Page 402 of Valentino

I walk up the hallway and out into the kitchen, no sign of him. I can smell freshly brewed coffee, he’s been up.

I walk through the living room and the television is on CNN news. “Gabriel,” I call.

“In here,” he calls back.

I smile and make my way up another corridor; this apartment is so huge. I find him sitting behind a desk in his office, he’s fully dressed in a suit and, on his computer typing away.

Oh….

I linger at the door and finally he looks up, “Good morning.”

“You’re working?” I frown.

“I am.”

I know for a fact that he finished for the year yesterday. “I thought you finished?”

“You thought wrong.” He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes and I instantly know that the sweet man who made love to me all night is gone.

Gabriel Ferrara is here in his place.

Maybe I’m imagining it, I walk over sit in his lap and he kisses me quickly. “Give me a minute to finish up here, Grace, and I’ll take you home.” He taps my behind to get me off his lap. “Go get dressed.”

What?

I walk to the door, feeling awkward, not quite the greeting I expected. I make my way up to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

What the hell was that?

With my heart in my throat, I drink my coffee, I’m not getting dressed. We need to talk.

I wait and wait and wait….

Twenty minutes later he walks out, his back is ramrod straight and he looks me up and down. “I thought you were getting dressed.”

My eyes search his and he snaps them away. He goes to the coffee machine and pours himself a cup of coffee, he can’t even look me in the eye.

“Is this about me leaving?” I ask softly.

He stays silent and sips his coffee, his eyes are wild as if he’s about to lose control.

It is.

“I guess,” I smile hopefully, “I could rent my house out and….” I shrug. “We can’t work together anymore, but….”

He walks over and stares out the window with his back to me.

Yes, why not? I could stay. After the magical night that we had, I have to see where this goes.

“I’ll get another job, and I mean.” I begin to pace as I think out loud, “I’ll have to rent another apartment but as long as the rent covers my mortgage…. then.”

He remains silent, his back still to me.

“I mean, of course, I’ll have to go for a week to collect the keys and stuff, but I’ll come right back.”

“You need to go to Connecticut.”

I frown, “Connecticut?”