After three days passed and I didn’t see or hear from Antonio, the fear passed. I had been afraid he would stop by and ask me out, but he never did, to my fortune. Maybe the cold way I turned away and walked into my apartment was a clear sign I wasn’t interested.

I hoped I wouldn’t see him, at least for a few months.

It’d only been two months since Bones and I broke up. It felt too soon to be with someone else.

It was too soon.

Bones had probably been with other women already, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t a competition, and I knew they didn’t mean anything to him anyway.

Antonio already meant something to me. When he painted such a beautiful piece of art that was in my home, it was impossible for him not to have significance to me.

Once the danger passed, I returned to working in my gallery in peace. My life was pretty boring, just work, painting, and staying inside my apartment. I cooked all my meals and never went out, preferring the sanctuary of my apartment. I started to gain some weight back because I was eating normally again, but I still wasn’t back to my normal form.

I was downstairs in the gallery taking a picture of a new painting when the door opened and someone came inside. I set down my phone and turned to my new customer, expecting another tourist who wanted a beautiful souvenir to take home. Instead, I came face-to-face with my father. “Father?”

He was in black jeans and a gray t-shirt, an affectionate smile on his lips. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by.” He circled his strong arms around me and placed a kiss on my forehead.

It was nice having this relationship again, to feel happy when I saw my father. I missed his affection, missed how natural things felt between us. “You were not.” I pulled away, grinning. “You just stopped by to check on me.”

He didn’t deny it. “How are you, tesoro?”

“I’m okay.” A part of me wanted to lie and say I’d never been better, but that lie was too easy to spot. I’d stopped crying all the time, so that was progress. But I didn’t mention that to him. “What about you?”

“Good. The house is quiet now that the wedding is over.”

“How’s Conway?”

He shrugged. “Not sure.”

“You haven’t spoken to him?” I asked in surprise. Father constantly kept tabs on both of us.

He shook his head. “I’m not calling my son when he’s on his honeymoon. We’ll talk when he gets back.” He turned his gaze to the painting I was photographing. “This is nice.”

“Thanks. I have a client who lives in New York. He asked me to take pictures of my new inventory when it comes in. I’ve started a mailing list, and I’m surprised how many paintings I sell that way.”

“That’s great, Vanessa.” He kept looking at the painting. “I’m very happy to hear that.” Sincerity was in his voice, along with fatherly pride.

“Thanks.”

“Do you have some time for coffee or lunch?”

I had stuff to do, but my father had come all the way out here, and I wouldn’t blow him off. “Yeah. Just let me finish with these pictures so I can send them off. With the time difference—”

“I’ve got all the time in the world, tesoro. Take your time.” He drifted away to the other side of the gallery, stopping in front of my painting and examining it with his back turned to me.

I picked up my phone again and resumed the pictures, getting a few good ones with the natural light. Less than a minute later, the front door opened again. I had a few customers throughout the day, but most of them came in after lunchtime. I put my phone in my back pocket and turned around to welcome a prospective client.

But I came face-to-face with Antonio instead.

Shit.

He didn’t wear that charming smile he usually had. His eyes were exactly the same as the last time I saw him, focused on me like I was a target he wouldn’t allow to escape. In a buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark jeans, he looked as handsome as every other time I saw him.

I thought this moment had passed, but I guess it hadn’t.

He stopped when he came close to me, and then he stared.

I stared back.

I hated this. I hated this obvious connection. It was impossible to stare at someone like this without it being hostile, but somehow, we made it intimate…when we didn’t even know each other. I had the same connection with Bones, and I never wanted to have it with someone else.

But I did.

After a long bout of silence, Antonio spoke. “Have dinner with me.” He cut right to the chase, bypassing all the small talk since it seemed pointless. His arms rested by his sides and he kept a few feet between us, but that didn’t seem like enough distance. It seemed like we were pressed right up against each other, our lips almost touching.

I stared at him without breathing, unsure how to respond. He didn’t even ask me a question, just told me what to do. It didn’t seem like he was giving me a choice in the matter. If I’d met this man a year ago, this situation would have unfolded differently. I wouldn’t have waited three days to ask him out. I would have asked him then and there. But that wasn’t what happened, and I was still in love with the man I’d lost. “I can’t.”

Antonio didn’t react to my rejection. “Why?”

My father was hovering nearby, listening to every word of this conversation. It was bad timing. I didn’t know how to answer Antonio without boring him with my life story. I didn’t want to get into the details of my heartbreak, not when it still brought me to tears. “I’m not dating right now.”

