Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“Delete that fucking profile. I’ll do it.”
My heart abruptly flutters at his words, eyes widening. It causes me to drop my hand and slowly turn back in his direction. “You’ll…do what?”
“I’ll be your fake fucking fiancé,” he growls, prowling toward me.
I shake my head in disbelief as he approaches, swallowing hard at the dark gleam in his irises.
His stare feels heavy, predatory. Possessive.
It makes my core clench. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
We’re inches apart now, and I’m forced to tip my head back to look at him fully. “You’re not asking me to. I’m volunteering.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” I ask, my voice far breathier than it should be, but the tingle in my throat matches the one between my legs, caused by his proximity. I want to reach out and clutch his pressed white button-down and draw him closer.
Reaching above my head, he presses his palm against the doorframe, caging me in. His head shakes slightly as he drops his head. “This entire thing is a conflict of interest,” he says, practically in a whisper.
As he slowly lifts his gaze, it connects with mine. I suck in a breath as I become witness to the turmoil reflected through the depth of his blue-grays, but also something else.
God, he’s so close. It’d take one sway of my body to crash my lips into his, and as his eyes dip to my mouth, every bone in my body knows he’s thinking the same.
“Fuck!” he suddenly roars, taking a giant step away from me. Shoving his hand through his hair, he shakes his head and angrily stalks over to his office windows.
My body trembles with pent-up adrenaline and there’s a part of me that wants to pick an argument and go to him so I can crowd his space again, just to fluster him more, but the rational side of me screams to leave and put the much needed space between us.
So that’s exactly what I do.
“Wait, you’re going to Spain this weekend?” Vinnie asks as she reaches for the bottle of wine at the center of the table to refill my glass. The bottle gently clinks against the rim of my wineglass as she pours it.
It’s been two days since I was with Luciano in his office, turning my world upside down even more so than it already is. I haven’t seen him, haven’t spoken to him, and now, as he sits across from me at his sister's antique oak dining room table, his scowl burns through my skin.
I don’t need to look at him again to know he’s glaring, so I focus all of my attention on the beautiful woman beside me. She’s glowing as she rubs her barely showing pregnant stomach affectionately while waiting for my answer.
We’re all at Vinnie and Sly’s apartment for dinner: me, Vinnie’s other friend Cecilia, Sly’s friends Sully and Nixon. Bi-weekly dinners are a newfound tradition for us, and something I look forward to wholeheartedly.
“Yeah, just a quick trip. I’ll only be there for three days, max.” I hardly finish my sentence before my phone vibrates in my lap.
“But why?” Vinnie asks before taking a bite of her ravioli. “It seems like a quickly decided trip, even for you.” There’s a hint of playfulness in her tone.
Beside me, Cecilia giggles at something Sully has said across the table. He’s been trying to charm her since they met, but Cecilia is on a different path than he is, so she’s friend-zoned him hard. A place Sully isn’t used to being with a woman.
There’s three different conversations happening at once and I wish I was wrapped up in a different one, not having to think of a way to lie to my best friend.
Instead of answering, I look down at my phone and read the message, stalling while I come up with some sort of answer.
Asshat Lawyer
What time does the flight leave tomorrow?
Clicking my phone into lock mode, I shake my head and smile up at Vinnie. “Just going to visit an old friend.”
“That’s so fun! I miss traveling.”
Breaking free from his conversation, Sly turns to his wife and kisses the side of her head. “Soon, piccola ladra. Once we reach the halfway mark, we will go somewhere special. Perhaps tropical this time?”
“Mmmm, that sounds nice.” Vinnie hums, closing her eyes as she basks in her husband's affections.
I take the pause in conversation to respond to Luciano’s question.
You don’t need to come with me.
From across the table, I hear a snicker, and a message comes immediately.
Asshat Lawyer
Don’t I though?
No, you need to be working on my case.
I’ll work from the plane.
“Raina?” Cecilia says as she places her hand on my forearm, trying not to startle me.
She gives me a warm smile when my gaze snaps to hers.
I’ve known Cecilia just as long as I’ve known Vinnie, since she used to be her nanny.
Although we’re not as close as she and Vinnie are, I consider her a very close friend.
Her maternal nature is comforting, grounding me now with just her smile and gentle touch. “Could you please pass the salad?”
Dropping my phone into my lap like it’s on fire, I reach for the salad bowl and hand it to her. My eyes are locked with Luciano’s the entire time, and there’s a sparkle in his eyes—like he’s enjoying this. He has a front row seat to watch me squirm.
“So what are we doing this weekend? Since Raina is ditching us,” Sully asks, ripping his bread apart with his teeth.
“We didn’t have plans, anyway,” I quip, leaning back in my chair.
