CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Surfing is definitely not on my list of things I want to do ever again.
I cough up salty ocean water as I drag my feet to dry land. Somehow I manage to keep hold of my beginner’s surfboard as the water rushes around my sore calves. After a night of unbelievable passion, Michael convinced me to take my first surfing lesson with him this morning.
I hate it.
Like loathe.
Despise.
Never-want-to-do-again hate.
For the life of me, I can’t understand why anyone would want to jump on a board and skid on top of the water before being toppled over by an angry wave. What bloody torture. Who invented this sport anyway?
“Abby!” Michael calls out from his surfboard, beckoning me to come back into the water.
I shake my head and shout, “I’m going to just lay out here!”
I need to catch my breath.
Michael gives me a thumbs-up and paddles back out to wait for another wave.
I throw my surfboard on the sand and plop myself on the towels we spread out when we arrived. My body aches all over. I’ve always thought I was in good shape but from the way my muscles are quivering from the strenuous exercise, I begin to doubt my earlier beliefs. Regular exercise is definitely something I’m going to have to add to my list of activities when I get back to London.
The heat from the sun hits me hard and within minutes my skin is tingling from the strong rays and I feel immensely better. I lean up on my elbows to take a swig of my water and watch Michael expertly catch a wave back in. I sigh in pleasure and wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at. I’m pretty sure if he puts his mind to something, he can learn to do it better than anyone.
When he reaches the shore, he tips over into the water and quickly runs out holding his surfboard at his side like a pro. He reaches me in no time, his breathing barely labored from the exertion. So unfair! I could barely make my way to the towels.
He smiles down at me as he puts his surfboard on the sand.
“How did you like it?” he asks with a wide smile, his enthusiasm contagious.
“I didn’t.” I give him a deadpan stare that gives the opposite reaction than I had hoped for as he throws his head back and roars with laughter.
I’m too tired to be embarrassed.
“You didn’t have any fun?”
“Not in the least.” I am enjoying the current view as I sit back and admire the display of raw masculinity that stands before me.
He hunkers down next to me and leans over my body, the water from the ocean drips on my bare skin causing shivers of excitement to rush up my spine as he stares down at my face, blocking the sun with his wide chest.
“That’s too bad,” he says with a tender smile as he traces a line down the side of my cheek. “It’s my favorite sport.”
“By all means, enjoy yourself,” I tell him breathlessly.
His lips find mine in a long, satisfying kiss before he pulls back to stare into my eyes. He looks thoroughly amused.
“I had wanted us to enjoy an activity together,” he admits with a shrug.
“I thought we already had,” I reply teasingly, referring to the sexual marathon we had participated in the night before.
His gaze turns heavy as it flicks over my body.
“How remiss of me,” he says huskily, his eyes smoldering with desire.
I lift my hand to cup his cheek. His stubble tickles my skin as he rubs his face against my palm.
“I want to take you to town for dinner tonight,” he tells me. “Do you think you’ll be able to stay awake?”
He’s referring to the fact that I almost fell asleep on my soufflé last night. I had barely gotten two bites in before I felt as though I hit a brick wall and needed to lay down.
“I’ll be fine if I can take a nap.”
“I might have to let you do that on your own.” His eyes lazily caress my body. “I don’t know if I can lay in a bed with you and keep my hands to myself.”
My heart slams in my chest and I can’t stop myself from pulling his face back down to mine to give him another kiss. The things he says. The way he makes my body sing. So far this trip has been too good to be true.
His hand moves up my stomach to palm my breast, teasing my nipple until I moan in pleasure.
“Michael,” I whisper in longing.
“Abigail,” he whispers back against my lips.
“We’re on a beach,” I remind him trying my best to remain as modest as possible even though it’s virtually impossible with this man. “Anyone can walk by.”
He sighs against my mouth before robbing me of his touch and flipping on his back. I immediately regret my words, leaning up on my elbow to stare at his half-naked perfection.
