by Suzan Battah
“Jules? What’s wrong?”
Julia didn’t realize it, but she was taking in rapid breaths. She tugged on his arm, but he wouldn’t budge.
“What’s the matter?” He lifted her chin. “Slow breaths, sweetheart. I told you I was going for a surf.”
“It’s raining,” she blurted out, pulling him into the lobby. “Come on. I don’t want you to get sick.”
Several patrons of the hotel watched them as they came back inside. Chris followed her back up to the penthouse and even went straight into a hot shower to appease her. She stripped out of her drenched clothes and joined him. She held him close as the water and steam brushed all over them.
Ten minutes later, they were each sitting on a recliner. There was no tension. Julia watched Chris for a few minutes before she broached the subject. “Carlos…” She spoke his name with heartfelt pain, swallowing back the emotion. “Carlos… was my husband.”
Chris flinched as if he had been slapped. “Your husband?”
She nodded, cringing a little. “He passed away a couple of years ago. We were high school sweethearts. We got married really young, but he was very sick.”
He didn’t press her for more information. She found it hard to talk, but charged on anyway. The more she opened up about Carlos, the better she felt.
“It’s his thirtieth birthday celebration today. His mother, Irene Carpone, insists that I go, but I don’t want to.”
Chris was thoughtful for a moment. She had no clue how he was feeling about what she was saying, as he remained impassive.
“Irene, is that the same woman who came over the other afternoon? Carpone, the name seems familiar.”
Julia nodded. “The Carpone Gift and Flower shops. They’re a huge enterprise all over the country. Irene never married. Carlos was her only son.”
After a small silence, Chris rubbed his jaw, looking over at her he inclined his head. “What happened to him?” Chris asked.
“He had cystic fibrosis. He was managing fine, until he caught pneumonia and his lungs were already weak… he couldn’t fight anymore. For years, he battled with constant hospital visits. We were married when he got really sick. He really wanted to get married, as he knew he was going to die. He was so young, it wasn’t fair. A few months after we married, Carlos couldn’t hang on anymore. I was always so scared for him. A cold or flu would make him ill for months.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It wasn’t easy… look, I didn’t intentionally lie about Carlos,” she confessed. Tears were welling in her eyes because she couldn’t control her emotion any longer.
Chris shook his head. “I think you should go to the celebration, Julia. I think you should go.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She grabbed a tissue, wiping at her eyes. “We’re okay?”
Chris came over to give her a hug, his expression unreadable. “Go with your mother to Carlos’ celebration.”
***
Julia arrived at Irene’s house an hour late, her mother coming along for support. Irene was so delighted that she enveloped Julia in a warm hug.
The house was abuzz with people chattering and music playing. One of Carlos’ favorite bands were playing on the stereo. There were pictures of Carlos all over the walls, each one bringing up fresh memories. Julia had never thought she would have to deal with this again. But now so many people were in the house to celebrate his life. Julia didn’t even recognize half of them. They were all there, however, to pay tribute to the young man she had loved.
The night progressed slower than she had hoped. She drank deeply of pink champagne, her all-time favorite drink, the cool, fuzzy sweetness relaxing her nerves.
Always the gracious hostess, Irene fussed over all the guests, directing the caterers swiftly. It really felt like a birthday party. Only the birthday boy was missing. Julia put her empty glass down, grabbing another one from the teenage waiter whizzing past.
Then the clink of a glass echoed throughout the room. Irene stood at the stairwell, tapping a spoon against her glass to get everyone’s attention. A massive cake and large screen television were wheeled in.
Julia’s heart nearly stopped and she looked from her mother to Irene in shock.
“My son Carlos was my only child,” Irene declared, tears spilling down her cheeks. She had difficulty speaking, almost choking on the next words. “Two years ago, we lost my Carlos… I miss him every day. This party was his idea. He asked me to invite you all here to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. I’ve had a special disc of film and pictures made to celebrate Carlos’ life. I’d like to share this with you.”