“We are not doing anything,” Nixon chimes in. “I have to work, remember? Some of us need to make money to survive.”
“Sucks to not be a part of the elite,” Sully jests in a playful tone. “When’s Zo-Zo coming back?”
“Enzo returns on Sunday,” Sly says, giving Sully a pointed look.
Sully sighs dramatically. “It’s not the same without him here.”
These men make up the weirdest friend group I’ve ever seen.
A weighted pause fills the air as we keep eating our dinners. Guiding a bite into my mouth, I steal a glance at Luciano. He’s staring down into his lap, presumably on his phone.
Unabashedly, I watch him. A small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth—is he talking to someone? A woman?
A spike of jealousy stabs my heart. My mind starts to spiral when it has no right to.
“Raina?” Vinnie nudges me, bumping her shoulder into mine. “Are you okay? You seem a little off tonight.”
Raising my gaze, my eyes connect with Luciano’s. “I’m fine,” I tell her confidently. “Just a little lost in thought, organizing my suitcase in my head.”
Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I turn to Cecilia. “How are you, lady? Any good news yet?”
Cecilia has been on the motherhood train for the last several months, trying to decide how she wants to have a baby of her own, sans man.
She’s one of the strongest people I know, having zero fear of raising a child alone.
She’s been researching adoption, artificial insemination, and even fostering, weighing all options with the entirety of her heart.
An absolute saint, this woman.
A small smile touches her lips before she shakes her head and looks down into her lap. “No, not yet. I still haven’t decided between adoption or using a sperm donor.”
“You will,” I say affectionately, squeezing her arm. My phone vibrates again, and suddenly an intense sensation sits heavy on my chest. I’m unexplainably overwhelmed, triggered by the incoming message and the guilt I have from lying to everyone I love.
“Excuse me,” I whisper to no one in particular, pushing my chair back as I stand. Rushing from the room, I speed walk down the hallway and lock myself in the confines of the bathroom.
Tears prick my eyes as my thoughts flash with the reality I’m about to walk into the moment I touch down in Spain.
Javier, desperate for me to pretend to be his doting, loving wife.
Luciano—and his judgment and pity—pretending to be my fiancé when he’s never even considered me a friend.
What have I done? Why have I agreed to this madness?
Turning the faucet to cold, I splash water on my face, not caring if it smears my makeup. I pinch the bridge of my nose, letting my eyes shut as the sound of the water running soothes my wild mind.
Behind the door, I hear dishes clanging as the table gets cleared, signaling dinner is over.
Typically, some of us will hang out for a while after, but I’m already planning my escape.
With a deep exhale, I shut the water off and look at myself in the mirror, using both pointer fingers to wipe under my eyes and smooth out any blemishes before opening the door.
A small jolt hits me as I come face to face with Luciano, who’s leaning against the doorframe as though he knew the exact moment I’d make my exit.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in a monotone voice, feigning boredom as he gently pushes his hand against my stomach so I’m forced to step back into the bathroom.
Following me in, he closes the door behind us. “Attempting to get some answers.”
“By holding me hostage in the bathroom?”
“You weren’t answering my messages.”
“I answered enough. You aren’t coming with me to Spain, Luciano.” Defiantly, I rest my hands on my hips.
“Like hell I’m not,” he growls, taking another step into my space. “I don’t trust that guy.”
Tilting my head up to look at him better, I roll my eyes. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t trust him. I hired you to be my lawyer. Nothing more. Your job is to handle my divorce as efficiently and quietly as possible, not try to be my knight in shining armor.”
“Is that so?” There’s an air of contention in his voice—he’s tapping into his lawyer persona. I’ve seen it in action, but what I’ve never seen is the glimmer of debauchery he isn’t bothering to hide, as though if I let him, he’d strip me bare right here and now.
I’m at a loss for words as his magnetism surrounds me. He leans closer, making it hard to breathe, the space between us shrinking until he's so close his nose practically touches mine.
There’s a split second where I think he’s going to kiss me—the same feeling I had when we were in his office the other day—but it’s gone a moment later when he uses the distraction to his advantage and pulls my phone out of my hand.
I don’t even fight him on it. Whenever he’s in my personal bubble, every ounce of feminism melts to the floor, leaving a starry-eyed teenage girl in its wake.
He turns the phone toward me so it will unlock with facial recognition, then after a few swipes of his fingers over the screen, I hear the whoosh of an email sending.
“What did you just do?”
He doesn't have to answer. I know he sent himself the flight itinerary.
Luciano smirks and places my phone back in my hand. “See you tomorrow, Raina.”
Then he leaves, and I’m wondering why the fuck he’s so hell-bent on helping me.