Chapter Eleven

“Hey, Dante! I’m not used to seeing you here at this time of the day. Don’t tell me the Italian Stallion is losing his touch with the ladies and doesn’t have a hot date tonight, ‘cause I won’t believe it.”

Dante grinned at the approach of Finn Cassidy, one of the regulars here at the gym he’d belonged to for several years now. Finn was a friendly, talkative guy, and had always been eager to hear details about Dante’s latest conquest. Though during the months he’d dated Katie, it had been rare for him to share any specifics. Their relationship had been private, special. At least, he’d thought of it that way even if Katie apparently hadn’t.

“Hey, Finn. How’s it going?” greeted Dante, setting aside the dumbbell he’d been using to do bicep curls. He vastly preferred using free weights and barbells to the wide array of machines that the gym offered. “And believe it, man, because the only date I have tonight is with the leftover manicotti I brought home from my grandmother’s last night.”

Finn, who was on the short side, with dark auburn hair and the build of a marathon runner, shook his head. “Nah. I don’t believe you for a minute. You must have some gorgeous babe waiting back at your place to share that manicotti with you.”

“Nope. No one waiting for me, I swear. I don’t have a date until Friday night, actually.”

Finn arched a brow in disbelief. “Four whole nights without a date? Is that some sort of record for you?”

Dante chuckled. “Not even close. After Katie and I - well, split up - I didn’t see anyone for over two months, took the breakup pretty hard.”

“Yeah, she was something special, that’s for sure. I can understand how it would be tough to get over a woman like Katie,” commiserated Finn.

“The one that got away,” mused Dante, as though talking to himself.

Finn, who was perpetually cheerful, clapped Dante on the shoulder. “Well, sounds like you found yourself someone new. And I’d be willing to bet that she’s gorgeous, just like every other woman you’ve ever dated was. Is she another hot blonde like Katie?”

“No.” Dante’s denial was emphatic. “She’s nothing like Katie in any way. And it’s completely casual, nothing serious at all. Just hanging out, having some fun together, that sort of thing. I’m not ready to have an actual relationship right now, maybe not for a long time yet.”

“I don’t blame you, man. Hey, if I had the sort of luck with the ladies that you seem to have, I don’t think I’d ever want to settle down. You’ve got the right attitude, Dante - have fun, keep it casual, and don’t get emotionally attached. That’s probably the sort of arrangement most single guys dream of, you know?”

Finn chattered on for a few more minutes, until Dante began a set of military presses and could only grunt in response to his questions. Finn took the hint after that and headed off, leaving Dante in peace to finish his workout.

But their conversation caused Dante to reflect on what his daily routine was like these days, and he realized with something of a surprise that he liked his life right now - liked it a lot, in fact. Not having to be accountable to a steady girlfriend on a regular basis meant that he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. He could work as late as he needed to without having to worry about dashing off to meet a date; he could hit the gym for an hour or two, much like he was doing now, and not have to explain himself; if a friend or client called at the last minute saying they had tickets to that evening’s baseball game or a concert, he was free to accompany them. And if he had no plans at all, no place to be, he could look forward to an evening of blissful solitude at his condo where he could eat whatever he wanted for dinner, watch his choice of sporting event, movie, or other program on the TV, or simply read a book or listen to music.

When Friday night rolled around, he would meet up with Cara, usually in the lobby of his office building, and take her out to dinner. She was always good company, always cheerful and upbeat, and never, ever complained about how her day had gone, or whether or not she liked her food, or whined that he hadn’t called her all week. She was easy to be around, never made demands, and it was definitely the most uncomplicated relationship he’d ever had.

And the sex, of course, had proven to be something really spectacular with her, a fact that continued to surprise him. Cara was both eager and passionate, a quick learner and an avid pupil. She was affectionate, tender, and responsive, and Dante couldn’t recall a time when a lover had ever made him feel quite so much like a man.

Cara had also fully complied with his initial directives about what he wanted from whatever sort of relationship this had evolved into. She made no demands of him, never threw out hints that she wanted more than he was willing to give, and didn’t play silly emotional games with him. What you saw with Cara was definitely what you got, he thought with a smile. She was so honest and natural and maybe even a little bit goofy that he didn’t think she had it in her to engage in the sort of coy little games that most women of his acquaintance were so fond of playing.

