I wish there was an off switch that would keep me from blushing. Just hearing Julian’s name does overpowering things to me.
How much of this is obvious?
“Then I shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer,” I say, holding his gaze. “If you leave now, I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”
He jumps to his feet. “I can take a hint.”
“Wasn’t really a hint, Tye.”
He snorts, tosses his hat in the air and catches it neatly behind his back. “Wear this.” He drops the hat on my head on his way out the door.
I pull the hat off and toss it on the desk. “Why?”
Tye leans in way too close and slides a few strands of my hair through his fingers. Someone really ought to teach these boys a few lessons about personal space. I bat his hand away.
“Because,” he says, grinning, “Julian forgot to get you one. You need a hat if you’re gonna be a real cowgirl. And it’ll be fun to watch him get jealous.”
I have no intention of becoming a ‘real cowgirl’.
As for Tye’s second point, I have a tough time imagining that a man as gorgeous and unflappable as Julian Tempesta ever has a reason to feel jealous about anything. He certainly has no reason to get jealous over me.
Tye starts to stroll out of the room but then pivots, leaning his forearm on the door frame. “I’m holding you to that fifteen minute promise. To find my father’s study, go downstairs, take a left, and it’s the first room on the right.”
“Got it.” I start to shut the door.
He pushes his boot in the way for the second time today. “And leave your phone here. There’ll be hell to pay if it goes off while you’re meeting with my dad. Better not test this theory.” He points to the wall clock. “Fourteen minutes left, Cecilia. Don’t make me come back and get you. That’ll put me in a bad mood.”
I wait until I’ve successfully shut the door and locked it before indulging in a minor anxiety attack. Slumped against the wall with my heart pounding and my hands cold, I snatch my phone from the desk.
I’ve never been in such dire need of a pep talk. There’s really only one person who can give me that.
It’s Sunday morning. Alice is most likely at home.
She picks up instantly. “It’s about time. I’ve been frantic, worrying about you. What’s with all the mystery? Who the hell are these people you’re visiting? When will you be back?”
“Alice.” I take a deep breath, in and out. My voice cracks anyway. “I swear I’ll explain everything to you. But right now I need you to tell me that I can do this.”
There’s plenty to love about Alice but what I love the most about my best friend is how she intuitively understands when it’s not the time to argue.
“You can do this, Cecilia,” she says. “Whatever it is, you’ve got it. You’re the strongest person I know. Repeat after me. I CAN DO THIS.”
“I can do this,” I whisper.
“Again,” she says.
I stand up and imagine that my bones are iron. Liquid steel flows in my blood. I’m invincible. “I can do this.”
“Good,” she says. “Don’t you dare forget that it’s true.”
I CAN DO THIS.
The words penetrate deeply. My pulse gradually slows to a normal pace and I glance at the clock.
I now have twelve minutes to get ready and appear before Cassio Tempesta and his sons.
7
CECILIA
