Chapter Sixteen
Jordana was reminded that their time was almost up when she opened her email. It came knocking on their twenty-seventh day together.
She woke up late. Lonzo was nowhere to be found but she knew he must’ve taken his morning swim. After a quick shower, she put on a summer dress over her swim suit, intending to follow him at the beach. When she took her beach tote from the table, she accidentally knocked off her tablet and it landed with a thud on the floor. She stood there looking at it for a moment. Along with her smartphone, she avoided switching it on for weeks.
Well, no way to avoid it now so it seemed. She had to check if it was still working. She picked it up from the floor and pressed the power button. The screen showed no indication of damage. She could’ve just left it at that.
Oh, what the heck! She said to herself, mentally rolling her eyes. She connected to the internet and in a matter of seconds, the gadget notified her that she had two hundred new email messages in her inbox.
She sifted through her email account. Most of it came from Leandro and Francesca, while three were sent by Mel. She opened Mel’s first, smiling as she viewed her friend’s pictures with her new husband honeymooning in the mountains high up in the Andes.
She closed the messages without replying yet. Maybe later…when she was more composed.
She stared at the screen and took in the number of messages from Leandro and her booker. She was reluctant to open their emails and be reminded that she had to return to work and the world she left behind in a three days’ time.
She bit her lip before deciding to open the most recent one from Francesca while ignoring Leandro’s. She couldn’t handle a scolding one from her friend at the moment.
As expected, Francesca didn’t pussy-foot around.
Hi dearest,
I tried calling you but I can’t reach you because you diverted your calls to your voicemail. I get it. You don’t want to be disturbed. Well, Leandro is pestering me for weeks. Seems you blocked his calls too. And before you accuse me of giving in to his charms, no, I didn’t spill the beans on where you were, or with whom you’re with. I swear on the life of my puppies, it wasn’t me. He knows your dirty secret, darling. The papz got a snapshot of you and your hunky billionaire looking all-too-cozy at the beach. Nice view, by the way. Where in Italy is that? I’m gonna include that in my itinerary next time I’m on vacay.
Anyway…now, I need you in three days’ time. I can’t hold the fort indefinitely. The clients are threatening to sue the agency and that’s not good for business, darling. I’ve got puppy mouths to feed. Time to get your ass back here, sweetie. Just give me a call when you’re in the Big Apple.
Until then, I wish you peace, love and health. Blah, Blah blah... screw that! I wish you lots of sex, booze, orgasms and hope you can wring a proposal out of that hot, lickalicious Italian stud of yours!
XOXO,
Francesca :)
Jordana blinked before expelling a deep sigh.
Three days.
The thought of walking away from him gutted her.
She finally admitted to herself the reason why it was so.
She had fallen in love.
At the onset of their agreement, she had convinced herself she was merely making the best out of a bad situation. She thought she can stick to the plan. She can deal with it.
She told herself she wouldn’t fall or allow him to get close. But he was good at breaking down walls. The fortress she had around her heart never stood a chance. He had her dreaming of them walking into the sunset together. Stupid, reckless heart.
They’d been happy since they got on the island. When not entwined in bed, they did activities that regular ‘couples’ would do—they swam, fished, took long walks along the sandbar or just plain talked about everything under the sun.
When he chose to, Lonzo was the most gifted conversationalist she had ever met. His wit was always on point. He could discuss tough issues or irreverent topics and blast it into outer space. Or maybe she was just plain biased. He could say anything and she’d still love the sound of his voice.
He was also a great listener. He had her pouring her life history in no time. Well, at least the pleasant parts.
Their time together was so magical that she could almost imagine she was on her honeymoon like Mel and Rocco. Well…almost. Until she remembered how head-over-heels in love their individual bestfriends were. She had none of that.
Lonzo would often verbalize his need for her physically but beyond that…nothing.
She tried to mask her disappointment by reminding herself about the very nature of their affair. That she should manage her expectations. But it hurt no matter how hard she tried to convince herself she was content.
She was in love with someone who never believed or would reciprocate her affection.
She finally understood why love was so life defining, how it can be both the most beautiful and potentially the most painful of experiences.
Nothing would come out of this, she would tell herself. She should bolt before it was too late—before she dug a hole she couldn’t climb out of.
But a part of her would hold back and cannot bear to cut ties.