He hadn’t blinked once since this conversation began. His stillness suggested he wasn’t going anywhere, not until he got what he wanted. “Then I’ll wait until you are dating.”

I did my best to control my reaction, but I couldn’t. Surprise stretched across my face.

“Have coffee with me. As friends.”

Even that was too intimate for me, not when I felt this throbbing heat between us. “I can’t…I’m sorry.” I was the first one to break eye contact, the first one to flinch at the power radiating between us both. My heart was still full of one man, full of the love we shared. Even if we weren’t together and we never would be again, Bones was the only man I wanted. To even try to be with someone else right now was futile. And it wouldn’t be fair to Antonio, who would have to compete with a man he could never defeat. “It’s not gonna happen. You should go…”

He stayed put, his eyes slightly shifting back and forth between mine. He hadn’t moved since he’d stopped in front of me. His eyes sped across the surface of my face, flying by at a high velocity. He seemed to be thinking about his next words carefully, how to navigate the intense subject he’d just broached. He probably thought asking me out was going to be simple, just the way it was with all the other woman he picked up and took to bed. He was handsome, artistic, charming, sexy…everything. He never had to lift a finger to get a woman. He never could have anticipated this kind of rejection.

Instead of saying anything else, he turned around and walked out of my gallery. But his silent departure wasn’t full of finality. I knew this conversation wasn’t over. It was simply paused for the time being.

He would be back.

Father and I went to the bakery down the road, the very one I painted.

He got a black coffee and a salad, and I got a cappuccino and a sandwich.

Even though Father heard every word of that conversation, he didn’t mention it to me. He sat across from me at the table and sipped his coffee, his eyes directed out the window most of the time.

It was awkward between us since we were both thinking about the same thing at the exact same time. If Antonio had known my father was there, he would have chosen a better time to make his move.

We made small talk about Mama and Conway, but that conversation ran out quickly. Neither one of us participated in the discussion much because our thoughts kept returning to the man who asked me out in the gallery.

Father must have been waiting for me to bring it up, and when I didn’t, his patience waned. “Who was the young man?”

I looked down at my cappuccino, seeing the same shade of warm brown in the coffee as I did in Antonio’s eyes. “His name is Antonio Tassone. He has a gallery a few blocks down the road. He’s an artist as well.”

Father drank his coffee, his eyes turning to me. “He paints?”

I nodded.

He didn’t ask anything else, hoping I would say more on my own.

“It’s a bit ironic…he came into the gallery and bought one of my paintings. About a week later, I went into his gallery and bought one of his…but neither one of us knew they were paintings we’d made. Neither one of us knew we were artists.”

He gripped his coffee mug with his fingers. “That’s an interesting coincidence.”

“Yeah…it is.”

“He’s a good-looking young man.”

I tried not to smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything like that in my life.”

“What?”

“Call a man good-looking.”

“I’m just saying…” He looked into his coffee and took a drink.

“I’m guessing that’s your way of telling me you like him.”

He looked out the window and shrugged. “I liked what I saw.”

“You don’t know anything about him. I don’t even know anything about him…”

“But I liked the way he approached you. He was confident, taking control of the conversation and saying what he wanted. When you resisted, he didn’t press you. Not only did he not press you, but he said he would wait. He sounds like a gentleman, Vanessa. But a gentleman who’s also strong, authoritative, and confident. The fact that you’re both artists who enjoy each other’s work indicates you’re compatible, have a lot in common…and understand one another. Honestly, I don’t see a single issue with this man.”

“The issue isn’t him…and we both know that.” I dropped my gaze, unable to look him in the eye once I mentioned Bones.

“Nothing wrong with getting to know someone new.”

I didn’t want to get to know someone new. “I’m not ready.”

“It’s been—”

“I’m not ready,” I repeated.

My father turned silent.

“I love Griffin as much as I did before. I miss him every day. Getting to know Antonio wouldn’t be fair to Antonio. He shouldn’t date a woman who’s still in love with her ex. And I don’t want to force myself to move on from Griffin if I’m not really there. I don’t want to rush this. If I rush it, it’ll just make it worse.”

My father gave a slight nod. “I didn’t mean to press you, tesoro. I just thought Antonio was a nice young man.”

“I’m sure he is…”

Father rested his hand on mine on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Father. I’m sorry that happened when you were there.”

He pulled his hand away. “It’s a little strange to listen to a man ask out your daughter, but I’ve come to realize you’re a grown woman. You’re at the time of your life when you’re looking to settle down. That’s exactly what you should be doing…looking for someone. And I hope you find a great man, a man who loves your artwork as much as you. Because your artwork is a pathway to your soul, and if he understands that…then he understands you.”