The Twelve Zenati Pt. 19

"I'm starved. Is there somewhere close that does a nice lunch?" Marcella asked, as he slid into the other side of the car.

"I've got an idea, if you'll trust me," he asked tentatively, as he fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it on again, before pulling out of the carpark.

"Trust you?" Marcella turned to look at him. "Like I have a choice right now," she sighed, but she couldn't deny that he had given her no reason to mistrust him during the last few days. When he remained silent, she waved her hand. "Fine. I'll trust you as far as lunch goes."

"Not quite an unequivocal yes, but I'll take it," he chuckled and drove to an old-fashioned American- style diner near the boardwalk. "It doesn't look like much, but the food is great, trust me."

"You're asking me to trust you a lot today," she laughed. "I don't think it's going to be that easy."

"Where you lead, I follow." He swept his arm ahead of them as he held the door open for her. She chose a booth in the back corner and studied the menu, making a quick decision about the food as the waitress appeared, placing iced water in a retro-style bottle and small glasses.

"That was a quick decision," Noah chuckled.

"I wasn't joking when I said I was starving," she shrugged, pouring herself a glass of water as she waited for her burger and shake to arrive. "So, you think they bugged our car?"

"I wouldn't put it past them," Noah shrugged, "It's probably what I would do if I had enemies on every side. If she gets caught making deals with us, instead of siding with one of the power-hungry wannabe leaders of the clan, then she's in more trouble than just dealing with us. The flip side is that it is very likely that Vinnie Vegas will rat her out because he didn't get to exact his price from you for the information," he said, hoping that she would tell him that he got the wrong impression of that price from Bea.

"So we leave the car here for Val to pick up and check over, and Uber it back to StarCity," Marcella said, as if it was the most logical response to what Noah had said.

"You don't have to be afraid of me seeing my family. I promise that I won't do anything to compromise you or your plans. You're in control until we finish this plan of yours, but to get what you need without exposing you or your alter ego, we are going to need help. Help from the one person I trust above all others with this information." He paused and looked at her. "My Dad."

"Your Dad!" she exclaimed, nearly knocking her water flying.

"He would never betray me, and he is Olivia's lawyer in my absence, so he is in the best place to advise her. We don't have to tell him the whole story, but we do have to talk about whether what Bea is asking for is even possible. Think about it from a purely legal point of view of a deceased estate. If Olivia is exonerated and can claim the estate that Remington left behind, even if no one else contests it, how would she explain gifting the mansion to a housekeeper who allowed Remington to abuse her for a year or more?" Noah reasoned, his professional mind racing through all of the possible obstacles in their way.

"Fine," Marcella grumbled, acknowledging that he had some good points, and doing it this way could negate having to deal with Genesis, Gideon and Vivienne when she tried to talk to Olivia herself. She hated that he was rescuing her again though, instead of sitting back and waiting for her to make the decisions. He was supposed to be following her lead, and once again, she felt like he was taking over.

"Look, we don't have to meet him today. You have time to think and come up with a different plan. I was just trying to help, not take over or tell you what to do. I wasn't sure you realised that I had handed over Olivia's case to my Dad when I asked for some time away from all the family bullshit," Noah said as he tried to smooth over what he realised was his mistake, when he had tried so hard not to take over her plans. "I won't suggest anything else unless you ask first," he said sincerely, even though he that knew he was right. She had got this far on bravado alone, which was more than he had done, even with the help of the Tatar.

"Why does it have to be your Dad?" Marcella sighed. She knew the older generation of the Tables all too well and had no doubt that she wouldn't like what Armando wanted to do with the information. She would almost prefer going head to head with Genesis, again.

"I understand that your family was..." he paused, fumbling for the right words.

"Messed up?" Marcella added to help him.

"Yeah, messed up. But not all families are like that. My Dad won't force you to do anything that you don't want to do. He wouldn't do that to you, or me for that matter. We're close, friends more so than father and son. We hang out sometimes. If anyone can convince Gen to do the right thing here, he can," Noah offered. "He never sent my sister or us away to do our trials and gave us choices as well as steering us in the right direction. Your father is the outlier. Table families don't do the things he did to you. You can trust us. You can trust me, Marcella."

