Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
The Finer Things
Chiara
“There she is!” shrieks Stella from where she’s perched at the bar in Le Sip.
I blow air kisses and wave like I’m walking the red carpet, really playing into the celebrity treatment she’s giving me.
I haven’t lost the shadow that is Avery. I told him I would be fine with the girls and to take the night off, but no deal. Instead, he’s taken himself over to a booth to give us some privacy.
“Oh my God, girl. Those boots are amazing!”
“Why thank you! Tyler the sexy cowboy gifted them to me for being his dance partner for the Cowboy Cha Cha,” I say, leaning over to hug her then Evie.
“You went line dancing?” Evie says gleefully.
“Well, when in Texas,” I say, doing a few steps of the dance.
“I need to see footage otherwise it didn’t happen,” says Evie.
I pull out my phone and show her.
“Umm, that man has moves,” says Evie, fanning her face. “And one hundred percent Riley Green energy. Something about a man in Wrangler jeans and a cowboy hat.”
Stella snatches the phone from me and zooms in on the video. “Umm, tell me after the PG version you did the R-rated Cowboy Cha Cha.”
“No, as easy as it would’ve been to mount him—I just…” Can’t cheat on my husband.
“Prefer to ride a broody, tailored-suit-wearing Italian stallion,” Stella finishes with a smirk.
“I mean, I do love me a tall, dark, handsome man in a suit.” I laugh at the image her description conjures.
“How was it? I’m obsessed with that show,” says Stella.
“It was exhausting and exhilarating! So much fun to see them in character for the show, styled for the different publicity shoots where they take on another persona, and then actually get to hang out with some of them as themselves.”
“Oh, Sophia will be champing at the bit to hear every detail. She always dreamed of being a photographer,” says Evie. “But the pull to be a lawyer was too strong.”
“Let’s be real, familial expectations had a bit to do with that,” adds Stella. “Though I feel like she’s finding career satisfaction in working this case against Arty, and I’m super proud of her.”
“I feel bad having a girls’ night behind her back,” I say.
“Ah, there is my little wildcat,” comes a new voice, the French accent instantly telling me it’s Juliette.
I haven’t been to Le Sip or seen Juliette since that night we were here before the art show.
My feelings towards her are a mixed bag.
She was once the fuck buddy for the man I want to claim as mine, but also the same woman who told me to give him hell.
So I’m somewhere in between love to hate her and I hate that I love her.
More so the latter given she’s rounding the bar with an Amaretto sour, my favorite, and a big smile on her face like we’re old friends.
“The girls tell me you’re roommates with Mr. Grumpy,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “Did you take my advice?” And technically his name…
“To this very day.” I laugh and hop on the stool, taking a sip of my drink. “We’re currently in a roomies-with-no-benefits situation-ship.” Because he’s still in denial about being legally wed.
I feel like a crazy lady having an entire conversation parallel to the actual conversation and wonder if my face is betraying me.
“Please tell me you’ve sampled the goods at least?”
I feel my cheeks burn because I sure did, and while I have zero shame talking about my sex life, I feel like I owe my husband a little respect by not discussing his goods.
“Good for you. I don’t need the details,” she says with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he would appreciate you respecting that he’s a private man.”
I dip my head in a nod, appreciating that she’s letting me off the hook.
“I will be back, girls. There is a very dashing man with sexy glasses who appears to be thirsty,” she says with a wink.
There’s only one man with sexy glasses I know. I turn to follow where she’s going, and sure enough it appears Mr. Strong and Silent has captured Juliette’s attention. He could use a little fun, I think, smiling to myself before turning back to Evie, who’s snapped into organization mode.
“I know you just got off a plane, but Marco has confirmed operation proposal is happening next Saturday” says Evie.
“The ring is literally burning a hole in his underwear drawer,” I reply with a laugh.
“Seb’s closing down Bella Donna, and we’ve booked caterers and a styling company to set up the VIP area for a beautiful dinner,” explains Evie. “Then we’ll open the dance floor later. Just immediate friends, family, and some close acquaintances.”
“Will Luca still be here?” asks Stella. “The season starts soon.”
