Chapter 25
Rhett
“What a day,” I say, walking into the hotel suite.
I drop all the bags filled with clothing I’m holding and walk up to my girl. Carina is sitting curled up on the couch in a plush hotel white robe, nursing a glass of white wine.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.” I lean forward and drop a kiss on the top of her head. “You took a shower or a bath without me?”
She looks up at me. “I haven’t yet.”
“Good.” I sit next to her. “We’ll take one together.” I caress her bare legs. “Want to hear about my day?”
“Sure.”
“You New Yorkers are somethin’ else.”
She offers me a small smile.
“I’m warning you right now, Basil, the photographer, is eccentric. The whole crew is. Honestly, I’ve never felt more exposed in my life. I was practically naked on the set. And if I had to hear the word sexy one more time, I swear, I was going to scream.”
I’m yappin’ a mile a minute. The surge of excitement from the eventful day is still running rampant through my veins.
“Oh, wow.”
Her voice is flat and her blue eyes are missing their usual spark.
“Basil must’ve taken five hundred photos, but he assures me only a handful will make the cut.”
“Good.”
She seems an ocean away.
“He offered me two complimentary photos for my new website. I wouldn’t be surprised if he extends you the same favor. And, I get to keep the clothing. I’m sure it’s because they lathered so much oil and glitter on my body no one will ever want to wear that stuff ever again.”
“Good.”
“It’s nice clothing, too. They’re even throwing in the designer underwear.”
“Lucky you.”
“It gets better.”
“Does it?”
“They’re forking out the money for the dry cleaning while I’m here in New York.”
“Good.”
Enough. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she says, averting her gaze.
I give her knee a squeeze, forcing her attention to me. “Why do I sense you’re lying?”
“I’m not. You said something about oil and glitter. Do you need to take a shower before we go out to dinner?”
“I already took one, but I most likely will take another one to make sure I wash out all the crap they put in my hair. What time are your folks expecting us?”
She lifts her gaze to the ceiling. “The concierge recommended an excellent Cuban restaurant not far.”
“What?”
She meets my confused stare. “A restaurant where they serve Cuban food.”
“Carina, do you actually think I don’t know that? Just because I’m from small town Texas doesn’t mean I’m a hick. I’m not that much of a hillbilly.” I chuckle. “Why are we going to a Cuban restaurant?”
“Because we need to eat,” she says in a matter-of-fact way.
“What happened to us having dinner with your folks?”
She shrugs. “They already had plans.”
“Fair enough. Maybe we should’ve given them a heads-up.”
“Maybe.” She takes a long sip of her wine.
She’s acting weird.
“I know we’re having dinner with your friend Veronica tomorrow night, but maybe we can stop by your folks’ after or maybe we can make plans to meet with them the day after if they can’t tomorrow. We still have three days in New York City. It would be great to see them before we leave.”
“The restaurant business can be so unpredictable. They’re not sure they’re going to be available while we’re here.”
“What about your brothers?”
“They’re in the same boat. And most have young children. They barely have time to sleep as it is.”
She’s not making any sense.
“Are you telling me your folks don’t even have ten minutes to meet with their own daughter, and your brothers can’t carve up a little time for their sister?”
She folds her lips between her teeth.
“Carina.” I shake her leg.
She stares at me.
“What’s going on? And don’t tell me nothing because I ain’t buying it.”
“I met with my parents this morning.”
“That’s great news. How did it go?”
“It was interesting,” she says with a heavy sigh.
“In what sense?”
“It’s a long story. In any case, go jump in the shower so we can go out to dinner.”
Something’s up.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Her shoulders rise and fall. “Noth––” My hard expression stops her.
She looks away.
I place my fingers underneath her chin and force her to meet my gaze.
“Talk to me, Carina.”
“It’s…” She lets her words hang and shakes her head with her lips pursed tight together. It’s as if she’s having a conversation with herself.
What the hell?
“Well…” Another head shake.
“Well, what—” Realization thuds like a hammer blow as humiliation washes over me. My head jerks back, my eyes widening. “They don’t want to meet me? Is that it?”
“They’re… it’s just a little busy right now.”
“Hmph.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I may not be world-traveled, but I know when I’m getting the brush off.”
She leans forward and places a hand on my arm. “That’s not it.”
“What is it then?”
“Everything in New York is go, go, go. Everyone is biting off more than they can chew.”
“That’s the best you can come up with?” I’m almost insulted by her dismissive response.
“Rhett––”
I lift a hand. “Let me guess. They’re envisioning a carbon copy of Stefano, minus the douche bag factor and the skanky Cardi baby mama, for their only daughter.
” Irritation fires inside of me. “I don’t have a family business to latch onto.
Heck, I don’t even have a family. And I sure as hell don’t have a shiny degree from an Ivy League school.
I’m just a simple country boy. No trust funds.
No suit-worthy career. No fancy wheels. No multimillion-dollar penthouse in Uptown Manhattan––”
“Upper Manhattan or just Uptown.”
“I can’t even get that right.” I rake my hand through my hair, tugging on the strands. “How the hell am I supposed to ever be able to afford a home there?”
“I didn’t mean to––”
“I work with horses because I had to walk away from my dream career. I don’t measure up? Is that it? Did I get it right?”
She closes her eyes. “It’s just dinner, Rhett.” The words come out strained.
I release a frustrated sigh. “No, Carina. It’s everything.”