Chapter 1 #8
This earns me a chuckle. “What’s your question?”
I lean forward; arms folded on the table between us. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done to get a girl’s attention?”
He lifts his chin, pondering my question. After a few moments, he tilts he head and says, “I built this hotel.”
The line between my brows deepens as I narrow my eyes at him. It was meant to be a harmless tease, but boy did that backfire.
“You built this hotel for a woman?”
He takes a cigarette from the case on the table and lights it. His grin hidden in a plume of blue smoke. “Everything I’ve ever done has been for a woman.”
Wait, what?
I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t understand. Are you married?”
This he laughs at. “Not yet. Though, to be fair, it’s not for lack of trying.” My frown deepens and he laughs harder. “I’ve asked you twice today and you’ve turned me down flat.”
“Be serious,” I scold.
“Who says I wasn’t.”
“I-” I squeak, but the words catch in my throat. Then he smirks and I roll my eyes. He’s still teasing, trying to distract me from the business of him building this hotel for another woman. “No way. I’m not falling for that. Answer the question.”
“I believe I did.”
“No, you didn’t. Tell me about the girl.”
“Ah, well, you didn’t ask me about the girl. You asked if I was married.”
“Speak,” I command.
“Woof,” he teases.
So maybe that last round of drinks was a mistake.
“You want to know about the girl?”
I nod. “Yes, I want to know about the girl you built a casino for.”
He grins and settles in to answer. “We met at a grocery store. Her father owned it and a few more in the area. I worked there, bagging groceries and making deliveries.”
“So, you were what sixteen?”
“Ten, she was a year or two younger, but she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She was kind, smart, funny, and always spoke her mind, loudly.”
“Clearly, you have a type,” I snark.
His lips curl up at the corners, but he continues. “We grew up together, at a distance. I knew in my gut that she was the one, my soul mate, my destiny. One smile from her and I was a goner.”
“So, what happened with your dream girl?”
He looks down into his drink. “I wasn’t worthy.”
“What?” I snap. “She told you that?” My hands curl into fists, and Roman covers them with his.
“No, she doesn’t have it in her to be that cruel, but I knew that to love a girl like her would take a lot more than I had at the time which was practically nothing.”
“If she loved you, she wouldn’t care.”
“I’m sure that would be true if she’d even known I existed.”
“What?” He smiles at the indignation in my tone. “But you loved her?”
“Still do.”
The admission hits me like it was fired from a gun. He still loves her. My smile falls and I duck my head. “Oh, right. Makes sense, seeing as you built all this for her.”
He lifts my chin. “Everything I have ever done has been for her.”
His smile blurs as tears fill my eyes. Why am I so upset?
I should be relieved. This is clearly the out I’ve been waiting for to collect my things and go home to face the fallout.
But if I’m being honest with myself it stings knowing that another woman owns his heart so completely.
None of this makes any sense. What was all of this for?
Was he just using me to stick it to Mickey?
Did he even want me in the first place? The questions are endless in my head, and finally I finally find the courage to give them a voice. “Then what are we even doing here?”
He tips his head. “You tell me.”
I turn my head, nerves rattling my bones. “I feel like we are having two entirely different conversations right now.” I laugh, the sound pure frustration.
He chuckles and leans back in his seat. “Maybe we are.”
“If you are still in love with this dream girl of yours, then why go to all this trouble for me?”
“Because, as I said, everything I have ever done has been for her.”
Confusion must have been tattooed on my forehead because Roman reaches across the table and takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles, as he explains. “My full name is Anthony James Romano Jr., but folks back home called me Junior.”
My eyes go wide as the pieces finally snap into place.
Junior. The sweet boy I’d loved from a distance.
Painfully shy and skinny, with eyes that gave me butterflies.
Even as a pimply faced teenager he was undeniably beautiful, and those eyes.
Those beautiful heart stopping eyes that were looking at me now with a devotion that has felt so familiar but couldn’t place.
He had been my first crush, first heartbreak, first…
love. We were just children then, unable to understand the pull that drew us together.
We orbited each other, linked by gravity.
Suddenly, everything he’s said takes on a whole new perspective.
A million memories rush in all at once. Him climbing to the top of a tree to retrieve my kite some older boys had tossed up there at a family picnic.
How he always seemed to have my favorite pink taffy in his pocket, always willing to share.
When we were a little older, we’d stock the shelves together in blissful silence.
Content in just the nearness of each other.
It had felt so natural, so innocent, so right.
Then one day, he was gone. I was devastated.
I’d felt empty, hollow without him. Over time, I’d convinced myself the connection I’d felt with him was all in my head.
The romantic fantasies of a naive little girl who believed in fairytales and true love.
We were children then, barely knew each other.
“I don’t know what to say,” I confess, my voice barely audible. Hot tears spill from my eyes as my world flips upside down.
He sets his drink down on the table and leans in close. “Say you’ll stay.”
Tears flood my eyes, my smile bright as the desert sun. “Kiss me,” I demand.
With a grin, he slides his hand into my hair and takes my breath away.
The End.