Heat scorched Olivia’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. . . .” She trailed off, certain nothing she could say would make up for her insensitivity. “Forgive me. I sometimes blurt things out without thinking.”
Mr. Reed shook his head. “No need to apologize. It’s a question I get asked quite often, and I’ll admit I’m a bit touchy about the subject.” His face relaxed into a smile. “Now, what’s next on our tour?”
Darius stood in the massive kitchen beside a double-sized range and whistled. “What my mother wouldn’t give for a stove like this.”
“Impressive, isn’t it? We figured we’d need a large oven to feed the number of residents we expect.” Miss Rosetti gestured to the high kitchen cabinets. “These cupboards were already here, so we had more than enough storage for the extra dishes and cookware.”
He crossed the pristine linoleum floor, obviously recently installed, toward a white cabinet in the corner with a metal handle. He ran a reverent hand over the smooth surface. “Is this a refrigerator?”
Miss Rosetti grinned. “It is. Ruth splurged on this, mostly to impress the cook, I think, though I will admit it’s very convenient. The salesman told us that soon every household will have one.” She laughed, her eyes brightening. For a brief moment, the guarded look left her features, and she seemed almost relaxed.
“It makes our little icebox at home look rather outdated.” His lips twitched into a smile.
“Where do you live, Mr. Reed?” She leaned against the counter near the sink.
He almost said “the Greek quarter” but caught himself in time. “Near Danforth Avenue. I’m staying with my parents right now so my mother can watch Sofia while I work.”
“Sofia. What a beautiful name.” Miss Rosetti’s whole face softened. “I imagine she’s the light of your life.”
Darius nodded, his throat tightening. “She’s my whole world. The reason for everything I do.”
She stepped closer. “Then she’s lucky to have a father like you. Not every child is so fortunate.”
Darius stared into her deep brown eyes, mesmerized by the churn of emotion he saw there. Sorrow, regret, and perhaps a touch of admiration? What secrets did their depths hold?
She lowered her gaze, as though suspecting she’d revealed too much, and the sweep of her lashes brushed her cheeks.
“What about your family?” he asked, hoping she might open up about herself. “Do they live nearby?”
He regretted his words immediately when her whole demeanor changed. Visible anguish washed over her features before her expression hardened.
“They live on the other side of town. Not far from the Jewish Market,” she said.
“Ah, one of my mother’s favorite places to shop when she gets the chance. Does your family own a business there?” His heart beat a quick rhythm in his chest. He risked alienating her altogether with his barrage of questions, yet he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to know so much more about this mysterious woman.
“Not in the market itself, but a few blocks away.” She scooted by him to open the refrigerator and removed a glass pitcher. “May I offer you something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
The obvious ploy to change the subject led him to suspect all was not right between Miss Rosetti and her family. He recalled Mrs. Bennington saying at the gala that Miss Rosetti had fallen on hard times or some such expression. “I take it you’re not on good terms with your family.”
Her head whipped up. “That is none of your business, Mr. Reed.” Her frosty tone matched the icy pitcher in her hand. She glared at him before taking a glass from an upper shelf and filling it with the chilled water.
Darius ran a hand over his jaw. Terrific. Just when she was becoming more at ease around him, he’d overstepped the invisible boundary once again.
“It’s a bad habit of mine, asking too many questions,” he said ruefully. “Especially when I sense a mystery in the making.” He gave her his best smile, one that usually got him what he wanted. In this case, another smile.
But her lips remained pressed into an unforgiving line as she returned the pitcher to the refrigerator.
Darius searched for a way to get the conversation back on track. At this rate, she’d show him to the door, and he certainly wasn’t ready to leave yet. Before he could come up with an idea, the clatter of rapid footsteps sounded.
“Olivia! I need your help.” A frantic female voice came from the hall. “There’s a flood in the bathroom. What should I do?”
Miss Rosetti whirled around and darted out of the room.
Darius followed right on her heels.
A pregnant woman stood at the base of the stairs, her blouse and skirt showing dark wet patches. Damp strands of hair lay plastered against her cheeks.
“Margaret, what happened?” Miss Rosetti rushed up the staircase, the girl right behind her.
“I don’t know,” Margaret said. “I was washing my hands and the next thing I knew water started spraying everywhere.”
“In the new bathroom?” Miss Rosetti asked over her shoulder.
“Yes. I tried to stop it, but it was too much.”
“Oh dear. Ruth will be devastated.” Miss Rosetti increased her pace and took a sharp right turn at the next level.
Partway down the corridor, they entered a room. One of the women shrieked.
Darius dashed inside, dismayed to find the tiled floor covered in over an inch of water. A stream spewed forth from the curved pipe below the sink.
Already soaked, Miss Rosetti opened a closet door, grabbed a stack of towels, and began to throw them onto the floor.
“Allow me.” Darius pulled a towel from her arms. Squinting against the spray, he bent to wrap the cloth around the leaking joint. Once the flow stopped, he tied the ends into a knot. “That should hold it for a little while. Long
