Chapter Thirteen
chapter thirteen
CAIO
“Yeah, that’s great.” I mindlessly sign off on details that Stefan is prattling on about in our meeting. We are finalizing the details for the fundraiser we are hosting here next week but I can’t keep my mind focused on the task at hand.
Rafael and I started the Ruby Cove Entrepreneurial Program a few years ago. With me starting from nothing, and Rafael inheriting his business from his grandparents, we have a decent amount of experience in how difficult the business sector can be.
We set up the program to give kids with bright ideas the chance to work with industry professionals. They do internships, and we offer one on one training sessions with their mentors, whatever they’re willing to do and/or have time for. We use our connections to get the kids in contact with people who can help them in any way possible.
We take a different group of kids each year, and the number of kids we can help depends on how much we can fundraise during the year. Not that me and Rafael haven’t pitched in ourselves every year so we can take more people, although we usually get a pretty good turnout at these events. People travel from all over the area to attend, we send invitations out to as many deep-pocketed people that we know, and I often travel to make connections that could be beneficial to us. That’s what I was on my way home from doing when I stumbled across the prettiest girl my eyes have ever been lucky enough to gaze upon.
The foundation is something Rafael and I have put our all into, it’s important to both of us, and this is our biggest money grab of the year, so it’s an important event. But I can’t keep my focus today.
My brain is replaying my last encounter with Isla on repeat, reimagining the way her cheeks flushed at our proximity. I’m usually able to switch off any personal shit to focus on my work, but not today. Actually most of the time it’s the other way around, and I struggle to switch off my work mind in my personal life, but as established since the first day I met her, Isla is the exception to that.
When I’m in her presence she’s all I can focus on, and when I’m away, I’m thinking about the last time I saw her, or wondering when the next time will be. It’s pathetic really. I barely know the girl, but I find myself itching to remedy that. But every time I think I’m getting somewhere I run into a brick wall, reminded that she has her guard up, but it does anything but deter me. If anything It just makes me want to smash right through it to see what’s on the other side.
I know she’s a fierce friend, that much is clear. She is obviously loyal to those she cares about and sticks up for what she believes is right. It would be a mistake for someone to let her affection slip through their fingers. Like this Brandon. He must have fucked up big time to lose that kind of loyalty. The possibilities of what he did are endless, but any option where Isla had to come to the realization that she deserved better is enough for me to despise the guy.
“Earth to Caio.” Stefan is clicking his fingers in front of me, trying to catch my attention. He’s had to do that a bit lately.
“Sorry, what?”
“The garlands? Yes or no?” When Stefan gets frustrated, his French accent really comes out. It’s something I chuckled at when I first met him.
Big mistake.
“Whatever you think, I trust your decorative judgment.” I couldn’t care less about how the place is decorated, as long as it’s a success.
Stefan gasps with mock drama. “You flatter me, but where is your head today?”
“It’s here, I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” True. I haven’t been able to get a solid night's sleep since my last encounter with Isla, which was nearly two weeks ago now. Last night it took hours of tossing and turning before sleep finally claimed me, and even when it did my mind didn’t rest. I dreamed of Isla, of her soft skin, of how it might feel against mine. Of how her silken hair might feel wrapped around my hand. Of her pretty pink lips and how they might feel wrapped around?—
“Okay, well make sure you get enough sleep before this event.” Stefan starts collecting his stuff, his voice like a bucket of cold water over my fantasy. “You need to be in top shape. Especially if you want to impress the lovely Isla.”
“What?” Could he tell I was thinking about her?
He stands up and begins walking away. “Well, you are inviting her, aren’t you?” he calls over his shoulder.
He’s gone before I have time to answer, not that I have one. I hadn’t thought to invite her. It’s not like she’s under any obligation to come with me this time, so...what? It would be a date? Would she agree to that? I see the way she reacts to me, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything more than what it is: attraction.
