Chapter Thirteen #2
She wore an oversized sweater tucked upward to showcase half of her stomach and waist. Her legs were covered with white oversized pants, and she wore white boots. Like she was preparing to go out, with a stylish pair of glasses resting perfectly atop her hair.
Soldiers rushed after her like they were trying to stop her, but it was too late; she was already here.
“Oh.” She grinned, looking around us as everyone at the table turned to look at her; soldiers around the lounge stepped forward in a move to contain her. “The boy band together again. No wonder these gentlemen didn’t want me in here.”
One of the soldiers moved to grab her hand, but she was quick to swing it from his reach, turning her gaze to his. “Touch me and lose a hand. I am skilled when it comes to mutilating; remember that.”
I sighed, raising my hand to put them at ease.
“What is the meaning of this?” Casmiro spoke loudly, his voice laced with anger and irritation.
Zahra turned toward us again, approaching with a carefree grin, hips swaying, her confidence at its peak.
“Hi, Cassie, I see you’re back and feeling better; I did not miss seeing you healthy, just so you know,” she said, slapping his shoulder before raising her gaze to Angelo.
“Hi, Angie.” She acknowledged him with a smile before her bright eyes settled on Armato, who looked confused at the change in the situation. “Hi, man I don’t know.”
And then she moved behind me, her arms coming around my shoulders in a hug from behind, lips smacking against my cheek.
“Hola, my pretty-eyed boyfriend who never checks his phone for text messages, thereby forcing me to go through the extra hassle of coming all the way here, interrupting his meeting, for which he cannot get angry at me because I texted almost ten times. I think my thumb broke.”
“Boy—what?” Casmiro asked with a wide-eyed, horrified look on his face.
“What’s the matter, Cassie? Gunshots messed with your ears?” she asked, her voice closer to my ear, her perfume softening my senses.
“E, what the fuck is this?” Casmiro asked, spine straight, ready to tackle the trouble behind me.
I let out a breath, dropping the pen as I removed her arms from around me, pulling her to my side and meeting her stubborn gaze. “Can you come back another time? I am in the middle of—”
“Nope, there’s a getaway boat waiting to take us to the city; I booked it this morning after texting you about coming with me to get a tattoo done.”
“What the fuck is happening right now?” Casmiro asked.
“Zahra,” Angelo spoke up, “if you could, please read the room and return when Marino is—”
“I am not canceling my plans,” she stated in a firm voice.
I held her wrist. “Zahra—”
“I am still not canceling my plans.”
I turned to the table. “If you would … give me a moment. I apologize for the interruption,” I said, getting to my feet and pulling her with me toward the small door that led to the main suite.
“I am not apologizing.”
“Okay, but stop being a nuisance, and put yourself away; when I am done here, I will come to you.”
Her brows twitched, offended. “Right, I am being a nuisance for taking the whole morning, planning this fucking little trip so that we could go to the city together as a thank-you for being kind to my friends and getting to know them.”
“That was—”
“It doesn’t matter; I’ll go alone,” she said, already turning, but I pulled her sharply back, seeing as my hand was still around her wrist. She glared at me. “Punching you in front of the people who answer to you will not be a good picture for your boy band yearbook. Let me go.”
“I do not disregard your efforts. You only arrived at the wrong time. It was a bit disrespectful on your part that you ignored—”
“Do I look like I give a shit?”
I heard Casmiro curse from behind me.
“Por favor, Zahra, wait for me; I’ll be done here in a few minutes—”
“Twenty minutes, or I’m gone.”
“Thirty.”
“Twenty-five.”
“Thirty-five.”
She groaned, her gaze flicking behind me to the table, a frown on her neatly trimmed brows before she looked back at me. “Who’s the sweaty guy with the receding hairline?”
“Someone.”
“Oh no, secret stuff I can’t know about,” she said, her voice flat as I let go of her wrist. “Are the cats in the living room?”
“No.”
“Fine, thirty minutes. Any more, and I’m out of here, with or without you.”
“Thank you,” I told her as my eyes took her in again. “You look amazing. Brighter than usual.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line before widening it into a smile. “I know, but I mostly look brighter because I have a”—she tilted her head to the side, increasing her pitch level so everyone would hear—“boyfriend who is fucking me right!”
Casmiro groaned.