"Next thing you'll tell me is that Santa Claus is real," Marcella laughed. "Just let it go. I'll meet with your Dad but don't try to psychoanalyse me. You won't enjoy what you find if you dig too deep," she said and became suddenly serious, leaning back as the waitress placed her burger and shake in front of her.

Seeing the light die in her eyes as she spoke about her family, and was obviously reminded of all she had left behind when she came here for Olivia, was like a physical slap to Noah, and he cursed himself for bringing up her family when she was just questioning why he would call his Dad rather than his brothers. Unable to come up with a way to break through the dark cloud that he had pulled down over them, they ate in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, or so Noah thought.

"I know that not every family was like mine." Marcella finally broke the silence in a small voice, as if reluctant to speak. "I know people tried to help me, us..." she sighed. "I just..."

"I know." Noah cleared his throat, knowing what he was about to say might push a wedge between them that he might never overcome.

"Apollo called in his mentor from the Battaglia when we put him under house arrest for hurting you, accidental or not." He held up his hands. "They filled us in on most of your story. Some other parts were in Olivia's file, and she filled in some blanks herself. Most of the reason that she hasn't wanted you close to her is that she feels guilty about what she did to you. She knows she made it harder for you at home, when you only tried to help her. I know about your father and your uncle. I know," he said again, unable to read any emotion in her face.

"Do they all know?" she asked quietly, in a robotic voice.

"Not all, and not everything, but Gen and Gideon do, which is another reason that Gideon yelled at me the morning I left. He and Vivienne were... are pretty desperate to find you," he said. "Dominic pointed out to us both that you have obviously dealt with it all. You have a career, a home of your own. You are hardly a basket case wallowing in the past or the injustices you've suffered. You've also made it your work to protect women in dire situations, much like Vivienne, but in different ways for different reasons. You're amazingly strong and resilient." Noah spoke quietly and looked her in the eye as he spoke.

"Fine. Call your Dad. The sooner I make sure Olivia is safe and protected, the sooner I can get back to my life." She gave a half-hearted smile.

"You wouldn't consider staying here? Making Darwin home?" he asked. "You could take over my practice, when I finally have to hand it over or close it for good."

"No, I think I will take Stevie West on an adventure or two between checking in on my mother. She wasn't much of a mother, but I can't blame her for that," Marcella shrugged.

"What sort of adventure?" Noah asked, tilting his head and thinking fast. What would he do if she was determined to leave? Could he let her go so easily? Maybe he could negotiate smaller adventures throughout the year that they could do together? Fuck, he hadn't even ... He needed to... Fuck, he needed more time. Time that he knew he didn't have if he didn't make things happen fast between them. He may have finally come to terms with what he was feeling for her but, after keeping her at arm's length for so long, he doubted that she would believe he was sincere if he told her how his feelings for her had grown and intensified.

*****

"Hello?" Armando answered his phone, unsure of who would be calling him from an unknown number. He waited for a few beats, listening to the quiet breaths on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" he said again. "This is Armando Zenati. Do you need help?" he asked the silent person that he knew was on the other end.

"Yes, I think so," Marcella whispered into the phone. "Could you meet me, tonight, by yourself, no watchers. It could be somewhere public if you want," she said, in a hurry. She listened to a beat of silence on his end and added, "This is Marcella Gambaro."

"Marcella! Where are you now? I could come to you. Everybody has been very worried about you since you left the hospital. Are you well? Do you need a doctor?" He immediately stood up and gathered his wallet and keys.

"I'm perfectly healthy, thank you, but I think I need your advice. Your speciality is family law, right?" she asked tentatively and looked at the pool where, once again, Noah burned off his frustration by swimming laps.

"I can leave right now. Tell me where you are," Armando said, feeling like she might change her mind and disappear on him again.

She considered his question and wondered how much time she would have, between leaving this lounger and Noah realising that she had gone without telling him. The fall-out of that decision, and the price of breaking the rules of their agreement, could be more than she wanted to pay. Still, it was a big place. She could do this without actually leaving the premises.