“God, I needed this,” he says with his eyes closed soaking in the sun.
“You’re a bit of a workaholic,” I admit.
“I like what I do.”
“I can tell.” I trace a line down his stomach. His hand snakes out and stops my onslaught.
“Behave,” he says gruffly. “Or I’ll forget we’re on a beach and have my way with you.”
My heart speeds up at the possibility.
As if he can read my mind his eyes slowly open to stare at me. There’s a desperate need in his eyes, enough heat in his gaze to light the jungle on fire.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper to him.
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll let you,” I admit with longing.
I hear him silently swear before he abruptly stands up and offers me his hand. I stare up at him in confusion.
“I don’t want to surf.” There’s no bloody way I’m getting back on that thing.
“We’re not going to surf.” A primal look comes over him as he stares down at my body as if he owns it. “We’re going to walk back to the house. And then I’m going to fuck you until you don’t have any energy left in your body and you can think of nothing else. And then I’m going to tuck you nicely into bed and leave you alone so you can rest up for tonight.”
He doesn’t have to ask twice.
***
After spending a few hours fulfilling his promise, Michael leaves me so I can take a much-needed nap. I sleep like the dead. When I finally wake up, it’s late in the afternoon and I’m feeling refreshed. I take a quick shower and slip into a simple blue maxi dress that falls to my ankles. I leave my hair down and put on blush and mascara before checking my appearance in the mirror. Luckily, I haven’t burned and am sporting a golden tan that gives me a healthy glow.
Before I head out, I grab my phone and check for text messages and missed calls. I’ll have to sift through my emails later as well. I know I’m probably inundated with work emails I have to answer and I know I’ll have to dedicate a few hours to respond to everyone.
Danielle and Georgie both texted to see how things were going and I write back to both saying everything is amazing, even adding a few happy face emojis to let them know how great it’s all going. I know it’s late at night and they’re probably sleeping so I promise to call them both the following day to talk.
When I listen to my voicemail, I’m surprised to hear my mom has left a message. Since my rather dramatic breakup with Dimitri, a feeling of dread washes over me whenever I hear a message from my mom. It’s not like she’s had anything nice to say since that moment in my life. Or ever, really. The woman could have a doctorate in how to make your child feel inferior and inadequate. But regardless, she’s my mom—the only one I’ve got—so I force myself to listen to her message and brace myself for the disappointment I will no doubt hear in her voice.
“Abigail.” Her voice rings through the phone. “It’s your mother. I believe you’ve forgotten you have one since I barely ever hear from you. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
Her voice is laced with sarcasm, and I try my hardest not to roll my eyes.
“I believed you couldn’t hurt me any more than you already have but as my luck goes, that is just not the case.” I hear her sigh dramatically into the phone. “Davis has just informed your stepfather and me that you’ve been conducting yourself in a way that is so unbelievably shocking I had to call you and hear it from you directly.”
My breath hitches as I wait for her to continue.
Even her voicemails to me are long and drawn out, like she has some strange need to torture me more than any human should have to bear.
“He told us that you are having an affair with Michael Sinclair.”
My heart stops beating.
Like literally, stops.
Shock waves ripple through my body as the reality of her words slowly wash over me.
Bloody Davis strikes again!
“Abigail Walters, I sincerely hope this is just a misunderstanding on poor Davis’s part,” she continues in a stern voice.
Poor Davis?
Poor.
Davis.
Wtf?
More like Davis… the Antichrist!
“You do realize Michael is a forever bachelor and will never ever marry you, let alone be faithful.” My mother’s voice practically sneers with displeasure. “And not to mention, you are related to him through marriage and will never live this affair down if it is in fact, true. Think about what the family will say? Even though you jilted poor Dimitri, who I still believe was a perfect choice for you by the way, at the altar, I honestly thought you had more sense than this. Please call me immediately and tell me that I have nothing to worry about.”
