14. Lorde
Lorde
I t’s a balmy evening as I have dinner with Angus, who has returned from a two-week trip to the Caribbean to do nothing but flirt with beautiful women day in and day out.
(And drink a ton of rum, I’m sure.) He had invited me before he left.
In the old days, I would have happily gone, at least for part of the time.
Yet with Daisy DeMonte consuming my thoughts? I couldn’t.
He spends most of our dinner talking about this woman and that young lady with some rather randy visuals.
Luckily, the breeze is blowing his words in the other direction of other diners.
I’ve spent most of the time thinking about what happened with Daisy two days ago, anyway.
We may not have gone as nuts as I initially wanted, but it left me with such a warmed heart that listening to bestie talk is in no way appealing anymore.
Angus naturally catches on to this and asks me what’s up.
“You’ve got to face the facts,” Angus says while downing his second beer of the evening. “Her father’s marrying her off to some sleazebag and would make your life hell if you intervened. I know you want to be with her, and she doesn’t want to be with that other guy, but…”
“I know,” I grumble. “Believe me, I know!” I’ve spent more than my fair share of time trying to come up with a solution for Daisy’s dilemma. “But it’s…”
“No, girl.” Whoa, where did that stern voice come from?
So not like Angus. I don’t like it. “Listen, at the end of the day, she’s another fling.
I know she’s gorgeous, funny, a good time…
I know you keep thinking about her, but there are so many girls out there.
You’ll find someone else. It’s best to cut her loose and let her fight her family in a way she knows how.
It’s the 21 st century. She doesn’t have to marry someone she doesn’t want to. ”
“But…” Angus can fuck right off, yeah? “I don’t want anyone else.”
It’s true. All I want is Daisy. The Italian beauty with legs for miles, silky soft hair, and a pouty, feisty mouth that’s always begging me to kiss it.
“The only way you could make this work is if you convinced her father of that. You’re not exactly the upstanding country club guy a man like Marcello DeMonte is going to want for his only daughter.
You’d have to do more than convince him to give you a shot.
You’ll have to charm him into thinking you’re already family. And, you know, the whole gay thing.”
As if the Heavens have opened up and God has stricken me with a bolt of creativity, I’ve got the craziest idea in the world.
It’s a long shot, but it might work.
“Hey, Angus, I’ve gotta go.” I slap some money down on the table before grabbing my jacket and slipping out of my seat. “There’s something I need to do.”
He grins. “You’re a goner, girl. Good luck. I’ll come to your funeral when DeMonte is done having his bodyguards maul you to death. Maybe it’ll count as a hate crime!”
“She’s worth it.” I jog to the valet. I need to get to the jewelry store before it closes and I lose my nerve.
My plan involves a very expensive ring. I hope I know Daisy’s tastes well enough!