That part of her being that resonated with the little boy in the photograph—the young Lonzo who yearned for his mother’s love.
That hopeful, if naive girl who believed in fairy tales despite the heartaches and life’s losses.
There had been signs which indicated that their liaison had transformed into something deeper than sex.
She had seen the way he looked at her while they made love. He had been extra attentive to her. Almost tender.
It may be emotional crumbs but she loved him enough to hope and not give up. At least not yet.
Surely he would realize that what they had was special and worth considering?
She took a long deep breath. She’d know in three days’ time.
She absently kept staring at the tablet. And then the date on the gadget registered.
She smiled as the idea formed inside her mind, glad to do something that will take her mind off things. She took her phone from the bedside table and dialed a number from her contacts.
“Penelope? Hi there…how are you? It’s Jordana. That’s good to know. I’m fine. Hey, I called because I remembered you collect vintage toys. No, it’s not for me. Do you have vintage locomotive sets? You do?! Perfect—” she went on as she made arrangements.
Celebrating his birthday was never a good time for Lonzo. It brought all the unpleasantness of his childhood to rise to the surface.
But that wasn’t the entire reason for his dark mood. It was their last day on the island. Tomorrow, they would be picked up by his yacht.
He went for a long walk before he went for a swim. He pushed against the waves, angrily slicing the water to shake off the uneasiness and figure out what to do next. It was no use.
He knew why.
Jordana.
He knew the provisos of this arrangement. He had thought of everything—including his parting gift—an expensive diamond necklace he ordered from Harry Winston.
He should be glad. He should be celebrating. He got what he wanted, on his terms. He had indulged for a month and was about to get his hands on the shares that his uncle held.
That was all that mattered to him, wasn’t it?
This was supposed to be a clean break. He had done it countless of times with different women.
How come he felt all fucked up…like he was about to lose a limb?
Was he losing his touch? Becoming a pussy like Rocco?
Fuck. No way! He would never allow that to happen.
He didn’t do romance and all that shit.
Jordana got under his skin and wormed her way inside his head. But that would stop now. He would soon forget her. She just caught him in a weak moment. Time to get back to his old life and slip back into his former skin. He had his fun and now, back to business.
He vaulted back to the villa.
As soon as he stepped inside and smelled the delicious aroma of his favorite dish, he knew that she’d been busy in the kitchen in his absence.
She cooked lunch and from the looks of it, she asked around for his favorite Tuscan dishes.
She beamed when she saw him.
Fuck it, things were about to get messy.
“I made cacciucco. Thio said—”
“I’m going out,” he abruptly interrupted.
He steeled himself and ignored her crestfallen expression. His chest tightened. He knew he was being a mean bastard. Someone had to play devil in this situation.
The air grew heavy with tension.
“How about dessert? I made panna cotta,” she continued, trying to salvage the situation.
“No dessert. I’m going out, remember?”
“But it’s your birthday—”
“So?”
Her amber eyes searched his face for the source of his sudden animosity. But he had mastered this game. She saw only the emotionless mask he had on.
Those eyes said it all. What she wanted him to say out loud. That this wasn’t the end.
But he could never utter the words. Not in this lifetime. Not for any woman.
Silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity. He saw her valiantly fight to contain her emotions, saw how she failed to put a leash on her feelings. Saw her beautiful eyes dim.
She was withdrawing, back into her shell.
“Why are you being like this?”
“What?”
“Explain this.”
“No.”
This time around, her eyes flashed in with unrestrained anger.
“Yes! Because I spent an entire month in your bed. I think I more than earned it! So spit it out, Lonzo!” she threw at him, furious.
“There’s nothing to explain, Jordana. Time’s up. We’re leaving the island as scheduled.” His voice came out as cold. Devoid of feeling.
“So that’s it?!” Her voice cracked noticeably.
No it’s not! he wanted to say. “Would you rather hear lies?”
“Surely these past two weeks must’ve meant something to you—” she said, rapidly blinking away tears.
“It did. We had fun times. Now, it has come to an end.”
She looked as if he’d just slapped her hard. “Fun? We’re having fun?”
“What do you want me to say? That you’re the greatest fuck I ever had? It’s not my fault if you misread things, cara.” he reminded her sharply.
She held her chin up high and breathed in deep.
“So this is the end?” her voice trembled.
