Chapter 5 Elliot #2
“Yeah, I guess. But if eating will make you happy…” Eva trails off.
“Okay, stop. Disturbing, coming from you.”
“Fine. I’m glad you haven’t crossed that line. Billie is one of my closest friends and a hard worker. Losing her would be a tragedy,” she admits, her voice shifting to a more serious tone.
“Chill out. I do know how to be around a beautiful woman and not jump into bed with her,” I retort with a light-hearted laugh.
“You think Billie is beautiful?” she asks, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “I mean, if you want to go out with her, I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if she ended up my sister-in-law. Actually, that would be great!”
“Is there a correct answer to this? Fine, yes, she is beautiful, and enough with the commitment talk,” I reply with slight frustration. “Now, what’s going on with Aston’s sister?”
Eva shrugs, her expression turning a touch wary. “She kind of left her fiancé at the altar… well, sort of.”
“People actually do that? I thought it was only in movies,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” she replies quickly. “But look, it’s still raw, so just… don’t bring it up. I’m sure some nosy person in town will mention it the moment they see her. I know she’s freaking out about it, so go easy on her.”
“Honestly, I don’t keep tabs on what others say. I’ve got enough on my plate.”
The man behind the counter calls our names, so I eagerly grab the two cups waiting.
“Oh, really? Like?” she prods, smirking.
“Don’t go there,” I warn, a hint of anger creeping in. “As for drinks, I’ll see how I feel. I’ve promised to meet someone for a drink tonight, and then I plan to hit the road when there’s less traffic heading out of the city.”
“A drink, huh?” Eva pries, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “And what’s her name?”
“His name,” I correct, handing her the peppermint tea.
“Oh my God. You’ve switched teams?” she exclaims, feigning horror.
“You’re still a pain in my ass. Do you want a ride into the city or not?” I offer, trying to change the subject. “I need to get out of here soon.”
Eva shakes her head, laughter bubbling up again. “Thanks, but I’ve got a few places I want to check out while I’m over here in Brooklyn. Promise you’ll text me if your plans change?”
“Yes, Mom,” I reply, the corners of my mouth lifting in a grin as she walks away, shaking her head with laughter.
“Cheers.”
The gin flows smoothly down my throat as I sit at the bar with Matteo, a friend from Paris.
We first met at a mutual friend’s restaurant opening, where our conversation centered around the culinary scene in Paris.
Matteo’s uncle owns a winery in Tuscany, so Matteo and his twin brother, Nico, travel around Europe selling wine to upscale venues.
“So, tell me about small-town life?” Matteo asks with a slight chuckle. “You milking cows and riding your tractor?”
I shrug. “It’s not Paris, that’s all I’ll say.”
Matteo shakes his head with a grin, but then exhales loudly. “Nothing ever compares. Speaking of Paris, I have to fly back soon.”
“Oh yeah, work?” I ask, expecting the usual reply.
Matteo travels a lot, despite his parents and family living in the States. He spent so much time in Italy that his accent still lingers.
“Actually, no. I’m going to be a daddy,” he declares, his tone laced with trepidation.
The words hang in the air, and I nearly sputter my gin. I study Matteo’s face closely, searching for a hint of jest. His dark brown, almost black hair, falls over his eyes. Anxiously, he combs it back with his fingers as I question, “No, wait, is this for real?”
“Yes, it’s for real. My mother is beside herself because we’re not married, and in the Catholic church, this is a sin. She’s been doubling up on confession, according to my sister,” he says, shaking his head with a desperate kind of humor.
I raise my glass. It’s hard to rein in my shock, but for my friend’s sake, I try to stay calm. “I guess congratulations are in order?”
“Let me make this clear in case you’re not reading the room. I’m going to be a father. To a woman I broke up with,” he clarifies, his expression serious.
My hand immediately falls until the glass I’m holding sits once again on the bar. “So, are you together now? I don’t understand.”
“I promised we would try again. I mean, it’s a kid. My parents have been married for forty-two years,” he explains, the weight of his words lingering between us.
