AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The dual meaning causes a shiver to ripple through me and wetness to pool inside my panties.
“I still have an effect on you, baby girl,” he whispers, leaning into my space.
I drink my liquor, a lot more vodka than tonic, and stay silent.
“I still want you, and if you’d stop being such a proud woman, you’ll love what I give you. You want it. I still see it in your eyes.”
I take a step from him, but he snags his hands around my waist.
“Can I have your attention please?” a feminine voice I’m not familiar with calls out from the stage. My eyes adjust to her face, and it’s Isabel, whose features are so similar to her brother’s. “Eight years ago, I was given a prognosis, one I didn’t think I could ever beat. I was diagnosed with leukemia, and if that wasn’t bad enough, my life was falling apart. I’d accepted my life would be over in a year, and I’d live out what I had left on the island of Sardinia, where my family home is located. On the flight over, fate gave me a second chance at life as a world-renowned oncologist sat next to me. Through my medication, he figured out I was fighting the bitch known as cancer. When everyone had told me all hope was lost, this man next to me whom I share a last name with now, didn’t give up. With cutting-edge technology, I beat my death sentence, and now live a wonderful life with my husband. In honor of leukemia, I urge you to search your soul and what the world would be like without the heartache of cancer in everyone’s life. Let’s help those much less fortunate than me.” She reaches for her drink and lifts it, as she is about to toast the room. “To the Luis and Isabel Marcos Fund of Hope.”
My eyes veer to Luca, and he begins to tear up, but they don’t overflow. The man has a heart, after all. But now I understand why a marriage looks so odd to the human eye.
“Are you okay, Luc?” I ask.
He gives me a swift nod, moving his eyes from me. “It’s okay to be vulnerable. You almost lost your sister.”
He stays quiet for a beat longer. “I don’t want to talk about this. Only about you and me, Heaven.”
I shake my head. “There’s not a you and me, but I’ve been meaning to call you. After all, you’re still my client.”
He takes another drink. “I’m listening.”
“You know Harry Lane is incompetent, right?” I toss it out there, not sugar-coating it.
He physically steps back at my callous words. “I don’t understand. He’s never let me down. Sure, there was an issue early on, but he assured me it had everything to do with his son’s wedding.”
I take a step away. “If you say so.”
His hand stops me, tugging me back to him, as he circles my wrist with his large hand.
“No, I don’t say so. I know so, but if there’s an issue between you two, I want to hear it.”
Maybe it’s all in my head and I’m pissed off that I have no more interaction with this man in front of me, as it was myself who had requested it.
“Nothing to tell. I guess I’m wrong.” He lets go of my hand and I barely get away from him, my heart thundering from his slight touch. Fuck, I miss Luca De Santos.
* * *
I’m pathetic in my flannel pajamas and a cup of hot chocolate brewing in my Keurig at nine p.m. on a Friday night.
The phone buzzes and I answer it as fast as I can without taking a peek at the screen.
“Hello?” I’m not sure why I think it’s Luca. Not a word or a peep since last week when I last saw him. He’s keeping his distance after I walked away. What should I expect?
“Would you stop answering the phone like a lovesick teen and call the bossy bastard already?”
my sister admonishes me over the phone.
“Hello to you, too, Bris. Speaking of bossy bastards, you’re one to talk. You’re the bossiest of them all.”
“Not sure, lil’ sis. I don’t currently tie those I sleep with to my bedpost, now do I?”
Shit, I swear there are some things I should never tell my sister because she’ll throw it back in my face.
Tossing marshmallows into my hot cocoa, I’m three steps from my open living room, a date with further discovery when a knock at my door stops me. Who the hell is here at this time of night? I retrace my steps through my kitchen leading to the hallway.
“Hold on, Bristol, someone is at the door. If you hear a shriek, call 911, would you?”