Irene stepped back out of the way, waving at a young man below to press a button. The television flashed to life. Irene’s hand pressed to her chest when a picture of Carlos as a baby spun onto the screen. Classical music played serenely in the background, bright and joyful, in no way mournful but rather celebratory.
Julia’s head was spinning as she saw him on the screen. First he was a chubby, smiley child with honey-blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes. She gasped as another picture, this one of Carlos and her in their teens, flashed larger than life. They were in their muddy private school uniforms after a massive storm had hit the coast. Carlos’ smile had been so bright with excitement after the storm. Julia would never forget how scared she had been afterwards. He had been drenched to the bone and coughing continuously. They had got him straight into a hot shower, but despite his protests that he was fine, he gradually became sicker. He was never truly well after that day. The smallest chill would have him in hospital.
The music softened as a film clip of Carlos, lying in his bed after a hard therapy session with Irene sitting next to him came up onto the screen.
“I am so lucky to have Julia. She is my Latin beauty, and I’m going to marry her,” he said, wheezing with effort.
Julia sobbed, remembering the night Carlos had proposed to her. They had been best friends and first-time lovers. She could never forget him.
The screen skipped to their wedding in the hospital. Julia wearing a long silk white dress, and the room was decorated with white ribbons and red roses. She had been so young and innocent, and so was he. They had such hopes.
After a few more pictures, Carlos appeared on the screen, gaunt but smiling, to give a final message.
“To all my family and friends, I had a wonderful life. Mama, you were so good to me. I couldn’t have asked for a more devoted mother. Julia, I know our time has been short. But you made me very happy as… my friend… my lover and my wife….”
Carlos coughed roughly on screen, but he continued looking directly into the camera. Julia wanted to reach out and touch him.
“It’s okay to let go… love again… make sure, this time… he takes care of you, not the other way around. You deserve to be loved, the way you loved me, unconditionally. Have fun… go dance, laugh, and play. Don’t be sad… remember me with a smile. You are so beautiful… when you smile.”
The television screen went black. Julia’s heart ached and she wiped furiously at her wet cheeks. Then, lifting up her glass to Irene, she whispered, “Happy birthday, Carlos.”
Chapter Sixteen
They were out to lunch at the Café Mondelino the following day. Chris frequently took her to lunch at this particular café, one of his favorite spots to enjoy a meal or coffee.
“So how was last night, the celebration for Carlos?” Chris asked. When she didn’t answer, he waited patiently for her response.
Julia took a long sip of her lemonade, thinking of what she should or shouldn’t reveal to Chris about Carlos. Still worrying, she picked up her fork and started to stab at some of her creamy penne.
Chris, waiting for her response, swallowed his steak. He looked across at her, but she did her best not to glance his way. From the corner of her eye, she could see he was getting annoyed. He wiped his mouth on a napkin, sitting back in his chair. She continued to eat as if he hadn’t asked her anything. Bu
t he wasn’t so easily ignored.
“Jules? I asked…” He folded his arms, the urge to laugh flickered across his face for a brief second when she continued to stuff her mouth with food. She gave him an innocent look, but he remained stoic.
She bit off a large bite and when she glanced up at him, she was chewing furiously. She really shouldn’t have put that much food in her mouth. His brow lifted in a combination of annoyance and frustration as he waited for her to finish. The amount of food on her fork was a lot more than she had anticipated, and she took a long sip of her drink again to help it go down before she choked.
Her eyes watering from the food, she sighed and said briefly, “Yeah, it was lovely.”
He reached out, grabbing her hand as she swirled her food around her plate about to take another large bite. “Is that all you’re going to tell me?”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t like the direction this was going.
“How do you feel about it? Do you still miss him? Do you want to talk about it?”
“Well, he died two years ago, Chris. Of course I’m over losing him. He’s been gone a long time,” she muttered, sick and tired of everyone wanting to talk about Carlos.