She rarely contacted him, unless it was to send him a quick text apologizing for running five minutes late, or an email to ask if there was anything special he wanted for dinner on Saturday. That in itself was a rarity for Dante, for he was used to the women he’d dated in the past wanting to be in daily contact with him, either via text, phone call, email, or sometimes all three. He appreciated the fact that Cara respected the boundaries they had set, that she was neither needy nor clingy, and seemed - at least outwardly - to be content with what to him was a very satisfactory arrangement.

And despite his protests to the contrary, she still insisted on cooking him dinner on Saturday nights. He continued to be amazed at what a good cook she was, and the variety of dishes she was able to concoct using just a cooktop, electric frying pan, and a microwave. He found that he liked the way she fussed over him, that she didn’t take it for granted that he should always be the one to provide dinner.

But what did bother him, very much so, was how hard she pushed herself, as well as the rather obvious near-poverty she lived in. By Friday evening, after a full week of working long hours, attending summer school classes four nights a week, and studying, Cara’s exhaustion was visible. He found himself hating the fact that she had to work so hard to support herself, and continued to curse out her piece of shit father for basically abandoning her.

Dante wanted more than anything to help her out, to make her life easier, but he had learned early on that she was very stubbornly opposed to accepting what in her mind was charity or a handout. He had tentatively offered to loan her money once, and she had been so adamant in her refusal that he hadn’t dared to broach the subject again. It had probably been the only time, in fact, since he’d known Cara that she had exhibited a flare of temper.

And he couldn’t help but be aware that she had a very limited wardrobe, particularly since she seemed to wear the same few dresses each time he took her out to dinner. The Saturdays he spent at her place were casual, laidback affairs, where neither of them dressed up, but he was pretty sure that she only owned one pair of jeans that she paired with a scant handful of different tops.

The thought had occurred to him more than once that if she wouldn’t outright accept money from him then maybe she would at least let him buy her some clothes. After all, Katie had regularly dragged him along on her shopping sprees, and had looked at him expectantly when it had been time to pay the cashier. And he had certainly bought gifts for other women he’d dated over the years, usually a piece of jewelry but occasionally an expensive purse or couture lingerie.

But thus far he hadn’t made an attempt to buy Cara anything, mostly because he was certain she’d refuse any sort of gift, but also due to the fact that he didn’t want to hurt her feelings or insult her by implying that her wardrobe left a lot to be desired. Still, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to resist the urge to take her out shopping for clothes or to surprise her with a new dress and pair of shoes on occasion.

She did accept - somewhat grudgingly - the things he contributed to their weekly dinners at her place - a good bottle of wine, a loaf of artisan bread, some sort of delectable dessert. He figured, though, that she gave in gracefully more for his sake than for hers, knowing that he had expensive tastes, and that she wouldn’t be able to afford the sort of wine he preferred to drink. And it troubled him each time she cooked that she was spending her meagre funds to buy food for him. But the only way around that issue would have involved bringing a takeout or a pre-prepared meal to her place - something she would have balked at - or inviting her over to his condo, where he could make sure he had all the ingredients she would need to fix a meal.

But that, of course, would cross the boundaries he had erected when he’d first starting seeing Cara. Bringing her to his condo - something that he had really only done with Katie - would signal a level of intimacy and commitment that he just wasn’t ready to buy into. And that, he thought with a grimace, was something of a damned shame because he really, really hated that tiny, musty little hovel that Cara called home. And if it was up to him he would have carted that crappy futon off to the dumps and bought her a real bed - one that he knew would hold up to the intensity of their twice-weekly sexual encounters. As it stood right now, Dante kept expecting the rather decrepit futon to shatter into pieces whenever they got a little too enthusiastic with their fucking. So far, so good, he thought darkly, but it was surely a matter of time before that thing collapsed beneath them.

He finished his workout, took a quick shower, then made the five block drive to his condo. He’d been craving a good steak as of late, so he ordered one along with several side dishes from the best steakhouse in the city - a place that typically didn’t deliver, but made exceptions for customers like Dante, ones who frequently entertained clients and dropped big bucks at the restaurant.

While he waited for his food to be delivered, he exchanged his usual nightly texts, emails, and phone calls with his mother, brother, and sisters, even though he’d just seen most of them yesterday up in Healdsburg. Rafe wasn’t quite as diligent about visiting the family as Dante was, but managed to make it up there at least once a month. Talia and her husband Tony, who were expecting their first child this fall, lived in Santa Rosa, less than a half hour’s drive from Healdsburg. Only Gia, the youngest, had spread her wings and flown the coop, choosing to accept a job in Denver after graduating from college, much to their grandmother’s chagrin.