I have to listen to the voicemail three more times because I keep thinking I must be dreaming and my mom’s one-sided conversation has to be a part of my imagination or even jet lag. But no, on the third go around, I realize it is not my mind playing tricks on me. This is actually a fact.
Holy shit.
As usual, my mother’s cold disapproval leaves me feeling helpless and insecure. Like I’ve done something wrong. It shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t. But unfortunately, old habits die hard, and it does matter.
I sit down on the couch as I allow the reality of my situation to sink in slowly. Well, fuck me. My mom knows. My stepfather knows.
Who else in the family is aware?
Davis can’t be that big of an ass, can he?
Who am I kidding?
Yes, he’s proved time and time again, that he can.
God, I hate my stepbrother.
Why does he always have to be so cruel? What had I ever done to him?
Since I know the answers to those questions will remain in the black hole of life’s eternal mysteries I do the only thing I can to calm myself —I call Georgie.
I don’t care what time it is back home. I need my friend to talk me off the edge of the cliff that I’m now teetering dangerously close to and about to jump off from.
“Oui?” I hear his groggy voice echo into my phone. “Merde! It’s three o’clock in the morning, Abby.”
“I know.” I can’t stop my voice from quivering.
“What’s wrong?” He immediately reacts to the sound. “Has something happened? Are you hurt?”
“I’m all right,” I rush out to him. “I mean, physically yes, but emotionally not so much.”
“Talk to me.”
I do. I tell him about my mom’s message and wait for him to respond.
“Abby.” Georgie’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “A leopard never changes its spots. Your mother is who she is and will be that same person for the rest of your life unless sanity begins to seep into her brain, which I would venture to guess will not happen in the foreseeable future. You cannot live your life in fear of her.”
“But what if she’s right?”
“About Michael?” Georgie asks directly.
“Yes.”
“You knew exactly who you were jumping into bed with,” Georgie begins slowly. “You know who he is. He has not pretended to be any other way with you. He has been honest with you from the beginning. Do not allow your mother to suck the joy out of your life. I told you before you left to have fun and enjoy yourself. The rest of them—your mother, Davis, the family—all of them be damned. This is your life. Start acting like it.”
Georgie’s words begin to seep into my mind and heart. The truth behind his words making perfect sense.
“You’re right,” I tell him after a long moment. “You are so right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why do I always allow her to second-guess myself? It has to end.”
“It does,” he agrees.
I smile in gratitude, wishing he was in front of me so I could give him a big hug.
“I’m sorry I woke you up. But I’m happy I got to hear your voice.”
“Je t’aime,” Georgie says.
“I love you too,” I say before hanging up.
Georgie’s words stick with me and after the conversation I had with Michael last night about dreams and living my life without judging myself, I feel infinitely better. It’s none of my family’s bloody business what I do or who I do it with. I’m a grown woman. And this is my life to do what I want. All of them be damned. My eyes are wide open and I know exactly what I’m getting into.
And that’s all that matters.
I throw my phone back into my purse and head out of the room searching for Michael’s whereabouts. I don’t see him outside by the pool and wonder if he went out to surf again, maybe with Joseph this time. I walk into the kitchen and find Giselle cutting up some fruit. She smiles in pleasure when she sees me.
“Did you have a good nap?” she asks as she takes in my appearance.
“I did, thank you,” I reply, unable to stop the blush that rushes to my cheeks. I’m pretty sure Giselle is aware I’m now sleeping in Michael’s room.
“Can I get you anything to drink or eat?” she asks politely as she continues to chop away.
“I’ll just have a water.”
Giselle puts the knife down and opens the refrigerator to pull out a glass bottle. She sets it on the counter before pulling out a cup from one of the cabinets and pouring me a large glass.
“Gracias,” I tell her gratefully when she hands me the glass.
“De nada,” she returns. “Mr. Sinclair let me know you’ll be eating in town tonight.”
“Yes,” I nod. “That’s what he told me.”
“You’ll love the restaurant he’s planning to take you to,” she says with a knowing smile. “Their food is second to none, and the band is very popular with the locals.”
