“Well, son. It looks like you’ve made my little girl very happy,” Sheila’s father said from beside them. “Just remember our little discussion. Understand, young man?” The larger man was obviously trying to intimidate her brand new fiancé.
“Yes, sir,” Luca promptly responded. His voice quivered slightly as he quickly grabbed Sheila’s hands from behind his head and shuffled her into a tight embrace beside him. “You have nothing to worry about, sir. I promise to take good care of Sheila. Thank you very much for granting me permission to marry your daughter.”
Well, I’ll be darned! The great Luca Moriatti is afraid of my daddy.
Sheila’s lips curled up in amusement at the fine sheen of sweat that had broken out above her future husband’s top lip. Taking a moment to view her parents through Luca’s eyes, she realized why he might be a little apprehensive.
Standing at six–foot seven, Calvin Leigh Sr. was built like a linebacker, a wide wall of solid golden brown muscle. The traits of his size, build, and magnificence had been passed on to his only son. The white of his close–cropped hair did little to soften the piercing amber eyes he’d passed on to his two children. When in serious negotiations or disciplining his children, he had a way of making his pupils constrict to the point that he appeared to be gazing into your very soul. Spankings had been rare in their family because quite often all it had taken to set her and her brother straight was one long look from those penetrating eyes.
Momma’s soft drawl and words were her weapons of choice. At five–foot ten, the dark chocolate woman was a force to be reckoned with whenever life happened to rub her the wrong way. Right now, all seemed well as her mom stood with a huge smile on her beautiful face.
“Wait a minute,” Sheila said as the familiarity between the three people in front of her dawned on her. “You planned all this behind my back.” She rotated her gaze between the three of them. “But how? You don’t know one another.”
“Your fiancé called Thursday night to inform your daddy and me of his intentions,” Thelma Leigh stated in her charming southern–belle accent. “He even thought to ask what color gown you would be wearing so he could coordinate a matching tie.”
Sheila’s gaze shifted to the gold bowtie hugging Luca’s neck. His newfound fashion sense surprised her, but what surprised her even more was her parents’ alacrity to so willingly accept this man whom they had never actually met.
“How is Miss Hilde?” her mother asked as though reading her mind. “It’s been a while since I last spoke with her. According to my recollection, it was over three years ago at that New Year’s fundraiser ball I held in Atlanta. Too bad you didn’t come. You might have met Sheila sooner.”
“Oh, that would have been interesting,” he responded, appearing to substitute some of his nervousness with interest. “My moms… I mean my mother is doing very well, Mrs. Leigh. Thank you for asking.”
“Please, Luca, call me Mother or Miss Thelma. You’re about to become my son, for goodness sake. And your grandmother’s ring is much lovelier up close than it appeared on Skype.”
And there it was. Sheila and Luca had never really discussed the magnitude of their families’ fortunes. But if the gleam in her mother’s dark cat eyes homing in on her new, what felt like four karat engagement ring was any indication, the Moriattis must have high status on the ever important socioeconomic ladder. Sheila understood that such things were very important to her momma. But did she really have to go there right now?
“On that note, we’ll give you two some time alone,” Mr. Leigh interjected as though sensing Sheila’s discomfort.
Luca relinquished his stronghold on Sheila, and they both stepped forward to receive hugs from her parents.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered into her father’s ear while he embraced her and Luca was busy hugging her mom.
“No problem, baby girl. As long as you really love him, I’m on board. But if he so much as leaves the toilet seat up, he’s dead.”
Chapter 16
The first week of December was unusually cold and snowy, even for Maine. It was already dark out as Sheila crossed the snow–covered employee parking lot toward her place of work, noting that her footprints were the only ones marring the otherwise blank white slate. About an inch had fallen since the plow truck’s last pass.
Usually, she took a moment to enjoy the tranquility of the snow falling, especially when she was the only one around and she could hear the soft crunch of her boots as they depressed the semi–frozen substance. She often joked to herself that the lone footprints represented her abrupt escape to a better life and would catch herself humming Jennifer Hudson’s “Invisible” or rocking Sheryl Crow’s “A Change Would Do You Good”.
However, tonight there was no humming. The sudden change in weather was doing a number on her allergies, something she thought she’d already become accustomed to with her relocation from the South. But this time her throat was raw and her head stuffier than usual. The whole mess was sapping her energy. Even though her car did pretty well in the snow, the treacherous long ride to work had added a slight headache to the mix. Unfortunately, she’d have to suffer because there was no way she could take her meds and manage to stay awake all night. Hopefully, it wouldn’t last long. It usually didn’t.
The entrance to the clinic had about a foot of snow in front of it. Sheila could only guess the maintenance crew hadn’t gotten around to shoveling it yet and hoped they would do so before the patients arrived. Cautiously, she stepped through the snow bank, thanking God she had worn her knee–high boots, and stomped into the massive foyer, ridding her boots of the heavy, wet slush. Continuing toward the lab, she busied herself undoing her long wool coat. Her footsteps slowed and her head cleared just enough to notice something was off. Not only did the building seem deserted, the hallway was much darker than usual.
