Chapter Eighteen
“Damn it. Where’s the Patterson file?” Marco asked himself, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He pressed the intercom button. “Claire, get me some coffee, please.”
“Again?” she asked.
He shook his head. So it was his fourth cup that morning. Who cared? “Yes.”
In the past few days, he’d dived into work to forget about walking out on Lily. His fingers itched to call her every time he saw his cell phone. He itched to man up and go see her, take back all the nonsense he’d fed her—and himself. What if, deep down, she agreed with him? She didn’t need a man as cowardly as he’d been by her side.
He’d been such a wimp he hadn’t yet opened the letter his grandmother wrote for him. After her death, the butler found letters she’d left inside her nightstand for her grandkids and other family members. She apparently wrote them a couple of days prior to the party because she’d known she didn’t have much time left. Marco carried his with him, inside his suit, and its presence gave him a sense of comfort he didn’t want to part with.
“Your assistant asked me bring you this,” Nico said, pointing at the coffee mug he carried as he strolled into his office.
“Thanks,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
Nico placed the mug on his desk, and Marco fetched it right away, lifting it to his lips. “When was the last time you slept? Or shaved?”
Marco chugged down the coffee then set down the cup. “I’ve been busy.”
“Yes. Your assistant said you’ve practically lived here for the last few days.”
Marco stretched his arms. “Why do you care?”
Nico didn’t sit. He loitered, leaning against the desk, arms folding as he gave his brother a glance that told him he wouldn’t drop the subject easily.
“What?”
“Lily came to see me yesterday.”
At the mention of her name, his heart skipped a beat, only to resume a second later, faster than ever. “You?”
“Yeah.” Nico opened the folder he carried and laid it on the desk. “She wants to sell her salon to us.”
Sell? This didn’t seem like Lily at all. Marco shortened the gap between them, launching himself at his brother, pulling his collar. “If you bullied her into selling it to you, God help me, I’ll beat the shit out of you,” he said, knowing not only were they the same height, but had similar set of martial art skills.
Nico didn’t move an inch. He stared at him with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Marco’s fingers loosened on his collar until his arms dropped to his sides. “Wow. You really got it bad, baby brother.”
Damn Nico. He knew how much Marco hated the baby brother crap. “Fuck off. Before you do, tell me exactly what happened,” he said. The Lily he knew—the Lily he loved—would never give up the salon that meant so much to her. She loved the place. Why on Earth would she do it?
“Tell me,” he hissed.
His brother lifted his hands in surrender. “Fine. I meant what I said. I didn’t go looking for her. I had even already talked to some disgruntled investors. Anyway, she showed up in my office and offered her salon. I was surprised at first, but I sent her a contract to make sure she wasn’t playing me, using the shop as a lure to get more money.”
“She wasn’t.”
“Nope. She wants all the money to be donated to her charity of choice. And she asked me not to tell you anything. Of course, in life we can’t have everything, so here I am.”
Marco shook his head. “You aren’t going through with this. I forbid you.”
Nico shrugged. “Why? I didn’t twist her arm; she came to me. There is no one in our way.”
“She can’t… That place means everything for her. I need to talk to her.”
“Well, I’m supposed to go inspect it tonight, after a meeting. Maybe I’ll let her know what you think,” Nico said, then smoothed his tie. He strolled to the door, and Marco could tell his brother waited for him to say something. To stop him. He saw Nico leave and close the door behind him, like he had dropped by only to feed him the news.
He reached for the letter buried in the inside pocket of his suit and touched the envelope. The corners of the heavy paper curled, a sign he had played with it long enough, ever since he’d received it. Why did Lily want to sell the salon, and worse, not keep the profits? None of it made sense.
With the tips of his fingers unsteady, he opened the envelope, retrieving the stationary paper with his nonna’s strong, cursive handwriting. He touched the paper before reading, trying to understand why he associated it with Lily.
His pulse raced as he began to read the short note written in Italian.
“My dear Marco,
Tomorrow I will give your Patricia the necklace that belonged to your mother. I don’t know if I’ll be around to see her wearing it, but I want her to have it. I know life didn’t hand you a good start, and many times I blamed myself for your unhappiness. There were many days I wished I had taken you out of your father’s home and raised you myself.
I did try once to talk to him into it, but he refused. I should have tried harder. I should have contacted the authorities—those thoughts have always haunted me.
I thought I’d never see you embracing love. When I met Patricia, I saw how you looked at her, and to know you’ve taken the plunge, that you have decided to pursue your own joy, makes me happier than you can ever imagine.
If this letter reaches you, that means I’ve left and have encountered your mother. I’ll tell her about the smart, successful, caring man you’ve become. I’ll tell her, despite the cards you were dealt, you aren’t afraid anymore.
Love you more than anything,
Nonna.”
Marco sank into the chair, dropping the letter to the floor. His limbs felt weak and loose in contrast to the heavy weight expanding in his chest. His heart throbbed in his temple, pounding his veins more than any migraine ever had.
I’ll tell her, despite the cards you were dealt, you aren’t afraid anymore. He could almost hear his grandmother’s voice saying those words. He thrust his hands into his hair, hoping to ease down the agony consuming him.
Lily is right. I’ve been a coward. “A coward,” he said out loud, as if it would bring any sort of clarity about his actions. She could have used giving up her business as an excuse to see him, or hell, even blackmail him—emotionally or monetarily.
