Chapter 17
MADDIE
"Maddie!"
A handsome man standing outside the elegant entrance of our hotel's La Dolce Vita restaurant calls my name. Yet it isn't until I edge closer that I realize it's Rio.
The rockstar's wearing a midnight blue jacket that makes him look chic and eccentric. Like Hugh Hefner from the swinging sixties.
A triangle of his signature black bandana peeks out from his jacket's breast pocket.
"Well, well," I quip. "Sullen rockstar this morning, shiny lounge lizard this evening. You clean up nicely."
"Fancy words for a simple guy, Schoolmarm," he says, flashing his characteristic grin. He reaches past the carrier's netting to stroke Snorty's face.
"How is the little guy doing? I bet he is ready for a big old Italian steak, aren't you, boy?"
Snorty yips with excitement.
Antoine pops out from the shadows to shake Rio's hand. "You both look camera ready. Marco and Ben are already stationed inside.”
Marco will be taking still photographs, while Ben will be operating the video camera. Make sure you annunciate so you can be heard clearly."
"Video? For what? A documentary?" I ask.
"Perhaps. Right now, we're just going to use the video as snippets for social media."
When the Ma?tre D' shows us to our table, I notice guests turning to watch us.
It could be because Rio Wilder is a famous name. Even in his retro silk jacket, he gives off those sexy Rio vibes.
But with a jolt I realize that people also gaze at me.
I'm far from the 'schoolmarm' who entered this hotel earlier this morning. My silky blonde hair brushes against my shoulders. And the lingerie Antoine gifted me feels naughty beneath my dress.
My nipples tingle as I wonder if Rio can even guess I'm wearing such provocative undies. Antoine assured me that any man could sense the secret.
"Would your dog prefer to dine at the table, or should we make this a romantic duo?" the Ma?tre D' inquires after he pulls out my chair.
"Family affair tonight," Rio declares with a saucy wink at me. He speaks loudly enough for Ben to capture his words on video. "Please make a place for dear Snorty at the table."
Snorty yips with delight as a waiter seats him gently in a booster seat.
"Look at that," says Rio, sounding pleased.
"He's wearing a replica of my bandana! But if you're going to give him the 'Rio signature look,' you've got to tie the knot the right way. Like so," he says, retying my knot so it flares around Snorty's neck in a jaunty fashion.
Though my Frenchie is notoriously fussy, he sits still while Rio makes the adjustment.
Marco snaps his photographs while Rio performs this act of grooming.
"You don't mind my dog sitting with us, do you, darling?" I ask loud enough for Ben to capture the question on his video camera.
"Snorty is part of our little family," Rio replies easily, flashing that thousand-watt smile at the camera lens.
The preset menu arrives. Snorty digs snout-first into a miniature version of steak tartare, while Rio and I enjoy the human equivalent.
Aware of the cameras on us, Rio and I pretend to chat politely and fake a smile at the lens.
"This is torture," I whisper, as I lift a fork to my lips. "I feel like Louis XIV."
"Why is that?" Rio asks, sounding genuinely curious.
"Louis XIV ate elaborate ten-course meals every day while his courtiers watched. Like a performance."
Rio chuckles. "Spoken like a true schoolmarm."
Marco and Ben circle, capturing our "flirty" exchange. Rio glances at Antoine.
"Hey, can we take a break? This constant grinning is killing me."
"Sure," Antoine says. "We will pick up at dessert. Enjoy your meals."
He gestures for the camera crew to follow him out, leaving us in relative privacy.
I exhale, glancing at Snorty. He is sleepy after his rich appetizer, head resting on the crisp white tablecloth, snoring comfortably.
"Look at the little guy," I say, running my fingers over his silky fur.
To my surprise, Rio watches with a flicker of tenderness. His charm is slipping through again.
"What made you decide to get a dog?"
I shrug, smiling at the memory. "It was a late-night commercial—shelter dogs facing the end if not adopted. 'First in, first out,' the commercial said.”
I pause.
“The lady held Snorty up in her palm. He was so tiny. I knew right then I had to save him."
The Ma?tre D' comes by to present the main course for our inspection.
"While this is being grilled, may I ask if you would like wine with your dinner?"
"None for me," says Rio.
"Maddie, wine?"