“I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Mr. Sinclair was working out here all afternoon. That man never lets himself relax.”
“I know,” I agree with her.
“Maybe you can convince him to take it easy,” Giselle says, giving me a wink.
I laugh off her comment. I really don’t believe anyone could ever have the power to deter Michael from what he puts his mind to.
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“His family rang the house earlier and he’s been in his office ever since.”
“His office?” I ask, thinking how coincidental it is that both he and I received phone calls from our respective families.
“It’s the small house down the pathway to the left of the pool,” she explains. “Would you like me to take you there?”
“That’s all right. I’ll just find it myself.”
I leave Giselle a moment later and head outside past the pool.
I pause for a moment to take in my surroundings.
The landscape on the property is lush, creating a tropical oasis that is warm and inviting. The pathways are picturesque and I realize I could stay here forever. I might even have to agree with Michael and start calling his home my favorite place in the world.
At the present moment, it is a far more appealing option than returning to London and having to sit my mother down, which I fully plan to do, and have the stay-out-of-my-life-and-start-acting-like-a-real-mother conversation that has been percolating in my head since my talk with Georgie.
I reach the small bungalow that is tucked away in the foliage and knock on the door. When there’s no answer, I slowly turn the knob and walk inside. Michael’s office decor here is more tribal than the one he has in London, which suits the setting infinitely better. Instead of windows facing the River Thames, he has sliding doors that open up onto a veranda overlooking the Caribbean ocean.
Definitely a preferable working environment.
Michael is seated outside with his legs propped up on a table staring out at the beautiful view. I walk up behind him and place my hands on his shoulders and lean in to kiss his cheek.
He stiffens in response and pulls away.
“Abby.” His voice is formal. “You’re awake.”
I respond to his stiff greeting as if I’ve been burned and immediately step away from him. I curse myself for being so forward, but then how can I not be after the night and day we’ve had? I step around to the side of his chair so I can see his face.
Unfortunately, he’s wearing sunglasses so I can’t even gauge his mood by reading his eyes.
My mother’s ominous words ring in my mind, and it takes everything I have not to allow myself to panic over his cold greeting. It’s nothing, I tell myself.
Don’t read into it, Abby.
“I woke up a while ago.” I try to smile and push the feelings of doubt away.
“I trust you slept well.”
“Perfect. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”
“You haven’t.”
I wait for him to ask me to sit down but the invitation doesn’t come, so I continue to awkwardly stand across from him. I cross my arms to keep myself from fidgeting.
“Is everything all right?” I ask after an awkward minute of silence.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Michael returns in a cool voice.
“No reason,” I shrug nervously. “I was just asking.”
I wait for him to say something more but it doesn’t come, so I turn my gaze away from him and stare out at the ocean.
“Are we still having dinner in town?” I ask after a moment, hating how small my voice sounds even to myself.
“Yes.”
I feel a surge of relief at his response. Maybe my mom’s message has thrown me more than I know and I’m just reading into things. He has been working all afternoon. Maybe he had a bad work call and is just stressed out?
I turn my gaze back to his, wishing more than anything that I could see his eyes and tell what he’s thinking. I force myself to smile brightly.
“When will we be leaving?” I ask, silently begging him to give me some kind of warmth. Anything to appease the anxiety that is slowly building inside.
“In an hour.”
Emotionless.
Distant.
The polar opposite of how he had been this afternoon.
I can’t help but panic.
I stand there like a fool for a second longer before awkwardly shuffling my feet.
“Then I guess I’ll just wait for you in the house,” I finally say when Michael doesn’t offer me any more.
“Perfect.”
I try to hide the hurt I feel from his cold dismissal, but it’s hard. So hard. I bite my lip and nod and turn to walk out of the room.
“I’ll see you then,” I tell him, my voice raw.
