Chapter 28 #2
It’s dark and lush and opulent. The drama of it seems over the top and makes me even more nervous about meeting the famed director.
“Sebastian!”
An attractive older couple approaches us. The large, slightly rounded man I recognize as Dario Mancini greets my former boss, engulfing him in a hug. While the director looks pleased to see him, Sebastian’s face is tight, his eyes flat.
I turn to the smiling woman at his side, who I suspect is the director’s wife.
Her olive skin is tanned, and she exudes health, energy, and graceful aging that’s almost never seen in LA, where age is something to be fought against with every dollar one has.
She’s wearing a peacock-blue blouse that drapes over her trim figure and pressed white jeans.
Her silver curls tumble over her shoulders and down her back.
Even casual, she looks wealthy, in that understated way that only the very rich can be.
But her smile is warm.
“My sweet boy is all grown up,” the woman says and embraces Sebastian in another hug.
At first, he looks taken aback, and then he closes his eyes and returns her embrace tentatively.
She pulls away, takes the sides of his head in her hands, and gazes at him for a long moment.
“We’ve missed you. It’s been years. Why haven’t you returned our calls? ” she asks, narrowing her gaze.
For a minute, I see something stark in Sebastian’s eyes, and then they shutter. “It’s been busy…” He turns to me.
Mrs. Mancini must interpret his look differently because her expression lightens. “You have been busy. You’re engaged now! We thought this day would never happen. We’re so happy for you both.”
“Meet Emma Reynolds, my… fiancée,” Sebastian says. His voice catches on the word. If we were in private, I’d kick him because for a famous actor, he’s really not very good at this.
Luckily, she doesn’t notice the awkwardness.
“Emma, welcome to our home, dear. I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Mancini. I’m looking forward to that also.”
“Please. Call me Maricella. And congratulations on your engagement.”
Sebastian turns toward us and slings an arm around me.
My whole side lights up in reaction. He leans down, and my breath catches.
I feel a kiss in my hair, soft as a breeze.
His lips linger, while I tremble in tingling awareness of his body.
And he touches my hand briefly, brushing the ring, as if assuring himself it’s there.
I have an overwhelming urge to turn into him, to memorize his every sinew and muscle.
For just a second, I let my eyes close, savoring the warmth from being enveloped in his firm embrace.
And then he steps back, and I’m left with cold air at my side.
I blink, struggling to regain my equilibrium.
“Yes, congratulations to the two of you,” Mr. Mancini says.
“And welcome, Emma.” He greets me with a kiss on each cheek.
His skin is papery. I’d place his age around seventy.
His eyes twinkle under thick black eyebrows, and his hair is a shock of white, stylishly cut.
His clothes scream casual luxury, like his wife’s.
“I’m so glad you could come and spend some time together. The boys can talk,” she says, slipping her arm through mine, “and we can get to know each other. I understand you just had a scary fall. Sebastian explained it. You’ll be able to take a delightful break here.”
“I’m fine. I’m feeling better by the hour. Sebastian is worrying for nothing.” That part is at least true. Despite a little lingering fatigue, I’ve felt good all day, and my headache is almost completely gone.
“Well, he’s concerned. He got our private doctor’s number here in case you have any problems. But I’m glad to know that you’re feeling better. Caitlin said that she might be hiring you to organize her new home.”
“I hope I get the chance to work with your daughter,” I say more shyly than I would like. I kick myself for not responding with more assurance. But this whole business-owner thing is new to me.
“That would be wonderful. Organization is not one of Caitlin’s talents.
And with her upcoming work schedule, there’s not much time to arrange things.
I offered to help, but she doesn’t want her mom’s assistance.
She said I’d take over, which, I have to admit, I probably would,” she says with a small laugh.
“You’ll meet Caitlin at dinner tonight.”
Maricella squeezes my arm as she leads me up the wooden staircase. She turns back to watch Sebastian and her husband. Sebastian looks up, as if to assure himself I’m okay.
“I suspect your fiancé is very much like Dario,” Maricella says, “so I’m not surprised he’s overprotective. It’s sweet how men think they’re in charge. I pretend to let my husband think he’s getting his way, while I do just as I please.”
I almost stumble at her unexpected words. My bark of laughter comes out as a snort, and I turn to see the subject of our discussion still at the bottom of the stairs, chatting. Our luggage has disappeared, likely spirited away by invisible servants.
“Dinner’s in several hours. So let’s get you to your room so you can rest and change.”
And luckily, we’ve just made it to the second-floor landing because I do stumble then.
She said room. Not rooms.
Which makes sense because we’re “engaged.”
In an unconscious gesture, I look down at my hand. I’m still getting used to the weight of the ring on my finger. The gleaming flash of the large diamond that keeps catching my eye.
Then I look back to see that Sebastian’s caught up with us.
He winks.