Chapter 26
Gabriel
He stands to go to the bar, and before I can stop myself, I stand too. “Torno tra un attimo.” “(“Back in a moment.“) I stride over and stand next to him at the bar. “Rodney.” I smile.
His face falls before he catches it, and I roll my lips to hide my
smirk.
Soft cock.
“Mr. Ferrara,” he stammers nervously. “Hi.”
“Hello.” I reply. “How are you?”
“Good, and you?”
“I’m great.”
The bartender walks over. “What will it be?”
“Let me buy you a drink, Rodney.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“I insist.” I smile as I sit down on the barstool. “Two Blue Label scotches, please?”
Rodney’s eyes widen at my order. “I’ve got to go back to work.”
“This will make it more fun, then, won’t it.” I point to the stool beside
- me. “Sit.”
He nervously falls onto the stool beside me.
The way we parted, it was nothing personal, you know that, right?” “Yes.” He nods. “It was a
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bad time for me.” I nod. “Where are you working now?” I ask him.
Ahhh…” He hesitates.
“Miles Media.” My eyes hold his. “Am I right?”
“Ah…well….”
“Relax, it’s fine.” I smile. “They are lucky to have you.”
“Thanks.”
The waiter puts the two scotches on the bar in front of us. “Thank you.” I pick mine up and lift it to my lips, ahh, perfection.
Rodney sips his and winces. “Strong.”
I smirk. “Maybe you’re just weak?”
“No doubt about it.” He rubs his chest as he feels it go all the
way down.
“So…” How do I put this? “Have you seen anyone that we used to work with?” I act casual.
“No.” He shrugs. “I run into Geoffrey every now and then, he’s still with you, obviously.”
I nod and take another sip as I listen. “What about Miss Coleman, do you ever see her?”
“No.” He twists his lips. “I haven’t seen her for years.”
“Oh…”
“I ran into her when she was pregnant at a trade show but haven’t seen her since.”
My stomach drops. “She’s married?”
“No, she did it alone. Donor sperm.”
What?” I screw up my face. “What do you mean?”
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He shrugs. “I don’t know, she said that she wanted a child and didn’t have a partner so decided to go down the donor sperm route. That’s why she
moved away, so that she could bring up her child in the country.” What?
I stare at him as I listen intently. “How pregnant was she when you saw her?”
“Heavily pregnant, like huge.”
“When was this?”
Not long after I left work, actually. Within a year of when she left.”
“What do you mean?”
Yeah.” He shrugs. “Shocked me too, if I’m honest.”
“What was the date?”
“I have no idea, it was…” He frowns as he thinks. “I saw her at the Apple convention in Vermont.”
“When was that?”
“No idea, but it was in the year we both left, I know that because I was still living in Manhattan, I remember I moved the weekend after the show.” Hmm…I sip my scotch as I
think.
Rodney keeps talking and I take out my phone and google,
Date of Apple convention in Vermont
The date pops up.
July
July…
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We were together in the December of the year before.
Hmm.
Weird…
That’s seven months after we slept together, so she was already pregnant at the time…or…
“What do you think?” Rodney says. I glance up, I haven’t heard a word he’s been saying.
“I’m sorry, I’m here with my mother. It was lovely seeing you again.” I cut him off and hold my hand out to shake his.
“Oh…” His face falls. “Of course. Good to see you again.” Liar.
“Goodbye.” I march back to my table and sit down; my mind is racing a million miles per
minute.
She was seven months pregnant when he saw her, seven months after we spent the night together. Couldn’t be…
“I ordered for you,” Alessio says.
“Grazie.” I take out my phone and text Mark.
Find Violet Coleman
Violet
“Find your ballet shoes, bubba,” I call as I spread the peanut butter onto my piece of toast.
“Where are they?” Lucy calls from upstairs.
”
“They should be in your closet,” I call back.
I hear things hitting the wall as she throws things out of her way to look. “They’re not.”
Joll my eyes; it would have been easier to find them myself in the first place because now
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m going to have to walk upstairs and get them anyway plus clean up the mess she made while looking for them.
“I can’t find them,” she screams, on the edge of a meltdown. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Coming,” I call.
Ugh, every Saturday it’s the same.
Running around like a chicken, getting ready for ballet class.
Iswear someone must break into our house and hide shit to make my life difficult.
I’m forever looking for something.
I walk upstairs and from the corner of my eye catch sight of her twirling in my bedroom, she’s checking herself out in my full–length mirror. I stand and lean against the doorframe and watch her for a moment.
She’s wearing a pastel–pink leotard and tutu, little white stockings. Her long dark hair is up in a bun and she is so stinking cute I can’t stand it.
“Wow.” I smile. “Fabulous twirling.”
“I’m getting really good at these.” She holds her hands out all professional like.
“I can see.” I nod. “Very impressive.”
“Maria says that I might go up to the next class next year.”
I smirk. She will go up because she’s older but I’ll play along. “Wow, I didn’t know that.
Great.”
I walk into her bedroom and look around at the chaos, everything is out of the bottom of her wardrobe and strung all over her bedroom. “What happened in here?”
“What?”
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“The mess.”
Oh…I was looking for the ballet shoes.”
“Couldn’t be bothered to put things back after?” I roll my eyes as I begin to look for these
bastard ballet slippers.
“I’m twirling.”
I roll my eyes as I look around her room, not in the wardrobe, not in the toybox, not under
the bed.
Where are these stupid shoes?
“Maybe you should go barefoot today,” I call.
“No,” she cries.
“Well, where did you put them?” “Maria must have touched them.” Ugh, she’s probably right.
Maria has moved out and is living with her boyfriend, she’s here three days a week while I
work and she still knows more about our house than we do.
I walk downstairs and text her.
Hi Maria,
Sorry to bother you.
Have you seen Lucy’s ballet slippers?
A text bounces back.
Hi.
”
Mr. Snuffles is wearing them.
Oh for god’s sake.”
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What would we do without you?
Thanks.
I trudge back upstairs, and sure enough, Lucy’s giant stuffed elephant is wearing the ballet slippers. “Mr. Snuffles was wearing them,” I call.
“Oh yeah,” she calls, unruffled. “He was too.”
“Come on, we have to hurry now. Downstairs and in the car.”
Irush down the stairs and glance out the window down to the lake. The morning sun is glistening on the water.
This view will never get old.
“In the car, please,” I call.
I hold the piece of toast with my teeth as I collect my bags. Straight after ballet we have
Little League, and then this afternoon we have a birthday party. Saturdays are always jam–packed with activities.
I walk out the front door onto the large veranda and see a black car come down the
driveway.
“In the car,” I call. “Fuck’s sake,” I mutter under my breath.
The car stops and parks at our place and I frown as I look over. Who is this? The back door
opens and in slow motion I see a man in a navy suit get out of the car…my heart stops.
Gabriel Ferrara.
He walks toward me, his height towering over mine. Big brown eyes and his perfect square
jaw. “Hello, Violet,” he says in his deep purr of a voice.
Emotion instantly overwhelms me and I get a lump in my throat, suddenly I’m taken back in time to the girl he didn’t want.
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always knew this day would come, but now that it’s here….I’m not ready.
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