I leave the bungalow as fast as I can and when I shut the door, I could swear I hear him curse out loud. I brush the few lone tears that fall down my cheeks and tell myself that it’s nothing. That he’s just in a mood. But the fear of Michael the chameleon changing his colors on me again overwhelms me. I can’t take it.
I won’t allow it to happen.
I won’t.
He can’t withdraw from me now. Not when we’ve come so far. I retreat back to my room in the house and do my best to calm myself. I decide to change my outfit into something skimpy and sexy, hoping to entice him and melt some of that icy layer that suddenly formed while I was asleep. For one horrifying moment I wondered if my mom rang him too, but then I shake the thought away.
Even she would not be so presumptuous, at least not until she had spoken to me to find out the truth.
But still… the thought lingers, and I can’t help but wonder.
I force the disturbing thought away and slip into a baby doll strapless white dress that shows an ample amount of my cleavage and legs and pair it with high nude wedges. I replicate the makeup Danielle had put on me at the office and am pretty pleased with how I look. I think I do a good enough job and feel confident enough to face anything Michael throws my way.
When I walk downstairs, I find Michael waiting for me in the family room. He’s dressed casually in green cargo shorts and a white T-shirt, looking as impossibly handsome as he always does.
If I hadn’t been so focused on his reaction, I wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes light up in desire when they sweep over my body. The reaction is so quick, like he’s trying to hide his true feelings from me. His jaw tightens as he exhales and then the cold wall that met me in the office is back up in place.
I search his face for any sign of the warmth I saw before and it’s not there. But I still cling on to hope. I just wish I knew why he’s acting like this.
What happened that changed everything?
Was it stress?
Was it something that happened in bed with us?
No, everything about that was perfect.
Too good to be true.
It’s something else.
“Ready?” he asks quietly, interrupting my train of thought.
“I am.” We walk to the front door and get into the car.
The ride to the restaurant is uncomfortably silent, and I honestly can’t wait to jump out of the car and breathe in the open air. I don’t understand why the atmosphere around him is so charged now and I’m only hoping the ambiance of the restaurant will help change his mood.
When we arrive, Michael helps me out of the car and issues a few orders to the driver, who leaves us. The restaurant sits right on the white sand beach, and the music from the band can be heard outside. Michael silently escorts me inside and I’m surprised to see Joseph waiting for us by the bar with a dark-haired Latin beauty. His arm is around her waist and he greets us with a warm smile.
“Buenas noches,” he says happily as he walks over to us.
“Buenas noches,” Michael and I both reply.
“Nice to see you, Carla,” Michael says warmly, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “This is Abby.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” I say, shaking Carla’s hand.
Carla smiles and returns the greeting.
“They have our table ready outside like you requested,” Joseph tells us as an attractive waitress makes her way to us, carrying our menus.
“It’s nice to have you back, Michael,” she practically purrs as she puts a much too familiar hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“Natalia,” Michael says with an appreciative smile. “It’s good to see you.”
I notice the subtle way she squeezes his shoulder and can’t help but wonder how well the two really know each other.
Natalia is dressed in short white jean shorts and a crop top that shows off her rock hard abs and a silver belly button ring. Her body is enviable and her sultry good looks would interest a dead man. Her gaze coolly flickers over mine and the female in me can tell she’s sizing me up as if I’m her competition.
Instead of shrinking back like I usually would have done, I stand my ground and return her look with just as much icy disdain.
“Follow me,” she says as she moves past us and makes her way to the tables outside.
Michael places a hand on the small of my back as we follow Natalia. Fairy lights are hung all around the trees outside, and the deck is filled with occupants eating and enjoying the music and ocean view. Once we’re seated, Natalia hands us each a menu and lingers over Michael.
“Jaguar coladas for the table?” Natalia asks Michael with a sexy smile.
“You remember!” He smiles back at her in a way that makes me cringe.
“I remember everything you like,” she returns flirtatiously.
I have the sudden urge to throw up. The two are much too familiar with each other. The subtle looks. The way Natalia keeps touching him. I really think I’m going to be sick. Before I can excuse myself from the table and run to the nearest bathroom, Carla reaches out to me and squeezes my arm.