“Damon!” she called, only to be met with the sound of her own voice bouncing off the concrete walls. Shrugging it off, she continued down the corridor leading to the lab, figuring maybe he had come in through the back and hadn’t gotten to the lights yet.
When she reached the lab door, she noticed it too, was dark and empty. This was unusual. Damon and April always arrived well before she did, and neither of them ever called out sick.
She stuck her key in the lock, trying to recall how Damon had shown her how to handle the fickle device and was giving the door a right good cursing when a shadow fell past her periphery. With a start, she spun around, grabbing her chest to slow her racing heart. Her eyes darted back and forth, taking in every nook and crevice of the empty hall. She swore someone had been behind her, but her eyes found nothing.
“These allergies got me losing my damn mind,” she muttered to herself while turning back to work the lock with shaky hands.
After a few more attempts, she succeeded in unlocking the stubborn door and for once was happy that it automatically locked behind her. By then her headache had progressed from a dull ache to a full–throttle pounding.
Perhaps she should have taken Luca up on his proposal to drive her to and from work instead of sticking to that “I am woman” mentality. During the plane ride home, he’d gotten downright pissy when she told him about the incident outside the ballroom. Slipping back into Neanderthal mode, he’d outright demanded she quit her job and move in with him. It wasn’t until she threatened to break off the engagement that he collected himself and apologized. They spent the rest of the trip with Luca brooding, his luscious lips drawn into a pout and Sheila barely resisting the urge to spank that fine ass of his.
To Sheila’s surprise, immediately upon entering her tiny home, they had sat down on her living room couch and discussed their difference of opinion like two adults. True to his word, he put effort into getting his wayward emotions under control, recanted his earlier outburst, and was willing to compromise. He agreed to stop hounding her about work under the stipulation that she call him upon arrival at work and before heading home in the mornin
g. Originally, Sheila hadn’t been willing to concede to this, but she realized Luca was only doing it out of love and she needed to meet him halfway. It was a complete turnaround from the life she’d shared with the ever–selfish Ahmed.
Memories of their makeup sex put a smile on her face. She reached for her cell phone to call him. “Damn it,” she exclaimed on a sigh upon realizing she’d left her phone in the car. Times like this she hated the ability to preprogram her cell because she’d yet to memorize his number. Should she had, she could have used the office phone to call him and wouldn’t have to journey back out into the cold, dark night.
Chalking her earlier scare up to her vivid imagination, she courageously stepped back out into the dark hall. “Where the hell’s the light switch?” she whispered, feeling along the concrete wall. Her hand finally landed on a bank of switches, which she eagerly tried but only succeeded in lighting half the hall.
Suddenly, the air around her dropped ten degrees, and her teeth began to chatter as her unruly thoughts took on a life of their own. The first thing to come to mind as she progressed down the corridor was a scene out of one of those ’80s’ horror movies where the girl is being chased by the slow, but determined, killer. Hadn’t one of her patients once mentioned that this place would be the perfect setting for a slasher flick?
Sheila quickened her steps, trying desperately to brush off the irrational fear settling upon her. She rounded the corner, and a blood–curdling scream escaped from her. To her dismay, a headless figure stood in the middle on the hall just out of range of the lighting. She didn’t need to investigate any further. Heart pounding and all traces of lethargy forgotten, she turned and ran for her life. She made it back around the corner, only to collide with a cushiony, soft wall. Strong hands steadied her. Snapping into a defensive stance, she bravely looked into the face of her would–be killer, prepared to fight for her life.
“Whoa! Slow down there, Sheila.”
“Damon!” A small sigh of relief escaped her, but terror still coursed through her veins. “Did you see it?” she asked. Without much thought, she grabbed his thick arm and began pulling him toward the safety of the lab, determined to save them both from imminent danger.
“What the heck has gotten into you?” Damon asked, holding his position.
“Look! Someone put a headless mannequin in the hall. I don’t know about you, but I take that as some kind of warning before the stuff hits the fan. You can stay out here if you want, but I have no desire to become a statistic.”
Damon just stared at her, amusement growing in those large gray eyes of his.
“Fine! Stay out here and take on a serial killer if you want. I’m running for cover.” She turned to walk away, only to be stopped by Damon’s loud, boisterous laughter. Sheila turned to glare at him.
“Oh, you should have seen your face,” Damon managed to get out while pointing a finger at her and doubled over in hilarity. “That was priceless.”
Pissed beyond belief, Sheila found herself slapping his arm.
“Ouch! No need to get violent.”
“You’re lucky that little tap is all you got. What the hell, man? You scared the daylights out of me.” Her body started to tremble from aftershock.
“I’m sorry. You’ve been a little jumpy lately, and I wanted to cheer you up. I was just getting stuff together to take over to the community center. We’re donating these mannequins to the sewing club since the hospital no longer promotes scrub sales.”
“The community center? Shouldn’t we be getting ready for patients?”
“Boy, Sheila. I know you’ve been fighting the onset of the flu, but get with the program.”
“They’re allergies,” she protested, recognizing the whiny nasal character of her own voice.
Damon looked heavenward before speaking. “The lab’s closed.”
