AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A buzzing drew her attention away from the rooftops of Paris. She padded back down the circular stairs and rushed to her front door where a frazzled-looking delivery woman stood, a box under her arm.
“Bonjour.”The woman shoved a clipboard at her, showed her where to sign and then pushed the box into Anna’s arms before disappearing back down the narrow hallway. Anna glanced at the label and savored the little thrill that shot through her veins. The first true burst of happiness she’d felt since she’d woken up to an empty bed.
She brought the box inside and unwrapped it by the window. The standard cardboard shipping container contained a sturdier box, plain white with a small note on top in loopy cursive.
Congratulations on the upcoming line.
The wish from a shopkeeper she’d only met once made her smile. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, then opened them as she lifted the lid.
She had to rear back to keep tears from falling on the mounds of red silk inside. She reached inside, stroked the fabric. She’d accused Antonio of living in the past. Yet as she’d clicked through the photos of her and Antonio’s time together, available online through a variety of media outlets, she’d seen images of herself touching the red silk that first full day in town. The silk she’d walked away from because she’d been unsure. After everything she’d accomplished, and still she’d hesitated.
No more.
Even if Antonio couldn’t move forward, she would. For herself and in honor of the time they’d shared. And the possibility of what they could have been.
She reached into the box and pulled out the first bolt of fabric. She had some work to do.
Antonio stared down at the advanced copy of the November issue of the luxury fashion magazine. Had it really only been six weeks since he’d kicked her out of his life?
Anna had accomplished a lot in six weeks. Photos of her and Sylvie Smith had popped up everywhere. Despite his aversion to social media, he’d kept up with her daily posts on Instagram and what she was working on in her Paris flat. Usually, the camera was focused on her fabric, her sketches, her latest creation. But once in a while her hand appeared, or her feet crossed at the ankle as she sat on her rooftop holding up a square of fabric to the setting sun.
Ridiculous how much he savored those glimpses of her.
The media interest had initially flared when Sylvie Smythe had announced a partnership with up-and-coming designer Anna Vega. Each mention of Antonio had been met with a shy smile and a “No comment” from Anna and a snarky “Do you want to know about her work or not?” from Sylvie.
His brothers, mother and even his father had also been pestering him with texts and calls. But after the wedding breakfast, when he’d lied through his teeth that Anna had had to hurry back to Paris for an amazing opportunity, he’d disappeared to Positano to oversee the final phases before the grand opening Mornings were for reports. Afternoons for reviewing the work done that day.
And evenings...most evenings he spent holed up in his room, avoiding the balcony like the plague and sleeping on the couch. The couple of times he ventured into town, he avoided the places that reminded him of Anna. Hard to do when he saw her every time he passed someone eating lemon sorbet or sipping a glass of wine. Seeing couples zip by on scooters was the hardest. He knew she’d been crestfallen when he’d said no. It was absurd that even now he wouldn’t get behind the wheel. How much damage could he do going ten miles an hour up and down teeny streets?
It hadn’t been worth the risk to find out.
He was more than aware of the double standard he’d imposed, being so proud of Anna’s journey to finding her own inner strength while he clung to the ruins of his own past. The nightmares kept him from picking up the phone, calling her or sending a quick text of congratulations, even if his heart fought him. They still plagued him, every night but now with a twist; no longer William’s face but Anna’s covered in blood and broken glass.
So different from the beautiful face gazing up at him. Anna’s face, smiling at something off-camera as she sat on the floor of her flat surrounded by silk.Hersilk, he’d realized when he’d seen the magazine on a stand outside a little shop in town and bought it before he’d been able to talk himself out of it. The title declared Anna Vega: Rising Star of Sustainable Fashion. The diamond bracelet had sparkled from where it sat on the corner of his desk, cold and hard. The opposite of Anna. He’d seen her looking at the silk, had thought of purchasing it for her. But it had unnerved him, the thought of doing something so personal, so he’d bought the most impersonal thing he could find.
...hanging on to the past is more important to you than looking toward the future.
His hands tightened on the magazine. Perhaps he would go down to the gym this evening, run on the treadmill until his body was so exhausted he couldn’t think of blue-amber eyes and a smile that made him warm and possessive. His fingers settled on the pages. Did he dare open it? Further torture himself by reading her words, seeing more photos?
His phone buzzed. He glanced at the number and answered.
“Yes, Paul?”
“Sir, your guests are here.”
“My what? Paul, we don’t open for another two weeks.”
“That’s what I told them, sir, but—”
“¡Mi hermano!Call off your guard dog and get your stupidculodown here.”
The muscles in his neck tightened as Alejandro’s voice rang out.
“What are you doing here?”
A scuffling sound ensued, followed by an even deeper voice. “We’re here to knock some sense into you.”
Adrian. He leaned back in his chair and tossed the magazine onto his desk. It was only a matter of time before his older brothers came knocking.