“How do you like Costa Rica?” She tries to distract me from the sexy bombshell that is hanging on to Michael’s every word.
“It’s great,” I reply in a small voice hoping my face isn’t betraying what I’m feeling.
“Joseph told me it’s your first time here.”
“It is,” I tell her, wishing I could just disappear.
From the corner of my eye, I see Natalia leave the table and I sigh in relief. Michael turns his attention to Joseph and the two begin to speak in Spanish.
“There’s so much for you to see.”
I know Carla is trying to distract me from the feeling of misery that has suddenly consumed my heart.
“I’m really looking forward to it,” I tell her, wishing the drinks were ready so I could distract myself in any way possible. I know alcohol can do the bloody trick.
“I hear you had your first surf lesson today,” Joseph interjects, joining in on our conversation.
“I did,” I reply with a flush of embarrassment, thinking about how badly I sucked at it.
“How did you like it?” Joseph asks curiously.
“She hated it,” Michael answers quickly before I can.
“Really?” Joseph seems surprised.
I shrug uncomfortably, annoyed that Michael would answer for me.
“I didn’t hate it. I’ve just never surfed before, and it was harder than I thought.”
“You’ll have to go out again,” Joseph says with an encouraging smile. “The first time is always the hardest. And Michael is the best teacher.”
“She won’t be going out again,” Michael returns quickly, his voice hard.
My heart lodges in my throat as I look over at his impassive face.
“I won’t?”
“Isn’t that what you told me?”
I shrug my shoulders defensively and before I can answer Natalia is back with four large tropical drinks that are just what I need to help calm myself.
She places them in front of us before returning to Michael’s side and leaning into him in a way that is completely inappropriate.
I hate her.
“What can I bring you to eat?” she practically purrs into his ear.
Michael gives her a warm smile, obviously enjoying the attention.
“We’ll leave it to the chef,” Michael says as he hands her his menu.
“Perfect.” She collects the menus and gives him another look that makes me want to scratch her eyes out.
Is this really happening right in front of me?
Is he openly flirting with this Costa Rican beauty?
Right. In. Front. Of. Me.
I look over at Joseph and Carla and if they notice, they thankfully don’t let on. When Natalia leaves, Joseph grabs his drink and lifts his glass.
“Cheers!” he says as he meets my gaze with a warm smile. “To Abby’s first time in Costa Rica.”
We clink glasses and I take a long sip from the straw. The drink is delicious and I can’t taste any alcohol.
“Careful,” Michael finally turns to look at me with an indecipherable look on his face. “These drinks tend to creep up on you.”
“I’m a big girl,” I return coldly. “You just worry about yourself. I think I can handle myself just fine.”
His jaw clenches and he narrows his eyes. I can tell he doesn’t appreciate my comment.
I look away from him and smile widely at Joseph.
“Do you give surfing lessons?” I ask him impulsively.
“I do,” Joseph says slowly.
“Can I bother you for one tomorrow?” I continue even though it’s the last thing on earth I want to do. But Michael’s last comment about me surfing has annoyed me more than I thought possible. How dare he?
“Me?” Joseph laughs nervously as his eyes flicker over to Michael.
If possible, Michael’s body language becomes more ominous, but I don’t care.
“Maybe my teacher didn’t do such a good job.” I can’t help but jab at him with a good-natured smile. Joseph’s eyes round in his face and I can tell I’ve completely thrown him. I know I shouldn’t have put Michael’s employee in this position, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Carla suddenly chimes in as she looks from Michael to me. “Maybe you were nervous out there with Michael. I know when Joseph tried to teach me I was very uncomfortable so maybe a lesson from someone you don’t know might make you change your mind.”
Joseph still seems uneasy. He looks over at Michael for his approval.
“So what do you say?” I continue on, completely aware of the angry energy Michael is emitting.
I glance over at him and cringe when I see the ice that blasts from his eyes.