“What do you mean the lab’s closed?”
“Well, if someone would answer their phone, she’d know that last night’s major snow storm killed the power grid in this area. CMP’s been working on it all day but hasn’t been able to fix the problem yet. I volunteered to come by and wait for you since Sharon couldn’t get a hold of you this afternoon. Of course we didn’t know April was stuck here at the time.”
As if on cue, the lab door opened, admitting April into the hallway. “What’s all this noise out here?” she asked. She padded over to them wearing rainbow–colored toe socks on her tiny feet.
“Damon’s obviously into scaring people,” Sheila answered caustically.
“And you sound horri…” Her voice trailed off as her huge hazel eyes fell to Sheila’s left hand. “Oh, my goodness! When did you get engaged? The ring’s beautiful… and humungous!”
Before Sheila could answer, the man of the hour rounded the corner. “Hey. What’s with the headless mannequin?” Luca asked, gesturing his thumb in the direction he’d just come from.
As always, Sheila’s heart skipped a beat, happy to see him. She sashayed over to the one man who brought out the vixen in her, hugged him, and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. She pressed her palms to his chest when, in Luca fashion, he tried to turn it into something one should consider inappropriate with an audience standing by.
“Wait. What are you doing here? How did you get in?” she asked, stepping away from him, suddenly confused. As the words left her mouth, she realized the scream had taken a toll on her voice.
Luca’s eyes bugged. His voice was suddenly full of concern. “You sound terrible. How long have you been feeling like this?” He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.
Was it her imagination, or had she just seen a touch of panic flash across his normally cool features? “For goodness sake, everybody, they’re allergies. I get them every year.”
“You didn’t have them last year,” April admonished with her hands on her slight hips.
Great! Just what she needed her overprotective man to hear. “I worked with the twins during that terrible stretch last year. Thanks for conjuring up the bad memories there, April.”
“Sorry,” April offered. A red hue tinged her cheeks as her petite body began to literally close in on itself.
Casting Sheila a brief, but definite we’ll–talk–about–this–later look, Luca continued. “The front door was open. Apparently, the snow stopped it from closing all the way. You need to be more careful about things like that. What if someone else had followed you in? You already know how I feel about you working here. Finding the door unsecured like that only reinforces my displeasure for this entire situation.”
Before she could stop the impulse, Sheila rolled her eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey, none of that,” he chastised, sharply pointing his index finger at her. “Just because we came to an agreement doesn’t mean I’ve changed the way I feel. And, damn, this place is weirder than I remember,” he stated, giving the large corridor a once–over while digging in his pocket for something. “I got turned around trying to find you. Here, you forgot this at the house.” He held her cell phone out to her.
The compulsion to be mad at him for chastising her in front of her friends quickly dissipated. “Thank you.” That was her Luca, always looking out for her. She smiled and then stepped into his arms to gently press another chaste kiss to his full, eager lips. The thought of his words and actions sank in, reinforcing how much he really cared for her.
“Why are you standing out here?” he asked, gazing at her lovingly.
“You don’t want to know,” Sheila answered. Grabbing his hand, she led him over to her co–workers. Something told her it wouldn’t be a good idea to enlighten him on Damon’s warped sense of humor. “This is my fiancé, Luca Moriatti.”
“Fiancé?” April exclaimed.
With a coy smile, Luca stepped forward and shook hands with Damon and April. Both of her co–workers congratulated them. Sheila almost laughed at the look on April’s face when her eyes traveled up Luca’s tall body and met his face.
“Hey, I know you. Weren
’t you in for a study a while back?” April asked with astonishment in her soft voice.
“Yeah, that was me. I heard there was this sexy lady working here and had to come check her out for myself.” Luca waggled his eyebrows.
April continued to stare up at him with wide eyes.
“He’s kidding, April,” Damon interjected, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Now, as for you, are you gonna stay here another night, or do you want a ride home? Remember there’s a chance the generator might cut out. If it does, it’s going to get very cold in here. And, as Sheila has shown us, it can be quite creepy when the lights go out.”
Sheila tensed a bit when Luca gave Damon a quizzical look. She relaxed when he withheld comment.
“I know. But if I go all the way home, I’ll have no way of getting back, and I have an appointment in town tomorrow. I’ll just stay here till my car is fixed, no biggie.”
“I don’t think so,” Sheila butted in. “You’re coming home with me.”
“Oh, Sheila, no. I can’t do that. I’m sure you need your privacy, having just gotten engaged and all.” Those simple, innocent words caused the straightforward, yet ever bashful, April to blush again.
“How comfortable are you driving in the snow?” Luca asked. Sheila could tell he was up to something.
“I’m a true Mainer. I’m fine driving in the snow,” April stated, straightening to her full five–foot–two height with pride.
“Good.” Before Sheila could protest, Luca snatched her keys from her hand and tossed them to April. “Gas tank should be almost full. I filled it yesterday in anticipation of the storm. Keep it as long as you need to.”
Sheila bit her tongue. She wasn’t too keen on anyone else handling her ride. True, Luca had overstepped his bounds again, but at least it was for a good reason.
Luca's Dilemma Page 16
