Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Iadopted the damn dog.
Call it rebellion from Luciano telling me I didn’t need a pet or call it empathy for the old man—dog—who needed a home, but either way, after being left stranded in the middle of the dance floor, I marched over and signed the paperwork to bring Mickey-D home immediately.
Now, as we lay sprawled out on top of my bed, Mickey-D snores on his side while I savor French fries and watch a trashy reality show on the flat-screen.
The scent of white tea and lemon wafts into the air from the candle burning on my nightstand, mixing with the abrasive citrus scent from whatever cleaner my housekeeper used on the floors today.
I relax, snuggling deeper into the comfort of my bed while my thigh brushes against the soft fur of my four-legged companion.
Popping another greasy shoestring potato in my mouth, I reach down and scratch behind his ears affectionately while my eyes stay glued to the people on the show arguing. Happily, Mickey-D groans and rolls onto his back while I reach for the remote to turn up the drama.
Minutes turn into another episode, and the plate of fries becomes empty, leaving me with grease-covered fingertips peppered with salt as I devour the last one.
Letting out a deep sigh, I debate on getting up to retrieve the bag of chocolate-covered peanut butter pretzels that’s haunting me from my kitchen, but think the better of it.
My trainer’s already going to be furious with me at our session tomorrow.
From my nightstand, my cell pings with an incoming text, offering a glorious distraction from my desire to binge eat my depressies away.
Even baddies get saddies, right?
Stretching myself across the comforter, I read the message preview as I pick it up.
Vinnie
So, care to explain to me why I had to hear from Sully that you and Luciano shared a moment last night?
“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. Swiping upward, my fingers fly swiftly across the touch keyboard.
We didn’t share a moment. We danced while having a conversation. You know Sully overexaggerates literally everything.
Vinnie
Of course he does! But it still doesn’t explain why you were dancing with my brother.
I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re thinking. Just curious. No one’s seen Luce on a dance floor since…well, for me it’s been since I was a teenager.
And he thought dancing would be the less inconspicuous way to talk.
Not wanting to tell her the actual topic of conversation I had with Luciano, I deflect, and make things a little weird, like I always do. Making Vinnie squirm as I tease about the things I want to do to her brother is one of my favorite pastimes.
I was hoping to end up with his dick in my mouth, but alas, your brother puts up more of a chase than a butterfly in the wind.
Is it a little inappropriate to joke about her sibling like that? Probably. But she’s known about my attraction to him since day one, and although she’s always countered back with varying forms of disgust, we both know how elated we’d be if we one day became sisters-in-law.
Fat chance of that happening.
Vinnie
Gross, Raina. I didn’t need that image in my head.
Is everything okay?
My skin itches from lying to my best friend, but until I get this whole marriage thing figured out, the less people who know, the better.
Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?
Vinnie
Just making sure.
I leave her on read and set my phone down, returning my attention to the show.
This time though, I don’t register a word they’re saying.
In fact, I feel my eyes glaze over and start to burn from the lack of blinking, as my thoughts wander away and I slip into the memory of my conversation with Javier when I went to talk to him at his hotel.
The screechy laughter of the woman on-screen brings me back to reality moments later, and it scares Mickey-D, causing him to roll into a startled upright position. Reaching for the remote, I push the down button until the volume is completely off, then drop it back on my bed.
“It’s okay, boy,” I coo, scratching Mickey-D behind the ears. As I try to relax him, it’s then I realize my heart is racing, too. It’s been a week since I spoke to Javier, and he expects me in Spain seven days from now.
He all but begged for me to come, and not knowing what else to do, I gave in. I texted him the next day to let him know I was willing to help, and by five p.m. that evening, I had two first-class airline tickets in my email.
How kind of him to be willing to buy one for my fiancé. Insert eye roll here.
Of course, I left this information out during my initial conversation with Luciano.
I know I should have told him, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit what I had done.
It was hard enough watching the anger in his eyes when he found out I was married—an anger that still confuses me.
He’s been adamant about ignoring my presence and avoiding me since the moment I became friends with his sister, but this isn’t the first time I’ve seen the flash of something in his eyes that caused my heart to practically leap from my chest.
Dare I say jealousy. Possessiveness. Interest.
As though summoned by the devil himself, my phone vibrates with an incoming text from him and my heart does some irritating pitter-patter bullshit at the sight of his name flashing across my phone. I need to get that under control. Rolling my eyes, I read the message.
Asshat Lawyer
My office, tomorrow morning, 9AM.
Wow, bossy much?
He doesn’t bother responding—he doesn’t need to.
He knows I’ll be there.