I decline as well. When the Ma?tre D' leaves, I look at Rio in astonishment.
"The rockstar quit drinking?"
"Yeah," Rio says, leaning back in his chair. "It was getting out of hand. The New Orleans gig proved it."
"Why did it start?" I ask, then put a hand to my lips. "Sorry. That was rude."
"No," he says quietly. "It is fair. Steve probably told you my mom died a few months back. She was everything to me."
He pauses, then looks up at me. "Bet you never expected a guy like me to admit he is a momma’s boy."
I laugh and put my hand on his. "A man who loves his mother is not a momma’s boy."
"Yeah, well, she was my biggest fan."
I smile. "My mom is my biggest fan, too. Adores Steve, of course."
"I met her once. Nice woman."
I nod. "Yep."
I feel a sudden sting in my eyes and brush it away quickly.
"You’re crying? What is wrong?"
"Nothing. Sorry. She has been complaining she feels dizzy the last few months. Steve and I encouraged her to take off work and see a doctor."
"Did she?"
"Yes. But the results from the test have not come back yet. Like most kids, I always thought my mom was immortal. Now, hearing your story about your own mother, I realize she is not."
"Losing my mother was the worst. It was completely unexpected." He runs a finger along the stem of his water glass.
"I am just glad I got to spend time with her in the last few years. I took her on some pretty fun vacations. We went to the Caribbean. I even took her on a cruise, just the two of us."
"I am sure she loved that."
"She did," he says.
"But two years of time and attention doesn't make up for what a jerk I was to her in high school and college. She didn't want to date men. She didn't have many friends. Just me. And back then, I didn't do right by her."
I look up at him, studying his face. "You are very sensitive," I say slowly. "Funny. I have known you almost all my life and I never suspected that."
Rio says nothing. Just shrugs.
"You are actually a very compassionate person," I add.
"I try," he says, looking up at me with a sly grin. "On a blue moon."
I pull my hand back. The air suddenly feels heavy with things unsaid. It feels like the right time to have some real talk.
"Did you ever wonder why I have avoided you these last few years?" I ask.
He picks up a fork and fiddles with it instead of meeting my eyes. "Yeah. I figured you had your reasons."
"You tried to rape me."
Rio drops the fork. It clatters loudly against the china.
Then he looks up at me, a wild, uncomprehending look in his black eyes. "What?! When?!"
"Four years ago," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "When I fell asleep in your dorm room. I woke up and you were on top of me."
"That night?" The color drains from Rio’s face. "We discussed it. You made a surprise visit. Why would I know it was you in that bed?"
"Then who were you expecting?"
"No one!" he insists, leaning forward. "Look Maddie, girls used to sneak into our room every night. Steve and I were hot guys in a popular band that played all over town. Who was I to turn them away? Especially if it was what the girl wanted."
When I don't respond, he speaks again.
"I remember being drunk. I saw blonde hair on my pillow. I thought you were a groupie waiting for me."
He leans forward, his eyes intense. "But the second—the second—you screamed, I stopped. Didn't I?"
I hold his gaze. The memory is fuzzy with panic, but he is right.
"You stopped," I admit. "But you scared me, Rio. You terrified me."
"I was a disaster back then," he says, his voice rough. "Young, stupid, full of piss and vinegar. But Maddie, you have to believe me. I had no idea it was you. My best friend's little sister? I never would have touched you."
He looks me dead in the eye. "I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
The anger I have been holding onto for four years deflates, leaving something softer in its place. He wasn't a monster targeting me. Like Antoine said, it was just a misunderstanding.
My hand finds his again. This time, he turns it and gives mine a gentle squeeze.
"Think you might consider forgiving this bad boy rocker?" he asks, his voice low and hopeful.
Rio's thumb brushes my knuckles, warm and steady.
"Maybe. If you ask nicely."
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear the orchestral swell. Couples around us get up to go to the dance floor. But I am too focused on looking into the eyes of my bad boy prince.
Buzz.
Rio’s phone vibrates on the table, shattering the moment like glass.
He glances at the screen and grimaces. "Damn. It is Keith. The band's rehearsing and want me there."
He pulls his hand away from mine, the warmth vanishing instantly. "I have to go."
"Will you walk me to our suite first?"
"Of course. With pleasure."