Chapter Nineteen-Anna
CHAPTER NINETEEN-ANNA
“ I can’t believe it. I mean, you and Angel ,” I whisper, completely shocked.
“Yeah, well, it was a shock to me, too. But obviously, it’s not serious. I mean, I just owed him because of the whole beer in his face incident,” she mumbles.
I start to giggle. I can’t help it. It turns into a fit of full belly laughter, and I snort. I slap my hand over my mouth.
“Oh my God, Anna! Are you snorting at me?”
Giselle shakes her head, but I can tell she wants to laugh, too.
“Oh, Sisi, you should see your face,” I say between laughing and sucking in gulps of air.
I make us a pot of herbal tea, place some cookies on a plate for us to share, and we talk about Sammy. It’s still difficult to think of my little brother as dead, but I know it will get easier with time. At least, I hope it will.
“How are you holding up?” Giselle asks.
“It’s hard, you know. Sammy was a lot, but he was still my brother,” I say tearfully.
She hands me a napkin and moves her chair closer so she can wrap her arm around me.
“You took such good care of him, Anna. Way better than your dad, and I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it when I judge people, but he checked out on the two of you long before you were even an adult. Sammy had plenty of good examples from you, but he made his own decisions.”
“I know, but he died so horribly,” I say, remembering the way he’d crawled to the curb, beaten and bloody the first night I was back from Florida.
“Yes, he did. And I am sorry for that. For him and you, but Anna, there was nothing you could do. I mean, I know you are happy now. I can see it on your face. But I can’t pretend to not know how you got here. Sammy sold you to pay his debt. And that’s fucked up. Mourn your brother, but don’t fool yourself into thinking he was some kind of saint,” she says, and I know she’s right .
Her words sound cold, but she’s just practical. And it is exactly what I needed to hear. I’m still carrying so much guilt for Sammy’s death, it’s like an invisible weight pressing down on me.
This talk helps. The weight is still there, but not like before. I thank Giselle and I hug her, and we both wind up crying in our tea.
We spend the rest of the afternoon swimming in the pool. Then we shower and paint our toenails. I show her the guest room and she teases me about moving in.
I’m having so much fun. Being with Giselle is both nostalgic and refreshing. It feels like the sleepovers we used to have when we were younger.
“Wow, this is amazing,” she says, entering the huge walk-in closet that’s actually bigger than my old bedroom.
I bite my lip as Giselle takes in the racks of designer clothes. Not all of them are maternity, and we spend some time playing an adult version of dress up.
“Are you sure I can borrow this?” she says, eying the price tag on the sexy little black dress she’s tried on.
We’re both curvy girls, though she’s taller and her breasts are bigger than mine. But we basically wear the same size.
The dress is shorter on her than it would be on me, but she fills out to perfection.
“Um, yeah. You look hot,” I tell her, and do a spin in the short chocolate brown swing dress I slipped on.
It’s made of six layers of thin, almost sheer material. Each layer is completely see-through when separated, but together, they are opaque.
“Holy fuck, Anna, who knew pregnant chicks could be that sexy?”
“Shut up,” I say and roll my eyes.
“I am serious. That dress is really beautiful, and it looks fantastic on you,” Giselle replies, and her eyes are wide as she looks me over.
The dress has a deep v that ends just above my swollen belly, showcasing my cleavage and bringing attention to the fact I’m pregnant without making me feel ridiculously unattractive.
In fact, I feel the opposite. She’s right. I feel sexy.
“I really love the color,” I confess.
“It looks great,” she says again.
I’m not someone who needs a lot of compliments to feel good, and I sure as shit am not conceited. But I appreciate my bestie telling me I look good .
I turn and see myself in the mirror, and I’m floored. I am glowing. It’s like what they say about pregnant women looking radiant is actually true.
My skin is golden from all my time swimming in the rooftop pool and the brown color of the dress compliments my tan.
I applied a shimmery moisturizer that makes me feel and smell good. Like vanilla orchids and cocoa butter.
There are tiny glass beads sewn on the neckline and the edges of the cap sleeves, as well as on the bottom of the skirt. The dress falls in flirty little layers around mid-thigh, and I am so glad I can still shave by myself.
When I get bigger, I will probably need help. I bite my lip, wondering if husbands do that for their pregnant wives.
Do they help them shave?
I picture Nico in the shower with me, we’ve taken them together before. But this time I picture him lathering my thighs and calves with thick shave butter and using my razor to take the hair off and, damn, I feel moisture gather between my legs.
Why does that sound so erotic?
I never had a man shave me. But if Nico says yes, I just might let him .
I continue to gnaw on my lip as I slide on a pair of strappy flat sandals and Giselle helps tie them. I still get a little off balance when I lean too far over.
After we style our hair and apply makeup, we are both ready for our prospective dates. But I kind of wish we were going out together.
As if he heard me, my phone chimes and I look to see a text from Nico. I grin at the word husband . He entered his contact info into my phone, and I grin every time I see it.
Husband
Something’s come up and I’m going to be late getting you. Angel can drive you to the Den, so we don’t have to be late for our reservation. Would you be okay with that?
So thoughtful. And the truth is I want to see him so badly, I don’t want to wait either.
Anna
Sure. Is it okay if Giselle comes with me to the Den? I think she has a date or something with Angel later.
Husband
Of course. I can’t wait to see you, Rosebud.
Anna
Awww, you miss me.
Husband
Wife.
Anna
I miss you, too.
He doesn’t reply, and I bite my lip. We never talk about our feelings. But I care deeply for Nico. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.
Angel presses the intercom button and his gruff voice filters through the speaker.
“Are you ladies ready to go?” Angel asks.
I watch Giselle straighten her shoulders, and I raise my eyebrows. She is usually the calm, cool, collected one. But something about Angel makes her nervous.
I only hope this doesn’t end badly. I’d hate to have my best friend feel weird about seeing me if she and Angel don’t work out.
The ride to the Den is quiet, but I catch Angel looking at Giselle’s crossed legs in the short, tight dress she’s borrowed.
She is ignoring him, and I turn my head, so the big man doesn’t see me grin. Okay, fine, so I’m kind of laughing at him.
It’s absurd, but the sexual tension between them is so thick, I swear I can see it.
“Um, did Nico say if he would be there when we get there?” I ask Angel.
“What? Oh, um, no, he didn’t say anything to me,” Angel grumbles.
The drive is fast after that and Angel holds the door open for me, careful to step aside, so absolutely no part of me touches him while I slide out of the tall seat.
But I notice he is there with his hand out, reaching for Giselle before she can get out after me.
Very interesting.
We are parked in an alley behind the club, but it’s paved, and the street is clear of trash and debris. Another hulking security guard stands at a door, holding it open for us.
“After you,” Angel says, and I walk first, Giselle following me.
I remember that hallway as the one I walked in that night I first came to settle my brother’s debts and my heart squeezes.
So much has happened since then.
Sammy is gone .
I don’t have to worry about the bakery anymore.
I’m pregnant.
I’m married.
Hell, I hardly recognize my life anymore. And suddenly, it’s not such a bad thing.
I mean, I wasn’t exactly living life to the fullest before I got involved with Nico. To be honest, I was barely making ends meet.
The bakery is an obligation. Not something I enjoy. And the bakers have been making it difficult to try to do my job there with their constant threats and demands. Ever since Javi came on board things have been worse.
Sure, Nico and I didn’t meet conventionally. But we are together now.
And it just might be the best thing that ever happened to me.