Zahra’s grin faded into a glare. “Thirty minutes.” And then she walked back the way she’d come in, and closed the door behind her.
A little mortified, irritated, and regretful, I returned to the table and took my seat.
“I apologize again,” I said.
“Oh no.” Armato laughed. “I understand; my wife gets into moods like that; you can never tell with our women these days.”
I did not return his amusement; my stare remained blank, and his smile faded.
“Where were we?” I asked, picking up the pen, not looking at Casmiro because I knew he was frowning and would love nothing more than to bombard me with questions and unwanted opinions.
I signed on both spaces indicated, closed the file, and passed it to Angelo.
“Do not forget to pass on my message to your chairman, Armato.”
“I won’t forget,” he replied with a firm nod.
A few minutes later, Angelo was escorting him out. The moment they were gone and the soldiers around us had reduced in number, Casmiro attacked me with questions.
“What the hell was that? You’re in a relationship with her?”
“Yes.”
His eyes widened. “Have you gone insane?”
“No.” I frowned.
“She’s trouble.”
“I am aware.”
He groaned in frustration. “I am only looking out for you, E. You saw the ruckus she almost caused today.”
Sighing, I rubbed my eyes behind the reading glasses. “I tamed it.”
“Still, you have to draw a line; what she did was unacceptable.”
I nodded. “I will talk to her.”
“Why are you responding like you don’t care about anything I’m saying?”
I leveled him with a tired stare. “It’s because you are repeating things I already know, hermano. I appreciate your care, but you must also show her respect—”
He looked offended, appalled. “Like hell I will.”
I softened my voice. “She is my partner now.”
“And I am still convinced she tried to fucking kill me.”
“Casmiro,” I started, and he grumbled, shaking his head, not supporting my decision.
“I won’t ask you to understand. The two of you certainly do not like each other for reasons best kept between you.
I do not want to get involved because I care about both of you.
But understand that she’s a part of my life now, and you’re also a part of my life, and you will have to tolerate it. ”
He looked like he wanted to peel my words out of the air before they reached him. “What about your brother?”
“He is learning to tolerate it.”
“God.” He shook his head, remaining quiet for a few minutes before shaking his head again.
“This is…” He trailed off, allowing another stretch of silence.
“It’s none of my business, who you date, but I swear to God, one concrete piece of evidence against her, and I’m pulling this whole issue of my distrust back up, alongside a permanent solution to it. ”
“I understand.”
“Good,” he said, hands going to the other files on the table. “Now about the other matters—”
“We … will have to postpone that for another time … because she’s in there … waiting.”
“This is work, political work, that you roped me into, and now I am swimming in endless fucking minutes of meetings that I have to oversee and find solutions to. I am talking about areas that require urgent attention; I need your expertise.”
My gaze shifted toward the door before falling back to Casmiro. “I want nothing more than to sit down and discuss politics with you, but that woman in there will not understand, and I—”
He shot to his feet.
“Casmiro.”
“Let me know when you’re free,” he said, gathering all the papers without meeting my eyes, turning to leave before stopping, pinning a glare on the door, and then looking back at me. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
With a shake of his head and much hesitation, he made his way out of the lounge area.
I allowed a breath to fall through my lips as I looked back at the door. I knew why he acted this way. I knew he was feeling betrayed, wondering why I wasn’t doing more to get into the matter of his attack.
“I am still convinced she tried to fucking kill me.”
Casmiro’s voice replayed in my head, but I suppressed it. Suppressed his worry, buried the tight feeling in my gut.
I am wrong. My gut is wrong this time. My mind has compromised my gut, and my mind is unstable, so there is a 7.5 percent chance that I am wrong.
I held onto that percentage. I held onto it tight.
“Sorry about the cheap car rental,” Zahra said from the driver’s seat of the 2010 Toyota Camry, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on a cup of coffee we had stopped to get while we waited for the car.
She didn’t accept my offer to pay for anything, so I let her handle it to avoid another argument.
“Street and I spent a lot of money on the suite and the other cruise expenses.”
I didn’t respond; my focus was on my phone as I responded to Gemma’s text with a frown.
Me:
This is what I keep talking about. Your carelessness and naivety. I care about you, which is why I will not tolerate situations that will inevitably hurt you in the near future.
Gemma (blonde car highway):
Omg, relax, my love, it’s harmless, just one date.