Chapter Eight
Erin
On Monday I am back at the clinic. The news of the dogfighting circle being dismantled and the abusers getting arrested had made the headlines this weekend and Mira sends me an inquisitive glance when she sees me this morning.
I give her one of my blinding smiles and she returns it with one of her own.
I’m not sure if she suspects I was behind the bust, but if she does, she doesn’t ask me.
I’m happy to have distraction at work, taking care of the animals and reassuring their owners.
Weeks go by peacefully and I am enjoying the quiet life with its predictability.
The only excitements are the Sunday brunches at Lily and Damiano’s mansion.
If I’m honest, I look forward to them because I can see Matteo.
He has shown up every week until now and our brunches have turned into a strange dance.
I laugh, I smile, I tease him. He scowls and shoots me down.
But it only makes me more determined to provoke him to see how far I can push him.
His presence is like an electric current traveling over my skin.
Every glance between us feels as if there is something barely contained under the surface waiting to ignite.
I keep telling myself it is my imagination getting the better of me, but my eyes keep circling to him.
And every time my heart does a weird leap in my chest and my breath becomes shallow.
It must be because he’s a sight for sore eyes.
Of course he is. His tall, powerful body is drool-worthy, his face looks like it was chiseled by Michelangelo himself, the angular jaw and high cheekbones softened by full lips that look good enough to nibble on.
But what pulls me in the most is the intensity of his gaze when he focuses it on me.
Every time our gazes collide, I feel like the ground is shifting under my feet.
But the problem is that week after week, I’m getting more restless. I need the tension to break. I want to stop wondering if he is thinking about that night the way I am. But I am also too much of a coward to ask him. So our dance goes on and my frustration grows with every encounter.
This Sunday, I am my usual self, laughing with Lily, Chiara and Lucas, sharing stories about ridiculous pet owners at the clinic and enjoying the warmth of our little circle.
Damiano is his silent self, but sometimes his lips twitch or he brushes a tender kiss over Lily’s temple and I melt at the love I feel between them.
Matteo is there too, leaning back in his chair, silent and brooding like always.
“I never want to set foot into that wretched clinic ever again,” Lucas says with a shudder when I finish recounting my last anecdote.
“Why?” I turn toward him with my brows raised, trying not to laugh out of anticipation when I catch Lily snickering from the corner of my eye.
“I’ll tell you, but you must swear not to tell anyone.”
Now I can’t suppress a laugh. This is definitely going to be good. “I won’t, I promise. Now, do tell what happened there that got you so traumatized.”
He inhales dramatically and starts with a mock-somber voice. “One day I was there to stay with Lily, and there was a lady coming in with her pet chicken.”
We all snort loudly and he goes on. “At some point, that damn beast escaped outside into the gardens, and guess who had to run after it?”
I start to giggle.
“Me!” Lucas wails dramatically, and we all topple over from laughter.
I am now laughing so hard I have to wipe away my tears. “So, did you catch it?” I ask him between fits of wheezing laughter. Lucas shakes his head with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“I was ready to shoot it but it returned inside after a while.”
“So, basically you were outwitted by a chicken?” I hoot, leaning across the table. “Should I give you an appointment at the clinic to have someone check your pride for injuries?”
Everyone erupts in laughter again, even Lucas, who throws up his hands in mock defeat.
“Hey, what can I say? It was a fast chicken.”
“Sure it was,” I tease. Then I turn to Matteo without thinking. “And how about you? Ever been taken down by a farm animal? Maybe chased by an enraged goat or—”
My words cut off when I see his clearly not amused expression. He is not smiling, and his gaze pins me in place, heavy and unreadable.
I take a sip of orange juice to hide my sudden awkwardness.
“No,” he finally says in a low and grim voice. “I don’t run.”
Everyone’s smile falters and my face heats. I mutter something about him not being fun to laugh it off, but the moment is gone and an uneasy silence settles around the table. I shoot him a discreet glare for ruining the mood, but he merely watches me with his impassive eyes.
God, this man is infuriating.
Chiara’s sweet voice pipes up. “So, Lily, tell us more about next week’s charity gala. Is everything ready? Do you need help?”
The tension in my shoulders eases and I welcome the change of subject like a lifeline.
Lily brightens immediately, her hands fluttering as she launches into the rundown of the preparations.
“We’re in the final stretch now—everything is booked and confirmed, from the venue to the catering.
We’ve also got donations pouring in for the silent auctions, designer handbags, a weekend getaway and even a commissioned portrait of the winning bidder’s pet. ”
“That’s adorable!” Chiara coos excitedly.
“I know.” Lily grins, excitement written all over her face. “It’s going to be perfect.”
Then she turns to me. “And you, Erin, are going to be in charge of charming the animal lovers into spending big.”
Lucas chuckles from across the table. “If Erin is involved, the people don’t stand a chance, she’ll have them adopt blind, three-legged chihuahuas before dessert is served.”
I laugh and stick out my tongue at him. “Or maybe I’ll make them adopt chickens, they make great pets and they are fast, as some people say.”
Lucas shudders and we all laugh, the awkwardness from earlier a distant memory.
I take another sip of my juice and focus on Lily as she outlines the seating chart and last-minute preparation.
But even though I try to pretend he’s not there, I can still feel Matteo’s gaze searing into the side of my face and I have to refrain from turning to look at him.
Instead, I laugh and smile, feeling the excitement of the gala taking hold.
“You know what?” Lily claps her hands. “We girls should go dress shopping together. Let’s do it this week.”
Chiara and I happily agree, and we make plans to meet after my work shift this Wednesday.
When I leave, I am buzzing with a strange mix of excitement and nerves.
The gala is less than a week away and it is going to be big.
Bigger than anything I’ve ever attended.
I’m more used to crowded bars and clubs with music loud enough to overhaul my heartbeat than lavish ballrooms with string quartets and champagne.
Then the memory of Matteo shutting me down crashes back, uninvited and grating at my already frayed nerves. I can already picture him in that ballroom, darkly handsome in his dark suit and, of course, entirely in his element.
God, he is maddening .