Chapter 51
He slumped back in bed as he realized, for the thousandth time, that he was alone. The only things he heard were the sounds the dogs made—not all of them pleasant, the traffic rushing by outside, the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Sometimes his neighbor upstairs played his music too loud, and the hip-hop rhythms, annoying at best, would filter down to Vito. But now it was quiet.
As much as the music—and the lack of consideration—irritated him, he didn’t mind the music so much because it made him feel less alone.
He rose from the bed and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt. It was already after three, and he needed to be in to work by five. Thank God Rosalie had another chef, Elizabeth, to do lunches pretty much all the time now. Vito liked the late nights and sleeping during the day. He could cocoon himself away from the world more easily.
The girls, alerted by their master’s movements, also rose. They began silently pacing about the room, casting hopeful glances his way.