Gia had a stubborn, independent streak a mile long, thought Dante in amusement. In that regard his baby sister reminded him of Cara. The major difference between the two women, of course, was that Gia had never had to struggle to come up with money for college tuition or the rent, had never known what it was to go without much of anything, including the love and support of her family. Whereas Cara was basically all alone in the world, since she couldn’t count on her dipshit father for anything.

His family would adore her, he mused as he fixed himself a drink. She would fit in as though she’d been born to the Sabattini name, would adore the weekly family dinners, or the never-ending round of baptisms, weddings, and graduations, would love the wonderful holiday celebrations. It would be so easy, so natural, to bring someone like Cara home to meet his mother and grandmother, and he would never have to worry about her enjoying herself because he already knew that she would.

But he couldn’t - wouldn’t - do that to her. Not when he didn’t know how much longer this arrangement between them would last, and definitely not when he didn’t care about her in the same way he had loved Katie. He liked Cara a lot, admired and respected her, enjoyed her company, especially in bed. But he knew he wasn’t in love with her, wasn’t sure if he could ever love a woman again the same way he had done with Katie. There had just been something special there with his ex - an indefinable spark, a connection, an overwhelming attraction - that he’d never come close to feeling for anyone else.

He sipped his drink - a refreshing gin and tonic this evening since it had been on the hot side today - as he scrolled through Google News on his computer. Dante mostly focused on political and financial stories, plus a few sports updates, and generally avoided the entertainment news like the plague. But a headline caught his eye and he couldn’t help himself from clicking on the story - “Widely Hyped Mid-Season Replacement Frenemies Cancelled After One Season”.

The article wasn’t very long, and basically cited low ratings and less than stellar reviews as the main reason behind the show’s cancellation. There was no mention made of any of the show’s cast members or what their future plans were, and Dante restrained himself from entering Katie’s name into a web search. He had to assume that this was just a minor blip in her career path, and that she had other projects lined up. She was stunningly beautiful, far more so than other actresses and models, and if her agent wasn’t using that to her advantage to get her lots of work then Katie needed a new agent.

Angrily, Dante closed out his browser and finished off his drink, wondering if he had time for a second before his dinner arrived. He had to stop this, he told himself firmly, stop the pattern of drinking too much and feeling sorry for himself and moping around. He’d done too damned much of that in the weeks and months after Katie had left him, and he wasn’t about to sink to those depths again. Besides, he had Cara now, and being with her made him happy, had provided him with a very pleasant distraction from his woes.

‘But it’s not the same, is it?’ nagged a pesky little voice inside his head. ‘Not really. You were in love with Katie, planned on making her your wife, but you don’t feel that way about Cara. You like her, admire her, and she makes you laugh, but what you feel for her isn’t love. And admit it - Cara could never compete with Katie, could she? Not even a little.’

The arrival of his dinner diverted him from that troubling internal voice, and the thoughts that were outright mean and unfair. Cara couldn’t help it if she wasn’t movie star gorgeous like Katie, he told himself firmly. Truth be told, very few women were. That didn’t mean Cara wasn’t attractive in her own way. She might be a little on the plump side, but was nowhere near as overweight as she made herself out to be. And the fact that she was so petite - just over five feet tall - made every extra ounce she carried that much more noticeable.

But Dante liked the fact that she had curves, especially those amazing breasts. He also found it refreshing that Cara had a healthy appetite, and relished every bite of her food. If he was being completely honest with himself, he would have to admit that one of the very few things that had irritated him about Katie was the way she’d always watched her diet like a hawk. Before she would let him make reservations at a particular restaurant, she’d insisted on viewing the menu online to make sure there was something low calorie. There was no way she would have ever consented to eating at most of the places he’d taken Cara to these past weeks - hell, she probably would have refused to cross the threshold. Katie had made no bones about the fact that she liked nice things, had expensive tastes, and enjoyed a certain standard of living.

As he dug into his steak - which had been perfectly seasoned and was so tender he barely needed a knife to cut it - Dante wondered idly how Katie would have coped had she ever found herself in the sort of dire straits Cara had found herself in. But he already knew the answer to that question, and it made him more than a little uneasy to admit that Katie wouldn’t have chosen the hard path - the one Cara had taken. Instead, Katie would have most likely found herself a rich guy, preferably a good looking one, and been content to let him support her. But Katie wouldn’t have known any other way, since her parents had spoiled and coddled her all of her life, and she’d never had to take care of herself or do without luxuries, much less basic necessities.

