Chapter 12
ISLA
Five o’clock arrived, and I’d just returned to West End a frazzled mess after the catering event. My shift that would never end was far from over. I had another four or five hours to go before I could make the hour drive home.
Dudley and I had hit some traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge. There was a horrible two-car accident. Observing the totaled cars had unnerved me something awful.
I put my hand on my stomach and wondered what would happen to Pippa if something happened to me.
The worst-case scenario haunted me a million times since her birth, but I hadn’t done anything about it.
There wasn’t a will or guardianship set up for my precious lovebug.
The only thing I’d done was give Alba the phone number of Ciro’s sister, Rosa. Not my own sister’s but Ciro’s.
There weren’t many people I trusted, but I’d trust Rosa with my life and my daughter’s.
“How did it go?” Falina asked the moment she saw me enter the kitchen through the alley door.
“Great. I handed out two dozen business cards.”
“Excellent. Take ten, then get ready for the dinner rush.” Falina side-eyed me weirdly.
“Sure thing.” I stretched my back and exhaled.
“But I might need fifteen minutes to empty these jugs.” I placed my hands on my breasts.
They ached something fierce. I hadn’t stopped breastfeeding, even though Pippa would take a bottle.
I refused to stop. We both needed to connect after picking her up. Breastfeeding was best for both of us.
“Of course.” She smiled, understanding that I needed to pump. “And I almost forgot. Some guy was asking about you.”
“A guy?” I pretended to be oblivious, but it could have only been one guy asking about me.
“Yeah. Said he’d been in yesterday. Have you been holding out on me?” Falina was obsessed with finding a good man for me, hence Jon.
“Holding out on you? Absolutely not. What did he want?” I casually asked, though my heart felt like it might burst out of my chest and cover Falina in blood and scraps of flesh.
Since I’d moved to San Francisco, I had run into a couple of college friends. So, it was possible that someone I knew had come in and not Ciro.
Honestly, Isla. You’re grasping at straws.
I know.
“Just to see you. He was hot.” Falina fanned her face.
My already-racing heart kicked up a notch.
“Hot?” My stomach twisted into knots. “What did he look like?” Please, no seductive brown eyes.
“Dark hair. Tall and muscly. A perfect mega-watt smile that would charm the pants off any woman.”
Oh, Jesus.
Falina paused, thinking. “And a sexy, meticulously trimmed beard.”
“Oh, really?” I pretended to be fascinated.
Why had Ciro grown the sexy beard after we broke up? Jerk. I’d asked him several times to let his facial hair grow out a little, but he’d refused. Gah, he was so infuriating!
“Mhm… And hypnotic chocolate-brown eyes. He was by far the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, even on the cover of GQ magazine. Like ever.” Falina flushed bright red, appearing heated or maybe in heat.
My legs nearly gave out. I caught myself leaning against the wall. Why did Ciro return?
“Hey. You okay? You’re white as a sheet.” She helped me to a bench along the wall. “Let me get you some water.”
Falina had described Ciro perfectly. I couldn’t see him again. Conflict and I didn’t mix. It was easier to give in and scold myself afterward for being a push over.
The night I left Ciro, it’d taken every morsel of strength to walk out. I loved him deeply then and still did now. I didn’t know if I could resist him and deny my feelings again.
“Here, babe.” Falina handed me a glass of water. “Have you not been staying hydrated? I know how you are when you’re working. You never take two seconds to drink anything.”
I gulped, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m okay. Thanks.”
“Are you sure?” She eyed me suspiciously. “Anyway, Mr. Hot Stuff said he’d be back this evening. I told him you worked until nine.”
“You what?” I shouted, not meaning to. “Why would you tell him that? He could be a crazy stalker. Or a serial killer! What happened to privacy? Taking a message?” I gripped my chest, feeling as though I might stroke out.
“Shit, Falina. Did you give him my home address and social security number too?” I’d lost it, totally jumping off the deep end.
“Isla, what in the hell is wrong with you? He seemed friendly enough. It’s not like he looked like a strung-out druggy. The man looked like a millionaire.”
Try billionaire.
“That’s not the point. Just because he looked wealthy doesn’t mean you should give him information about me when I’m not around. I’m a mother. I have a responsibility to protect my baby. He could be a criminal dressed in fancy clothes… Like the Mafia.” I snapped my mouth shut. Shut up, Isla!
“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point. I screwed up.
It won’t happen again.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry.
” Her apology was heartfelt. I knew deep down she didn’t intentionally want to hurt me.
