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“I know you’ve exhausted all your ideas, but maybe I can help. I know your dad, and if nothing else, I bring a fresh perspective. Give me a few days to think about it. I’ll come up with something.” Although I’m not sure what, if anything, would satisfy them both.
She nods, and we sit quietly for several minutes, my lips finding the top of her head.
“When I was nineteen,” she says so softly I have to strain to hear, “Valentina and I were outside by the pool sunbathing. You came out for a swim and hung out with us until dinner. I had always believed that you hung the stars, but that day—that day you went from being like a big brother to someone I wanted to do dirty things with.”
The ground shifted for me that day too. It was the first time I saw Lexie as a woman, and I couldn’t stop thinking about doing dirty things with her either. But she was nineteen, and I was about to turn twenty-seven and had already gone through a lot of partners. There was no way I was spoiling her.
“When you looked at me, it was as if you were stroking my skin. It tingled—everywhere. Then I went back to school and back to the boys I knew. They seemed like babies compared to you. I tried to move past my crush—but no matter how much I dated, no one came close to you.” She sighs, her lips curling into a soft smile.
“Then at the wedding—I don’t have to tell you what happened. Until you decided to be a prick who wouldn’t even glance in my direction, you took such good care of me. After that, I knew there’d never be anyone who made me feel that way. I didn’t even bother to try. That’s why I hadn’t had sex.”
I tip my head back slightly and close my eyes. In the last twenty-three hours, I’ve had more emotion causing havoc inside me than I’ve ever had—certainly as an adult.
“I should have never treated you so carelessly—”
She presses two fingers to my lips. “I’m not looking for another apology. You already apologized. I just wanted to tell you why I hadn’t had sex.”
I can’t change the past. But I will fix this problem between Lexie and her father. I’ll figure out something. And soon. Before something bad happens.
28
ALEXIS
It’s way too early, but Valentina is mixing a drink using a new product that Premier is about to launch. Over the last year, we’ve concocted all sorts of new cocktails, giving them names that had us doubling over laughing. This is our favorite—the Vaxie—a combination of both our names, because together we’re an antidote for whatever ails you. We must have been half in the bag when we came up with that one.
Valentina arrived after two this morning, and I fell asleep waiting for her. “How was the trip to the US?”
“It was fun in the beginning. Then Marco left”—she groans—“and then as a special treat, I had a breakfast meeting with a major creep.”
“I want to hear about the creep, but why did Marco leave?” I ask, taking two glasses out of the freezer. “Did something happen?”
She shakes the cocktail like it’s an outlet for all her frustrations.
“He told me that he had a meeting with a dealer to procure some art for a client. But it came out of the blue. I’m not sure why he left.”
This is not good. I don’t want to ask the question that popped into mind first—the one about meeting a woman. “You don’t have any idea at all?”
“I woke up to additional security prowling around. I hadn’t noticed them the night before, but that doesn’t mean Marco didn’t. He hates when Rafael or my father add to the security detail without consulting him.”
This has been an ongoing problem since before they were married. Despite what he claims, Rafael has a hard-on about Marco. And Antonio doesn’t believe that he needs to consult anyone regarding his family’s safety—not even his wife.
“They know it’s an issue,” she continues. “So I don’t understand why Rafa couldn’t have just contacted him to say that the infamous traffickers were arrested in Sirena and it might be a good idea to increase security until we know more. Is that so damn hard?”
“Only if you’re a man who’s used to issuing orders without consulting anyone. Although, in fairness to Rafael, he’s had a lot on his plate.”
“Don’t defend him.”
I raise both my hands. “Not me. You know how I feel about that kind of behavior. Tell me about creepy guy. I’ve been kept under such tight wraps for the last six months, I have no creepy guys in my life. I need to live vicariously through you.”
She laughs. “Do we have any grapefruit?”
“I don’t know—this is your apartment. But I doubt it. When I got here, there was nothing but crackers and more crackers, and not a meager wedge of cheese to be found. Not even a damn olive. But Giana and Sabio ordered groceries.”
“Sorry,” she says, seeming preoccupied. “I haven’t stayed here in months.”
“I don’t need a garnish,” I tell her, taking one of the cocktails. “Creepy guy. Spill the tea.”
“I’ll tell you about him, but then you need to tell me how you got caught up with the traffickers.”