"Can you meet me at the StarCity Casino, at the Lagoon Bar?" she asked quietly. "How soon could you get there?"

"I'm leaving now. I can be there in fifteen minutes or less, if I'm lucky," Armando said, as he walked with purpose to his car.

"Armando, please don't tell Noah that I called you, not yet anyway. I need to decide some things on my own," she stated. "He doesn't get that, I don't think," she sighed, as she heard his car start and shift into gear.

"I understand, Marcella. I'll be there soon, okay? Just hang tight," Armando said. "I'm glad that you called me, for what it's worth," he said gently and ended the conversation before she could change her mind. Of course, she could always fail to meet him, even though she had been the one to call. He hoped she wouldn't. Reaching out to him could be the start of her trusting his family again, after the debacle of the last few days.

Marcella waited by the pool, finishing her iced pineapple juice and staring at Noah's phone, as if daring his father to call it with the news that she had contacted him. Pleasantly surprised that he hadn't broken her confidence, she rose and went to the side of the pool, splashing the water to get Noah's attention.

"What's up?" he asked, coming to the edge of the three-lane lap pool.

"I'm off to the Spa to get a massage. They had a late cancellation and can fit me in if I head over now. I'll be about an hour, so I'll drop your phone and wallet back in the room while you finish your swim," she said cheerily, dangling a room key from her fingers for him. "Maybe we can try one of the restaurants here, tonight, for dinner?" she asked, letting him know that he didn't have to worry about her returning after her imaginary massage.

"Sure," he nodded, looking at his watch. "Meet you back in the room in an hour and we can decide where to eat from there?" he asked.

"Sounds like a plan," she said, then stood and gathered her things, leaving him with a room key he could tuck into his swim shorts. She walked casually inside and toward their room. When she was sure that she couldn't be seen, she hurried her pace, changing quickly and running a brush through her hair, glad that she had spent the time straightening it this morning before going to meet with her contact, when her phone chimed with a text.

4:29 Armando: I'm here. I don't see you.

4:30 Marcella: On my way. Two minutes.

Putting her hair up in a ponytail and checking her reflection, she left the room and headed towards the Lagoon Bar, where the spa was also conveniently located. She watched her pathway ahead for any sign that Noah was returning to the room early, but wasn't brave enough to skirt close enough to the lap pool to ensure he was still there. She'd lied. She'd given him no reason to trust her since he found her, yet he seemed to just accept what she said. That made her more suspicious than if he had have questioned her. It was too late now to change her plans, and she began to feel bad that she had lied to him because she wanted to meet Armando alone and judge him for herself before telling him the whole story.

Typing a text as she walked, she let Noah know that the cancellation hadn't materialised, but she had decided to stay at the Lagoon Bar, to take some time to think over what had happened earlier that day, and she would still meet him back at their suite. When she looked up, it was into the soft smile and warm brown eyes of Armando, and Marcella couldn't quite get over how much Noah resembled his father. She swallowed nervously and walked over to where he stood.

"You do look well," Armando said as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You worried us with that disappearing trick of yours," he admonished her, but held a cheery tone in his voice, lessening the impact.

"Usually, people don't think twice about calling me hard-headed but I get one bump and everyone forgets how many times they described me like that," she joked. "I was fine in the emergency room. There was no reason to get Junie to emotionally blackmail me into staying."

"Is that what happened?" Armando chuckled. "I wondered, when I found out how determined you had been to leave before being taken to your room."

"Did you tell anyone that I called you and asked for this meeting?" she asked, glancing around the lagoon area, as if Watchmen were close by.

"No, I assumed you left for a reason, though no one is quite sure what the reason might be, and I didn't want to get here just to have you run away again. You don't have to worry about watchmen. I am partially-retired and what I do is of no interest to anyone, although meeting a beautiful young woman, half my age, at a bar might raise a few eyebrows at home," Armando assured her, keeping his tone light. "You know if you'd have called Noah, or any of his brothers, they would have come to your aide in a heartbeat," Armando said.

"Gideon and Genesis helped organise my imprisonment in that hospital, and Noah didn't come near me after my accident, so excuse me if I remain a little sceptical about your sons' motives," she rolled her eyes.