It wasn’t really fair, then, to compare the two women, and hardly Katie’s fault that she’d had a happy childhood and two parents who doted on her. It was just too damned bad that the same couldn’t be said for Cara. He wished that she wasn’t so stubborn, so proud, and that she would accept his offer to help her out. Dante wasn’t sure why he felt responsible for her, except for the fact that someone needed to be. But Cara was bound and determined to make her own way through life, a trait that was both admirable and frustrating at the same time.

He’d forced himself not to watch any episodes of Katie’s TV show, knowing full well that it would have been sheer torture to do so. But he wanted to prove to himself that he was well and truly over her, that the sound of her voice or the image of her face would have little to no impact on him. So after dinner he scrolled through the list of shows available from On Demand until he found Frenemies.

Dante didn’t watch a lot of TV, with the exception of sports and news, and therefore didn’t have much to compare Frenemies to. But he’d only watched about ten minutes of the sitcom to realize that a) the writing and dialog weren’t very good, b) for a sitcom the show wasn’t the least bit funny, and c) the acting was cringe worthy at times - especially Katie’s scenes.

He supposed that most young men watching the show wouldn’t have cared in the least that Katie simply couldn’t act, because what she lacked in acting talent she more than made up for in the looks and sex appeal departments. Her role on the show was that of a ditzy blonde bimbo who lived in the same apartment building as the male and female leads, and the producers had evidently decided to dress her accordingly. She wore skimpy, flashy outfits that she normally wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing in real life, ones that bared a lot of leg, midriff, and cleavage.

She was too thin, he thought critically, but knew that she’d likely been pressured to lose the weight, especially since television cameras tended to pack the pounds on a person. But even now - nearly ten pounds lighter than the last time he’d seen her, dressed in that tawdry ensemble, her silky blonde hair teased and sprayed, and her beautiful face caked with makeup - Katie was still breathtaking, still the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.

And as he continued to watch one episode, then another, of the admittedly awful sitcom, memories of his time with Katie continued to taunt him, to tempt him. He’d been dazzled by her, enraptured, in a way he’d never come close to being with another woman. She’d had him wrapped around her little finger, but he had never minded admitting that to himself, because she was a prize worth keeping, no matter the cost - or so he had always told himself. Sex with Katie had been both exciting and passionate, and he’d been more or less obsessed with her perfect body - all long, lean lines, gentle curves, satiny white skin. He had loved showing her off to all of his friends, taking her to whatever club or restaurant she wanted, and had marveled at times that such a glorious woman was actually his.

Except, in the end, Katie hadn’t wanted to belong to him or to any man - unless he had the power to advance the career that meant more to her than anything or anyone. Dante scowled as she appeared on the TV screen now, wearing a barely there mini-dress and sky high heels as she fawned over one of her male co-stars. She had sacrificed all they had meant to each other so that she could appear half-naked on a poorly written sitcom that had been panned by the critics and cancelled even before the final episodes had aired. Her rejection had damaged something inside of him, especially since she had abruptly cut off all ties with him, not attempting even once to get in touch with him.

Dante had always prided himself on ending his relationships with women in a considerate if not friendly manner. And any number of the women he’d dated in the past had made it a point to keep in touch with him - calling, texting, emailing, commenting on his social media posts, or even contriving to “run into him” at his gym or office building or a restaurant he was known to frequent. There had been several such incidences when he’d had to gently but firmly cut off contact at some point when the woman refused to get the message that they were over.

But from Katie there hadn’t been a single, solitary word. No communication whatsoever. And that had stung nearly as much as the actual breakup.

He wondered idly if Katie would possibly have the nerve to come running back to him now, especially if she had no other acting jobs lined up. He didn’t think so, given the way she’d broken his heart, but then again Katie did have expensive tastes. If she no longer had the income to support herself, it was logical to assume that she’d try to attach herself to a rich man, at least temporarily.

Dante bolted down the rest of the expensive brandy he’d been sipping for the past hour or so, grimacing as another scene with Katie filled the screen. “Well, let me tell you right now, sweetheart,” he snarled. “You’d have to do a hell of an acting job to ever get me back. And based on what I’ve seen tonight, the odds of that happening are about ten thousand to one.”