What the fuck are you doing, you prick? Jordana is different, a voice inside him bellowed.
Different? How is she any different from his mother and the countless number of women who had waltzed in and out of his life? They all wanted something he isn’t prepared to give.
Permanent relationships had no place in his life.
He gave her a hard stare.
“Yes.”
Her amber orbs glistened at his announcement. She stared up at the ceiling to prevent the tears from spilling.
You truly are a motherfucker, the same voice supplied. Have a great life ahead.
Don’t you dare cry in front of him!
“You’re the one who insisted that this will be for a month only.”
“I thought—”
Oh God, shut up! Shut up now! Don’t humiliate yourself further!
“Obviously, you thought wrong.”
“You held my hand…we talked…all of that was…you played me the entire time,” her voice trailed.
“I was being social.”
“I trusted you.”
“What makes you think I will ever trust someone like you? A woman who thinks losing her virginity is a career move?” he sneered.
“It wasn’t!”
“So you say. But your actions speak differently. You were the one who went running to the biggest tabloid on the planet, not me.”
“I did not...damn you! I never did anything you accuse me of!” she shot back in outrage.
He walked toward her to grab and grip her shoulders hard.
“Let me warn you this time, Jordana. Rat this to the rag mags again and you’ll wish you’ve never been born. I’ll go after Bastian first. By the time I’m done with him, no one will consider him even for a menial job. Then I’ll destroy you.”
He issued the threat so easily, his eyes remote and cold. Who was this man? How could she just stand this? How could she allow him to destroy her mercilessly for imagined wrongdoings? She was innocent! Where was her pride?
“I. Hate. You,” she spewed.
“Good,” he said coolly. “I’m more used to hate, cara. So you’re welcome to loathe and vilify me.”
“I thought you were a better man than this. That you were worth loving.”
He grinned. “I knew it. Ah, cara. You disappoint me. For a while you had me thinking you wouldn’t pull out the guilt card.”
“You bastard!”
“What’s next? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me.”
She couldn’t form a reply. The breath got sucked out of her.
“I told you from the beginning. I don’t want your love. I will not love you back. Don’t turn the waterworks and blame me. What we had was very good sex. Spectacular sex. But it’s just that. Sex.”
It was the last straw. How dare he mock her love like it was nothing?
Pride and self-respect fueled her to pick up the pieces of her mangled heart.
You will walk away from this with your head held up high. You shall not grovel, her brain finally took control after her heart failed miserably.
She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. “Believe what you want to believe. I won’t waste my breath for appeals. They were right. You don’t have a heart. I pity your next woman, Lonzo. I really do.”
He didn’t respond.
She looked pointedly at the hands holding her. “I’ll have to go pack my stuff. Take your hands off me.”
He dropped his hold. “Fine! Go!”
She slowly turned away from him.
He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her pain.
Years spent walking on runways became useful. Her legs were steady, her stride confident. She deserved a pat on the back. It was the most difficult walk she had ever done.
Her legs lost their strength when she reached the masters bedroom. She stumbled her way inside the bathroom, where her legs finally gave out. She was a tangled mess on the floor. She blindly grasped at one of the towels from the rail. She buried her face in it, hoping it concealed the tears and sobs.
Another panic attack hovered, but she fought it with everything left in her.
I will not break down. I’m stronger than this, she repeated over and over.
She didn’t know how long she stayed huddled on the floor.
It seemed like forever.
Her eyes hurt really bad. Like she shed blood instead of tears.
She pulled herself up slowly and took a long, cold shower. As her tears mixed with the water that poured out from the shower head, she felt drained and empty.
When she finished, she stepped out of bathroom and sat on the bed, not bothering to cover up. She shivered. But she welcomed it—the numbness that came with the cold.
Afterward, she packed her things and booked her return ticket online.
She didn’t leave the room. She heard him knock at the door. She didn’t answer and continued packing her stuff. She did not go out to eat dinner. The idea of sharing another meal with him was revolting.
She climbed the bed and the tears began flowing as soon as her head touched the pillow. Her tears were silent this time as she blankly stared at the ceiling.
It was already midnight when she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Lonzo called in for a chopper pick up instead of the yacht the following morning.
They did not exchange a word since their confrontation yesterday.
He instructed the pilot to drop them off in Rome instead of Montalcino. They stopped once to refuel.