I was sure she only saw him as a potential husband and father figure for Pippa.
Little did she know, Ciro was not the marrying type.
I inhaled a deep breath. A smidge of remorse festered in me. I hadn’t meant to unload on Falina.
“Look, I know you didn’t mean any harm. But from now on, don’t give out information about me, okay?”
“Sure. I’m sorry.” She smiled softly.
Jeez, I felt awful about freaking out on her. She was a good person and cared about me and Pippa. Regardless, she shouldn’t be giving out her employees’ private information.
“I know. It’s okay.” I formed my words quickly before Falina walked away. “If he comes back, I don’t want to talk to him. So… I might hide out in the kitchen… Okay?”
“Why?” She put her hands on her hips. “Is he dangerous? Do I need to give Chris a heads-up that there might be trouble?”
I looked over at Chris serving a table. In high school, he was a defensive tackle and about the same height as Ciro, six-foot-two frame. But Chris had to be a good thirty pounds heavier. Maybe more.
Ciro wasn’t scrawny by any means. In his youth and during college, he played hockey.
Now, thirty-seven, he worked out daily and watched his diet.
He was strong and fit; with a delicious six-pack I loved to run my tongue between the grooves.
He also had a pair of biceps I clung to when he drilled into me during sex. But that was beside the point.
Dammit! I shouldn’t be thinking about my tongue on Ciro’s body. What I meant was Chris might be able to subdue Ciro if needed due to his extra pounds.
“Maybe a heads-up would be good. Just to be prepared, you know?” I gave her a sheepish grin. I knew anything was possible with Ciro. All he had to do was give Paolo a look and blood would be shed.
Falina nodded, her face tight, and dashed off.
I finished the cup of water, slowing my breathing to calm myself further.
What did Ciro want now? Maybe he knew about Pippa. Or maybe yesterday was a test to see if I’d tell him about her on my own.
My stomach churned and my hands grew clammy.
I failed the test. This was so freaking bad.
Mafia men had a thing about their own blood… and family. Just because Ciro had vowed to never have kids, he had one. Had I been wrong in thinking he wouldn’t care? That what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him?
Oh my God, he’s going to be furious with me!
I retrieved my phone from my apron’s pocket, debating whether to mention Ciro to Alba. Blowing out a deep breath, I decided not to. It would only worry her. My gut told me that Ciro didn’t know about Pippa. I hoped I was right.
Ciro wasn’t in town for the baby. I suspected he came for me. One thing was for sure; I couldn’t let him find out about Pippa. He could take her away from me as punishment for keeping her a secret.
No matter what Ciro said, I wouldn’t let him back into my life. I wouldn’t fall for his charm or his infuriatingly sexy body and stupidly handsome face.
I had moved on. Mostly.
I’m a mother. My child is my priority, and I will stop at nothing to keep her safe.
I didn’t care to deal with a man who couldn’t commit and never wanted marriage or children. What if he resented Pippa? Rejected her?
No, I wouldn’t let him hurt her. He wouldn’t get a chance to abandon her… or me. I’d experienced all the heartbreak with my father, and I’d be damned if I let Ciro do the same thing to my daughter.
“Hey.” A deep voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up into the dark eyes of Chris. “I got you covered.” He issued me a firm nod.
“Thanks. Hopefully, it won’t be necessary.”
“It’s all good either way.” He gave my shoulder a light pat and left.
I watched the burly man collect his order and return to the dining room.
Standing from the bench, I arched my back and rolled my head from side to side to work the kinks from my neck. Just four more hours. I touched my breasts. They were rock hard, painful, and in desperate need of being emptied.
Usually, by this time, I’d be pulling up to Alba’s house and feeding my starving baby on the spot. Not this evening though. Instead, my lovebug would have a bottle.
The thought made my chest ache even more. I went to my locker, grabbed my tote bag with my pumping equipment and rushed to the back room. The sooner I gave my breasts relief, the faster I could get back to work so the time would fly by and I could go home to my baby.
Each time the entrance bell jingled above the door, I took cover behind a customer or ducked in the corner. I had avoided the tables at the front window by switching zones with Chris on the off-chance Ciro and his bodyguard were watching the bistro and… stalking me.
Due to my extreme paranoia, I was exhausted more than before. Thankfully, we were finally closed, and Ciro hadn’t shown up. Momentary relief swept over me, but I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.
Why hadn’t Ciro returned like he told Falina he would? And why in the hell did I feel disappointed?