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Chapter 22
Carla
"Can we get that spaghetti and meatball out,por favore," I call out to the kitchen staff, deep in my role as restaurant owner, though I often love being the chef as well when I get the chance. Stress is high today because for a few days I have been trying to get everything in order for someone to run the place most of the time who isn’t me. I am going to come back once in a while to check on things, of course, but my home is going to be in Munich with Philippe now. I have to have those I trust making sure my restaurant doesn't go down in flames without me here. But my stress is making me hard on those around me, and I think I need a break. I am usually good with being a bitch, but my employees are actually great at what they do and deserve the space to do what they need to.
I take off my apron and leave the kitchen, pulling out my phone as I hit the back exit to get some fresh air. I smile down at the messages I still have open from the night before. Even though Philippe and I are in two different countries, we are finding ways to make things interesting even from afar. It’s one of the few reasons why I feel like I am back in the swing of things and able to look forward to our wedding which is just around the corner now. Maybe I am not excited about being tied down in a way, but I am happy about the idea of freedom from my father and mother and their rules for me. I am happy about the fact that there will be a whole 24 hours where it is all about me, because, what bitch doesn’t like the spotlight to shine on her every once in a damn while?
Philippe has been great at compromising now, and I think I owe him a lot for that even though I don’t think I will ever feel comfortable saying such a thing out loud. We have been sexting back and forth ever since I came back to the states to deal with saying my goodbyes to my friends and family and getting the restaurant ready, but we’ve added in a fun little twist now. Sometimes, I grab a chick from a chat room, just someone random, and pull her into the conversation.
I know that while our threesome was so fuckin’ hot that Philippe still feels a little uncomfortable with those things, but virtually, you can often let loose without any fear because it's not real. You can try things and see how you feel about them. That’s what we were doing last night, and fuck I am still so hot from it. I am going to have to take care of myself tonight, maybe on the phone with him, just to make it through, especially with all the added stress of the wedding. I’ve been having to pick out my dress and have it shipped out and everything. I can’t imagine what it’s like for Philippe, trying to deal with the rest of the plans without me.
He’s doing it without the help of Luna for the most part as well. She has run a few errands, but he has mostly communicated with her via text or through someone else on his staff. He even rented her a nice place outside the city where she can have the baby and plenty of room, but it’s about more than that. We both needed her as far away from us as was reasonable. There was no way in hell we could grow and bond with her right there in our faces with that damn baby bump.
The bigger it gets, the more real it is to me that he is having a child with someone else, and it pisses me the fuck off. Not that I am ready yet to do the whole mommy thing, but if I am going to have a man, I am going to be possessive. That’s just me, and I want to be the first one to give him that child. The only one. And now here some low-grade secretary has swooped in and fucked it all up.
Feeling frustrated from letting Luna get in my head yet again, I pull the chat back up and begin typing, ready to start where we left off. I need a distraction here and pronto.
I send my message and hope that one of them is around to answer, and sure enough, the woman who goes by Elaine, though I have no idea if that is her real name, answers immediately.
I sigh to myself, my center getting wet at the thought of being touched, but then my phone rings.
It’s Philippe of all people. But I know better than to not answer.
“Funny hearing from you right now,” I say as I lean on the side of the building, trying to calm my body down from its short-lived arousal.
“It’s not a coincidence,” he says, and I can’t tell if what is in his voice is anger or just his seriousness to let me know we are not joking right now. “I wanted to talk about the messages between you and Elaine.”
I roll my eyes, knowing that it is not even a reasonable time of day for him, so for him to be watching the chat and worrying forces us to suddenly take five steps back all over again. Is he really going to come back at me with more accusations of being a slut or a lesbian?
“Are we really going to go through this again?” I ask, a little too harshly, but he needs to get over it. I thought we had moved past all that.
“I have been trying to be understanding, and part of me gets why you like it, but there is something bothering me, myflori salbatice,” he says, the new nickname rolling off his tongue. It means wildflower. I have been learning Romanian ever since I was told I would be marrying a Romanian man. “I gave you that ring and do the things I do for a reason. I don’t know how you feel about me yet, but I know how I feel about you. I worry that our marriage will be a sham still. That you will not stay faithful to me. I am okay with sometimes spicing things up, but I need some stability.”
My face is turning red as the anger bubbles up. I feel there are more rules coming down on me I didn’t expect. The whole point of this marriage is for my damn freedom.
But then something strange happens – I stop myself before I say anything damning. What makes me do it is his tone of voice. There is nothing angry or accusing. He sounds worried and insecure. He really isn’t kidding about giving a damn, is he?
I let out a few breaths to calm myself before I give him an answer. I don’t want to say anything I regret.
“Look, I am not used to anyone caring about me this way. When I was told I was getting an arranged marriage, I did not expect it to be more than a contract. I hoped we could be allies, but I saw myself hating you and bucking against you until I got my way. We would both probably have affairs on the side. It is hard for me to see things your way. But for the sake of making this work, I can agree to be faithful to you. Anything else I do will be with your permission and with you in the room if it pleases you to be. But I want your respect for my likes and sexuality in return.”
“Of course,flori salbatice. I would not dream of disrespecting you. You might just be the death of me if I did.”