“It was a different time back then. Besides, marriage isn’t the answer to everything,” I counter, trying to find solace in my own convictions. Just as I say it, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I reach into my jeans and pull it out to see the name I have been avoiding at all costs.
Nicole
I miss you. Paris isn’t the same without you here. I know you’re scared, Elliot, but we need to talk. Call me, please.
It wasn’t long ago when we spent the night celebrating a friend’s thirtieth birthday at Les Etoiles. We drank and danced the night away, to crawl home at dawn.
We spent all day in bed, ignoring life outside the four walls of the bedroom. Our conversations were heavy on the night’s hilarious shenanigans, but then, rather quickly, the subject shifted to our future. It was easy to get lost in the moment, fill our future dreams with plans to be together.
We both wanted to live in Paris for the foreseeable future, and Nicole’s friend had a fantastic apartment available a few blocks from my restaurant.
But the next day, Nicole brought it up again, and I soon learned it wasn’t just a mindless conversation.
She said she wanted it all, and I so foolishly agreed.
The following week, I found myself withdrawing and making excuses not to see her. Nicole is an intelligent woman, and she called me out on my behavior. There was no fight, no argument of any sort, but a mutual agreement for space.
Nicole nodded through tears, her pain palpable. As much as it shattered me to see her hurt, I couldn’t ignore my instincts. Eva’s call for me to return came at the perfect time, though I’ll never admit that to her. I packed my bags and left, giving us both space where we can’t possibly cross paths.
I am a fucking coward.
And the damage is done.
“Hey, it’s my sister, Valentina,” Matteo interrupts, nudging me in the direction of the entrance.
I turn my gaze toward a woman who bears an uncanny resemblance to Matteo, waving from across the room. Beside her stands another woman, in a tight black dress that hugs her curves and accentuates her gorgeous figure. Her long golden curls cascade down her back, and as she approaches, our eyes lock.
She’s just the distraction I need.
The two of them stroll over. When they reach the already crowded bar, Matteo introduces his sister. Valentina kisses both my cheeks. Then, as Valentina’s friend, Stassi, introduces herself, she follows with a double kiss, lingering just a bit longer.
“Nice helmet,” she says playfully, raising her voice over the noise in the bar. “You ride?”
“Depends,” I reply with a smirk, my curiosity piqued. “Do you like to ride?”
Her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Yeah, I love it.”
Matteo orders us a round of Sambuca shots, and suddenly the night is alive. The potent taste doesn’t take long to work its way into my system. There’s no fucking chance I can ride home tonight. I could crash at Aston and Eva’s, or I can take Stassi back to her place, which will be much more fun.
As if she can read my mind, Eva sends a text message.
Eva
You coming? Maddy is here, and I’d really like you to officially meet her.
I slide my cell back into my pocket and ignore my sister. The music swells with a mix of RnB and pop, drawing the crowd into a collective sway. Stassi hands me another shot, her lingering gaze dancing with mischief as she raises her glass to clink with mine.
“So, how many of these do I need to drink to get a ride?” she teases boldly.
I smirk, leaning closer to whisper, “Depends. You talking about my bike or me?”
She bites her lip seductively. Her mouth has been taunting me all night, and it hasn’t helped the raging hard-on beneath my jeans. Fuck, I can’t remember the last time I met someone this hot, even though my vision is slightly blurred from all the shots.
Then, Nicole’s words echo in my head…
Maybe we both need space. Time apart. You go do your thing, and I’ll do mine. I love you, Elliot, and the moment you’ve figured out if forever is for you, then you know where to find me.
Stassi places her arms around my waist, eager to leave the bar. “My place is right around the corner. Let’s get out of here.” She pulls my hand, and as Matteo shakes his head with a knowing grin, I eagerly follow Stassi out the door.
Outside the bar, against the brown brick wall, I press into her and slam my mouth onto hers. The taste of aniseed from the potent Sambuca lingers, but it doesn’t stop the urge to get her on top of me and forget my life in Paris exists.
And for tonight, Stassi is the Band-Aid to all my problems.
A sexy one at that.