her blonde hair now came past her shoulders in spiral curls, and her makeup would forever be overdone. Mandy still had her big butt, and while she had grown taller, she hadn’t filled out beyond the added fake-chicken-cutlet-looking, plastic things she added inside her bras.

We had become our own version of the three amigas and rarely weren’t together. It was hard to call them my friends when they truly didn’t know the truth, but they were really all I had. I firmly lived by the less is more code. The less people I associated with, the safer I would be long-term. These two seemed to understand that I was shy and didn’t push me to branch out of our tiny circle. I was okay with that. There was a comfort in it.

“You know, Natalie was caught last night blowing Tyson at the football game. What a slut!” Amanda criticized, much like she did every day. She had a hard up hatred for Natalie, and I really didn’t know why.

“A slut I wanna be.” Randi laughed her reply.

I sighed, remaining quiet, refusing to engage in the conversation. High school, what a difficult place—not yet a grown up, but no longer a little child. The world kept spinning, while I struggled to find solid ground outside of the house.

“Angelina, you seriously need to upgrade your room,” Randi stated matter-of-factly, only annoying me further.