"I can understand that, I guess," he nodded thoughtfully. "Does the ring on your hand mean that Apollo was telling the truth?" The cheeriness fell from Armando's voice as he noticed the ring on her left hand.

"No!" she gasped and withdrew her hand, hating that she had forgotten that it was there so soon after putting it on. "It's um... part of the disguise. An engaged or married woman doesn't garner as much attention as a single one, and I don't need that sort of bullshit, or the complications that go along with it," she sighed, telling a partial truth.

"No offence, but I didn't have much trouble recognising you just now," he said, as the bartender approached. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"Did you tell anyone that you were meeting me?" she asked.

"Not even my wife, to tell her I might be late for dinner," he said sincerely.

"Then yes, a vodka, lime and soda, thanks," she nodded to the bartender.

"I'll have a lite beer, thanks," he said, and placed a twenty on the bar and turned his focus back to Marcella. Surprising her, he fished his phone from his jacket pocket and held it up to her with the log of his most recent calls showing that hers was the last call he had received or made. Once she nodded in acknowledgement, he brought up the log of his text messages, showing names and times, and again there was nothing since she had called him.

"You didn't have to do that, but thank you," she said quietly, and accepted the drink from the barman. "Would you mind if we grabbed that table over there before I tell you why I called?"

"Lead on," he saluted her with his beer after taking a sip.

Marcella positioned them at the small table so that only she could be seen from inside the building, with Armando falling into the deep shadow of a large tropical plant. Once she was sure of not being interrupted by the untimely appearance of Noah, she swallowed and looked at Armando.

"Tell the truth, do you know where Noah is?" she asked quietly, watching him carefully.

"Truthfully, I thought he might have been with you. He's not one to shirk his duty, and leaving while Dominic was still recovering would have taken something..." he shrugged, "Significant."

"And you think that I would be significant enough to make him turn his back on his duty to the Table?" she asked, frowning, thrown off kilter slightly by Armando's words.

"Yes," Armando answered, without reservation.

"No," she shook her head. "He's made it more than clear, on several occasions, that he has no interest in me, romantically or otherwise. Except to tell me how to live my life and take over all my investigations to prove that he is better than me," Marcella grumbled, but she no longer felt the same anger and resentment about the words that she had just spewed out. Things had been different between them over the last two days, but not so different that she would fool herself into thinking that he was here for any other reason than knowing her plans and taking credit for the arrests and information that they would gather towards the investigation into Olivia.

"I think you could be wrong about that," Armando stifled his smile. "Noah can come across as cool and aloof, but he's always been a bit of a loner. The number of times he went off to do things that..." His voice trailed off as if he was saying too much.

"Things that got him in trouble?" Marcella laughed. "He told me about being rescued from a cliff edge, after trying to make a hang glider. You were right, by the way. He's here. Well, he's swimming laps or back in our room. He said that I could trust you. That he trusted you more than anyone else and that you would help me if I asked," she said, trying to keep to her plan, despite finding Armando easy to talk to, and wanting to know more about the real Noah.

"And you need my help now?" Armando asked carefully wondering what sort of help she would need that Noah couldn't give her.

"For reasons of my own, I need to make sure that Olivia will be able to live her life as she wants to. Not the way the Tables, or circumstances, dictate. I need to make sure that she will be free to make those choices for herself," Marcella tried to explain then took a large breath and rushed on. "I made some contacts who could help me prove her version of events with Remington Royce. I knew what I was doing, and I took those risks because, well, I have my reasons. I knew what I was doing, I have a plan, and an escape plan if I need it, but..."

"But Noah came along and interfered with your plans," Armando finished for her.

"Not just Noah. There have been a series of events, Apollo coming here being a catalyst for disaster," she sighed, and looked up at the man who seemed genuinely interested in what she was saying and unconcerned by her revelations so far as he sipped his beer. "But yes, Noah. He blackmailed me into agreeing to let him help me with my plan," she paused, and was pleased that Armando's eyebrows rose in surprise. "We have this agreement that we both signed. It wouldn't hold up in a court of law, but it might hold up under Table law, or so he tells me."