I shouldn’t have been as forward as I was that night, but I couldn’t help it, I just wanted to see if she would react the same way to me as I do to her.
It’s clear that Isla feels that same spark that I do, otherwise she wouldn’t react the way she does when we are alone together. The tips of her ears wouldn’t turn red at my proximity, and she wouldn’t fumble her words like she does when I look at her in a more than friendly way. It’s undeniably endearing. If anyone saw us interact the way we do, some might think she’s uncomfortable. But I see the moments when her guard slips, when interest flashes in her eyes, and it only encourages me to continue. But again, that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with me outside of forced situations. I know I do. But I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Later that day I’m sitting at the bar in Olive I can’t let things get out from under me because I’m distracted.
“Just ask her,” he says before shoveling pasta into his mouth. It’s not that easy. I don’t know why but it’s just not.
“How are you getting on with everything here?” I change the subject.
“Hm,” he shrugs noncommittally, avoiding the subject. Rafael has had the restaurant since his nonna passed, leaving it in his capable hands. It’s been a few years now, but I know his passion for this place has faded. He’ll never give it up, his nonna’s legacy means too much to him, but I don’t know how to help him. That’s why I always get him to cater my events, not that I’d use anyone else anyway, but it gives him something fresh to focus on.
“It’s not important right now. Do you think we’ll have a good turnout at the fundraiser?”
I let him off by avoiding the talk about the restaurant; we can shelve that for another day. “I went as far as Rome and met with as many from the list we made that agreed to meet with me,” I say. “Is Marisol going to make it?”
“She’s got a shoot that day and won’t be able to make it on time.”
Marisol is Raf’s younger sister, she’s a well-known model, and by well-known I mean she’s featured in magazines all around the country. Rafael can’t go a week without seeing a photo of his little sister in lingerie, and he fucking hates it. He’s begged her to stop if only so he doesn’t have to witness it, but she loves what she does. She’s also dating one of the top photographers in the business, which Rafael also hates, and for good reason. The guy is a cocky bastard, and he treats Marisol like a trophy to have on his arm adding to his image. I don’t know why she puts up with a guy like that, she knows she could do ten times better, but she’s in love with him. God knows why, I don’t see the appeal, but Rafael and I have had one too many phone calls that ended with Marisol in tears over that topic to bring it up with her again.
“She’s sending a donation for the cause though,” he adds, rolling his eyes. I know he misses his sister. She started taking her modeling seriously after their nonna died, throwing herself into the work and hasn’t been home since. But Marina has been there for Rafael like a sister just as she has been for me throughout the years, she’s the glue that holds us all together. Honestly, I’m surprised she doesn’t lose it at us more than she does. We are like her naughty little brothers, even though she is years younger than both of us.
She’s had to put up with so much shit from all of us. From Heath intimidating every guy she’s ever tried to date in the last few years just by sending them a look, to Rafael and I sneaking into the bar years ago when she first opened it to scare her. When she first bought the building, she thought it was haunted. She used to think she heard ghosts downstairs in the bar at night when she was staying upstairs. She never found out that it was Rafael and me cracking open a beer or two and occasionally moving the furniture out of place. It’s our best kept secret to date, considering that nothing much gets past Marina.
She’s always looked out for us though, always put as much love into our businesses as she has her own, she’s everyone’s biggest supporter, and like I said, she’s the glue that holds our little family together.
“It doesn’t matter though. Her donation will help.”
“Yeah,” I say, it’s not quite the same as having her here, but I don’t say that.
“Now stop being an idiot and just ask Isla to come, what’s got you so rattled about asking? If she says no, no big deal.”
“If she says no…” big deal. I don’t know why, but I’m nervous. I’ve only caught glimpses of her over the last two weeks, a swish of her long hair as the elevator doors close. Or a whiff of that vanilla and campfires smell lingering in the lobby like I’ve just missed her. I can’t help but feel like she’s been avoiding me, and I don’t like it.
“I’ll ask her,” I say. I just need to find her first.