“Oh, hello there, Miss F1 expert,” I say. “How is Mr. Impenetrable?”
“How does one say, he’s an expert at handling tight corners,” she says, biting her lip and running her hands down the sides of her body.
“Stella! He’s a client,” hisses Evie.
“Uh-uh,” Stella tuts, holding up her finger.
“Was. Zane Lemaire was a client. We went out at the completion of our contract as friends to celebrate him completing the program I designed for him. And then he totally reprogrammed my brain chemistry with his magical tongue and monster cock. Oh. My. God,” she says fanning herself.
“Can confirm F1 drivers have stamina. Anyway, I digress. What is my job for Operation Engagement Party?”
“I can’t believe I’m about to entrust this task to you…” says Evie, side-eyeing her other best friend. “Do you think you can emcee the night and write the speech—but you need to keep it PG. Please no jokes about Marco’s magical tongue or the size of his manhood.”
“You are the biggest party pooper,” Stella says, blowing a raspberry at Evie. “Surely I can say Sophia was dick-ma-tized by Marco from the first moment she laid eyes on what he was packing.”
“Hard no.”
“Well, it was actually a hard something that started it all. But fine, Mom, I’ll keep it all above the waist.”
“Chiara, I’d love for you to get some photos of them that night. There will be lots of beautiful flowers and styled areas you can use, but really I think the more candid the better.”
“Can do! I love event photography. Capturing all the different people and their emotions when they don’t know I’m there. Actually...” I say, remembering the black envelope. “Sorry I missed that event you sent me an invite to. I misplaced the envelope before I left for Texas.”
“Which event?” she asks, looking confused.
“I’m not sure. I asked Raf to open the envelope and he told me I’d missed the RSVP and event.”
“Hmm, maybe someone from my team sent it. I’ll check. But not me.”
She’s usually on top of every little thing, so something is not adding up here.
I’ll check when I get home, I think before I order one more drink.
Perks of having a driver and a personal bodyguard, I muse and continue my catch-up session with my girls.
A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads across my chest. I’m living the life I’ve always dreamed of—including the house and the handsome, hot, rich husband—even if that is just a matter of circumstance, and I’m giving myself permission to buy the delusion. For now, at least.
Keying in the door code, I smile to myself as I take note of the soft glow of the porch light, making the task a helluva lot easier.
Raf—AKA Big Bad Raf AKA Law Daddy as I like to call him—will never admit it, but I’m going to chalk this up to one of the small ways my husband shows he’s more thoughtful than he lets on.
It also tells me he’s home, and that sends a little thrill coursing through me.
It’s been almost a month since we’ve seen each other between his travel and mine.
Quietly pulling off my new cowboy boots, I reflect on my girls’ night with Evie and Stella.
Without a doubt, another good thing to come out of the ups and downs of the last few months is finding the type of friendship I’ve always craved.
The ride-or-die type that only comes with having a girl gang that has your back no matter what.
Even though I’ve known them all for a short time, it feels like a lifetime.
I guess watching someone at the core of a friendship group that feels like found family—who had no idea he was your cousin—taking a bullet will make you form friends really fucking fast. Tonight was our first girls’ night out since the art exhibition.
I was sad that I didn’t get to see Sophia, but seeing the result of our secretive meetup will be all worth it next week when Marco finally puts the final part of his plan in play.
A smile tugs on my mouth when I think of how those two are truly the epitome of soulmates.
I still hold out hope that one day I’ll have that type of unwavering love.
Holding my boots in my hand, I check the kitchen then the lounge room, but he’s not there.
I pad barefoot up the hall to his room. Also empty, but I inhale deeply, breathing him in, his spicy cologne with the merest hint of something sweet.
Just like the man himself. It’s comforting, like that feeling that washes over you when you return home from a holiday and the promise of sleeping in your bed again awaits.
I continue my journey towards his den—the one room he requested I stay out of.
It’s where he retreats before he turns in for the night, even on those when he’s coming in past midnight.
I’m quiet on approach, hoping I can catch him unaware, praying he won’t turn me away, because I really fucking missed him and I didn’t realize how much until this very moment where his smell, his presence, and anticipation swirl like cotton candy being spun on a stick.