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Chapter 19
Arietta
“You weren’t kidding when you said your boss is rude and hot.” Sinclair’s hand dives back into one of the brown paper bags she carted home from the grocery store. “I bet angry sex with him is out of this world.”
I bet any sex with him is.
I shake that thought away. “I’m sorry he rushed off like that. At least you got to meet him.”
Sinclair turns toward me. Clearing her throat, she lowers her voice. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Morgan. Good day.”
I shake my head as I critique her impersonation of my boss. “He didn’t add the good day.”
Shaking the bunch of carrots in her hand at me, she laughs. “You’re right. He didn’t.”
I shrug. “That’s classic Dominick.”
She grabs an eggplant from the bag. “He has big dick energy though. Like huge dick energy.”
I close my eyes. “Don’t talk about his penis.”
I feel her fingertip tap the center of my forehead. “You think about it. Don’t pretend you have never thought about it, Arietta.”
Popping my eyes open, I fight a smile. “He uses that big dick to break hearts.”
Sinclair stops unloading the groceries to face me. “It’s not his fault women want more after he fucks them. It’s a curse. I feel sorry for him.”
She exaggerates a frown before she bursts out in laughter.
Rolling my eyes, I point at the bag from Calvetti’s. “Let’s talk less about him and more about whatever is in there.”
She claps her hands together. “Marti made us a feast.”
She did. She truly is the sweetest woman in this city.
“Let’s put all the food I bought away, and then we’ll eat,” Sinclair suggests. “We’ll save the soup I got you for tomorrow.”
I reach to hug her. “Thank you again for that. I had no idea Mr. Calvetti would come here today. I sure as hell didn’t expect him to show up with food.”
“He came to check you out.” She looks me up and down. “I take it your nipples rose to the occasion when you saw him.”
I crack a smile. “It’s chilly in here.”
“Apparently not now.” She points at my chest. “He came here because he wanted to see you. Lucky him that he showed up when you’re looking more beautiful than ever.”
I laugh that off. “My nose is red, and my eyes are watering. I’m a mess.”
“You’re drop-dead gorgeous.” She tips my chin up with her index finger. “There’s natural beauty, and then there’s you. You have a glow about you. I can’t describe it, but I’ve never met anyone as striking as you.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I’m grateful that I can blame it on my cold. “You’re too good to me.”
“I’m not.” She reaches to hug me. “You’re as beautiful inside as you are on the outside. If any of that rubs off on me, I’ll consider myself lucky.”
***
Being the trooper that I am, I took one day off and showed up at work this morning. Mr. Calvetti didn’t.
It wasn’t until my coffee break that I discovered he was on a flight headed to Boston. Bronwyn clued me into that. Since I had no assigned work for the day, I spent my time helping Mr. Corning and Bronwyn.
I was rewarded with a warm ‘thank you’ from Mr. Corning and the chance to leave work an hour earlier than I usually do.
I spent that time wisely.
I went home and had a short nap, took Dudley for a walk, and warmed up the soup Sinclair bought yesterday.
After that, I decided to head out for a little shopping spree. That brought me here.
Yanking on the door to my favorite vintage shop, I’m instantly greeted with the calming smell of vanilla.
Lynn, the owner of Past Over, always burns her handmade vanilla candles on the checkout counter. I’ve told her at least ten times to sell them. She’d make a mint, but she’s always said that old treasures are her passion, not smelly candles.
“Welcome to Past Over,” she yells from somewhere near the back of the store. “I’ll be right with you.”
“It’s just me,” I call out. “Arietta.”
I see her the moment she rounds the corner and treks up an aisle lined with shelves containing hundreds of mismatched dishes. Everything from delicate china teacups to ceramic soup bowls are stacked on top of each other, waiting for the right person to come in to take them home so they can be put to good use again.
Lynn skims a hand over her graying brown hair before she adjusts her wire-rimmed eyeglasses. “Arietta! I’ve missed you.”
It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve stopped by the store. I’d blame that on work, but I’ve been spending a lot of time parked on the couch next to Sinclair watching the legal thriller that Leta recommended.
“I’m here now.” I laugh. “I brought you something.”
I shove a white box tied with pink string at Lynn. “There are two cupcakes in there for you. One is chocolate, and the other is lemon.”