That wasn’t his Lily. She was kind, generous, honest. Maybe he’d known that all along but preferred not to believe it, because knowing a woman like her genuinely loved him made it hard for him not to love her back.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. He loved her…and he’d been a fool not to learn the one lesson she’d taught him even without enunciating the words—courage. She’d fought for her salon. She’d fought for truth the entire time they were together, getting him to speak about the past he’d thought he’d buried. Hell, she’d even fought for him when she told him she’d fallen for him.
A rush of adrenaline bolted through him, urging him to surge to his feet. Determination filled his heart.
It’s high time I started fighting for her.
…
Lily clutched her bag. Shit, she was running late. She’d spent the day sending out resumes and scheduling interviews at bigger, coveted salons where she’d love to work. Then, Nico texted her and asked her to come to his office. Then, another message from Nico told her about a change of plans. She must go to her salon ASAP because he had some issues he needed to discuss, important setbacks that could halt the negotiations.
Whatever. Who cared, if they were going to demolish the place anyway? By the time she arrived, most of the businesses around her were either quieter than usual or already closed. Some of them had asked for a grace period after selling to Nico, while others were already operating elsewhere.
She reached for her bag to retrieve her keys and open the glass door, then she noticed the door was opened a notch. What? Did Nico let himself in, and maybe wanted to prove a point about low security? Still didn’t make sense, though. Even if he had found big foundation problems with the area, it wouldn’t matter if they planned do away with the strip mall completely.
Sighing, she walked in. Dozens of small, lit candles were scattered everywhere…on the shelves, on her counter, on the floor. The scent of lilies inundated the place, and she noticed several vases of flowers embellishing the space, blending with the fragrance of the candles. What the hell? Did Nico think he could just seduce her since his brother was out of the picture?
“Nico?”
The door to the supply room opened. “Marco?” she called.
Marco walked up to her in silence, so focused. His hair had been freshly washed and his face shaven, but she didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes. Had he been as miserable as she? “Why did you decide to sell the shop?” he asked.
She switched her weight from foot to foot. Why did he care? Yet, he had come to see her, so maybe her selling it impacted him in a greater way. Or, he was just thanking her with the flowers? He could have had someone send those to her. Money didn’t mean much to him. She tried to tell herself not to expect much from him. That didn’t ease the throbbing at the base of her throat.
“It didn’t seem right to keep it. Before our trip, our deal, I wanted to save the salon at all costs. Then, after you left me that way, it dawned on me that if I had to do so much to keep the salon, then maybe I should use it as a lesson in letting go.”
“You don’t have to let go. I told my brother I’ll raise hell if he buys it from you.”
She clamped her lips. She could take advantage of his generosity, but the idea of creating brand new memories seduced her. Saying goodbye to the place that had made her childhood and young life so happy wouldn’t be easy, but she needed to face reality. She wasn’t a savvy businesswoman. She was a talented hairdresser who would love to have more time to learn her craft without worrying about financial overheads. “That’s my decision. Not yours.”
“True. I just needed to make sure the decision has been yours all along, and no one convinced you to sell it.”
She clapped her hands together. “Well, now you know it. Your conscience is clear. What are you doing here anyway?”
“I’m here for you, Lily.”
She shook her head, confused. Did he mean he wanted them to be friends? She wasn’t ready to be buddies with him—she never would be. “You made it clear there’s no place in your life for me, that I’d be better off without you.”
“You see, maybe I was right. You can be better off without me, but I’m no good without you. I’ve fallen for you, and it took me long enough to understand that feeling made me stronger, not weaker.”
Did he just say he loves me? Her head spun, and she clutched the back of the chair for support. “What makes you think I’ll believe you? Or you won’t change your mind tomorrow?” she asked, proud of herself for giving him a hard time when instinct willed her in his arms.
“I won’t change my mind.” He took a velvety box from his pocket and opened it to her. “I’m offering you a different contract, with a lifetime of commitment.”
She glanced at the diamond ring sparkling in the box. She’d returned the engagement ring he bought her in Italy and the necklace his grandmother gave her via courier, but this was a different one. “Why another one?”
“Because there is nothing false about what I’m proposing. From the beginning, everything needs to be new and honest.”
She worried her bottom lip. A strand of excitement moved through her. Was this really happening after all? He loved her…and wanted to be with her forever. “Will it include hot sex?”
“Daily. Some days, hourly. It’ll also include partnership, friendship, and lots of sharing.”
“When you put it like that.”
“I don’t deserve your love, but I’ll do everything in my power to earn it. I’ll fight for it with everything I’ve got.”
“How about starting right now?”
He kissed her, and for minutes their mouths worked together, their tongues stroking each other with reckless abandon. Oh, how she’d missed him… She plastered her body to his, and she caught a whiff of his manly scent—a scent she’d inhale, now, every day of her life.
He pulled her into the supply room and closed the door behind him. She chuckled. A few of the products she hadn’t boxed fell to the floor, but she didn’t care. She linked her arms around his neck, and he lifted her legs so she wrapped them around his torso.
“I told you once I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over you,” he said, placing her above the sink. She fumbled to open the buttons of his shirt, settling for yanking it open, the buttons flying in the air. “I want to get inside you, on top of you, under you, but never, ever, over you.”
She snatched him closer and lifted her head to lock their lips. The familiar need that came whenever she was around him poked at her, her insides burning for him. A moan made its way up her throat, but he swallowed it, their craving for each other only letting them catch their breath every so often.
Marco disengaged the kiss to stare deep in her eyes. Heat coiled at the pit of her stomach, but also a much more permanent feeling—happiness. “I love you, Lily Jenkins.”
“I love you, too, Marco,” she said, knowing he was the one thing she’d never let go.
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