She was relieved, in a way. She was a little worried at the idea of saying goodbye to Thio Fredo. She didn’t want to add any more to the lies.
Silence ensued as they made their way to Rome. She ignored him completely, preferring to look down at the panoramic view below than look at the man seated beside her.
A black Maybach was waiting for them when they arrived.
“The airport, Signore,” she instructed the chauffeur when he took her luggage. Lonzo’s head snapped toward her direction but he maintained his silence.
She endured another fifteen minutes of tense ride. But this would be the last time she’d ever share the same space with Lonzo Vitale.
When they reached the airport, he finally broke his silence.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. Don’t make me the bad guy here, Jordana.”
His derisive voice grated.
She gave him a cold stare as she was opening the passenger door.
“Shut up, Vitale. I know you have a big dick but your ego puts it to shame. Really. Me? Trying to guilt you? You have to have a conscience to do that. You don’t have one, remember?”
His hand snaked out to hold her from leaving the car. “Then don’t act like a victim. You agreed to this deal.”
“I really don’t care anymore, Vitale. Go rot in hell. Let go of my arm. I have a plane to catch.”
His astounded expression at her vicious retort was a balm to her tattered insides.
That's right, Vitale. Contempt will be the only emotion you'd ever get from me.
When she got out of the car, the chauffeur offered to carry her bags but she declined with a stiff smile. She needed to hold something to hide the tremor of her fingers. Or heck, if she heard one more insult, one of her bags would hit his head like a ballistic missile...
Without a backward glance, she walked briskly toward the entrance of the airport. She almost jumped when she saw that Lonzo followed her. An airport security guy approached him but he was instantly recognized. Even here, Lonzo had a lot of clout, she thought.
She frowned.
People were beginning to recognize them. Several anticipated drama in the works and began filming using their cellphones.
You guys are in for a disappointment.
After checking in her bags, she continued to ignore him and proceeded to the passenger lounge.
He followed and sat down beside her, close enough that she could smell his favorite aftershave which she quietly loved to inhale off him every time he was within reach.
What a difference a day made. They might be sitting beside each other but they were thousands of miles apart.
What the heck does he want now?!
“Jordana—” he began when her phone rang. She had switched it on while in the car.
Leandro was calling and she was quick to answer the call and pay no heed to Lonzo.
“Hi, Leandro—”
Lonzo’s head snapped up when he heard her mention her friend’s name.
“Where are you?” Leandro’s angry voice cut through.
“I’m still in Italy. But not for long.”
“What the fuck were you thinking, Dana?”
“I honestly don’t know the answer to that.”
Her offhand answer made Leandro pause on the other line.
“You okay?” his voice was laced with worry.
She sighed and bit her lip, as painful emotions coursed through her. She managed to fight it down.
“Yeah. I’m fine, Leandro. Don’t worry about me. I’m coming home.”
She heard him angrily swearing in their native tongue.
“You better arrive here in one piece or I’m gonna kill that bastard—”
“No need to do that. I’m…alright. Totally not worth it. And I’m a big girl, I can handle this. I’ll talk to you when I get back.” She cut the call short, not waiting for her manager’s reply.
She was too aware of Lonzo’s presence and that he heard every word.
She was rescued from dealing with him when the airport’s public address system announced that her flight was ready for boarding. Grabbing her sling bag, she stood up to leave when he grabbed her free hand and halted her departure.
She glanced at their entwined hands and remembered how she foolishly thought he’d be it for her. The one who would be there to always hold her hand when the going got tough or when she was having a bad day.
Funny how his touch burned her skin like acid now.
“Getting touchy again?” she mocked.
“Not a word will come out in print,” he commanded.
She met his eyes steadily before she jerked her hand from his grasp.
“No one took me to court for breach of contract. I don’t intend to start now.”
“Good.”
There was no remorse in those green orbs as he held her stare. The bastard’s face was devoid of emotion.
She won’t allow him to have the last say in this!
“Oh, one more thing, Vitale…fuck you and your billions,” she said in Portuguese as she made for the boarding area.
The cabin crew smiled as she took her seat.
She was flying first class this time. Even then, she still got several looks from some of the passengers in the cabin but she was so weary from hurting this much.
She closed her eyes.
So this is what heartbreak feels like, she told herself as the plane took off.