“You’re free to do as you please.” His voice is cool and emotionless.
If for some reason they weren’t aware before, I’m pretty sure Joseph and Carla have caught on to the animosity that’s grown between us.
“It would be my pleasure,” Joseph finally says with an awkward smile. “We’ll go out in the morning.”
“Perfect.” I take another long sip of my drink.
The last thing I want to do is go out and surf again, but I’ll be damned if I let Michael stop me.
“So what do you have planned while you’re here?” Carla asks, changing the subject.
“I don’t really have plans yet.”
“No? Well, you definitely have to go zip-lining and you absolutely must go swimming with the dolphins. You’ll love that. It’s such an incredible experience.”
“Abby isn’t like the women here,” Michael says casually, leaning back in his chair. “She’s posh and won’t enjoy anything that might chip a nail.”
WTF?
His insult is direct. Cutting. And it stings.
But I’ll be damned if I let him know how much it hurts me. How bloody dare he?!
“I think you should let Abby speak for herself.” I look at him with icy displeasure. “I would actually love to zip-line and swimming with the dolphins sounds like a dream.”
I turn my gaze back to Carla and smile, hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness that Michael is hell-bent on causing.
“If Michael won’t take you, I’m more than happy to,” Carla replies with a kind voice as she gives me a knowing look. “I have the week off school so it would be no trouble at all.”
“Thank you.” I shrink back in my seat just wanting to disappear.
Joseph’s phone rings and he excuses himself from the table to answer it, leaving the three of us alone.
Luckily a waiter comes over with some seafood appetizers and places them down on the table for us. Unfortunately, none of the appetizing smells whet my appetite and all I want is for dinner to be over so I can go back to my room and nurse my breaking heart. I don’t even understand how we got here? What’s suddenly switched in Michael’s mind?
Carla helps herself to some food as I watch in misery.
“This looks amazing,” she says to no one in particular.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Michael pushes back from the table and heads back inside the restaurant.
I turn to watch him go and notice how Natalia saunters over to him when he reaches the bar. She leans into him and they begin to talk in a much too intimate way—heads bent in close together, bodies almost touching.
I can feel my face flush with embarrassment.
Again, he’s openly flirting with her right in front of me.
I really can’t even believe it’s happening.
I want to die.
Carla grabs my hand and forces me to look at her. I know she can see the pain on my face. She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Don’t let Natalia get to you,” she says, her eyes narrowing in anger. “She’s a desperate fool.”
“He doesn’t seem to mind.” I try my best to act like I don’t give a damn.
“You’re obviously fighting,” Carla says with a knowing look. “We’ve all been there, and he’s just being a stupid man.”
“He is a stupid man,” I mutter in return, agreeing with her astute observation.
Carla laughs and I can’t help but join in.
“Aren’t they all?” She squeezes my hand in reassurance. “This argument will pass.”
I shrug my shoulders and look away from her knowing gaze. Carla doesn’t know our backstory and I’d rather not get into it with her. She’s obviously under the impression we’ve been together for a while, when that is far from the case.
“Can I tell you something that I could probably get in trouble from Joseph for revealing?” she says as she picks up her drink.
“What’s that?” I ask, my interest piqued.
“Joseph says Michael’s never brought a woman to his home here before,” she tells me. “And he knows he’s had plenty of girlfriends. Joseph thinks he’s serious about you.”
I’m happy I don’t have any alcohol in my mouth or I would have spit it out in Carla’s face. Her comment actually makes me laugh.
Like, really laugh.
Serious? About me? That’s rich.
“What’s so funny?” Carla asks in confusion.
“You’re so wrong.” I shake my head, laughing. “That can’t be farther from the truth.”
“How can you be so sure? Even though he’s mad about something, I can still see the way he looks at you.”
“How?” I hate myself for asking, but I can’t seem to stop the words.
Carla’s smile is slow, sure.
“The way a man looks at a woman he’s in love with.”