He let go of her hand, frowning, and returned to his meal. She stared back at him, lost to what else she should have said and unsure why she suddenly felt guilty.
They continued to eat their meal in silence. The moment he finished, Chris waved his hand at the waitress, in an obvious rush to leave. Julia on the other hand wanted to linger a little. She wasn’t ready to get back to work.
“Will your mother and father fly in when the renovations are done?” she queried with a swift change of subject.
“My mother will definitely be coming soon. But my father hasn’t been well. Besides, he wasn’t keen on the renovations from the start,” he muttered, gesturing to the waitress for the bill.
Julia nodded, remembering. “Still, I thought he would have been okay with everything by now? I haven’t met all your family. What about Dylan, will his mother let him come?”
“Not sure about that.” Chris shrugged offhandedly. Then he gave her a taste of her own medicine when he maneuvered the conversation into a completely different direction.
“Are you staying with me at the Augustine this week?” he asked, laughing when she made a face at this diversion.
“Would you mind staying over at my place this week?” she requested uncertainly. She knew her roommates were a pain, but she was exhausted and the Augustine was sometimes distracting, with staff always requiring Chris’ attention.
“It’s just with Andreena and Cole’s wedding… you see… Could we stay at my place this week?” She didn’t want to explain why.
Chris took out his wallet, flashing the waitress a smile as she put the bill down in front of him. He flicked out some cash, leaving a generous tip and shut the small leather folder.
“Is everything all right? I know we’ve had a hectic schedule. You’d tell me if something was wrong?” he asked, concerned.
“No, no, there’s nothing wrong. I’m just going to be so busy this week. I was hoping you could stay over at my place instead. If it doesn’t bother you?” She asked, opening her bag for a mint and offering him one.
“I’ll come over tonight,” he responded. “We’ll have a quiet night in. Trust me, once the renovations are over, everything will calm down and we can enjoy each other.” He stood up. After slipping into his suit jacket, he bent down to give her a kiss before heading back toward the Augustine.
***
“Hey, Julia, I can’t find my shaver. Did you pack it somewhere?” Chris called out from her bathroom later on that night.
“I might have put it in the cabinet,” she answerd, after a moment of thought.
She could hear him rummaging through the cabinet. Then something fell and he muttered something in French. Julia smiled. Since telling Chris about Carlos, everything had gone back to normal.
“Found it… you’ve got all this medication in here. Is everything all right?”
Julia’s heart skipped a beat. “Just some sleeping pills and painkillers for my knee. Nothing serious.”
He came out of the bathroom, running the electric shaver up and down his cheek. “Some of that stuff isn’t marked. You’ve got to be careful with it.”
She nodded her reassurance and yawned as if she were tired. When he went back into the bathroom, Julia put the book down in her lap. She couldn’t tell him she was having problems sleeping, but he was beginning to sense something was wrong. Her sleepless nights remained unnoticed only when he was exhausted himself and he usually slept so soundly.
The doctor she had recently seen insisted she try other methods to help her sleep instead of using the new medication. He had warned her about the side effects and dangers, but she just didn’t care. She needed to rest.
In the next few days, Julia started to feel a little more refreshed. The medication was working. She went for a massage and a facial and got herself pampered with a deluxe manicure and pedicure.
She was glad that Chris was so preoccupied with the Augustine renovations that he hadn’t noticed her struggles with exhaustion. A fire in the Augustine kitchen had him rushing to the Augustine to check out the damage. Julia decided it better to stay with him for the rest of the week.
Now she was feeling better, she could give him a bit of sexy loving. She had brought over some fresh ingredients for a nice home-cooked meal, deciding that a spicy Latin dish would get him fired up.
She arrived at the penthouse around six that evening, carrying shopping bags full of food. Chris was sitting in the recliner, talking on his cell phone, his expression mutinous.
When he saw her walk in, he got up to help her. But as he wouldn’t hang up his phone, he just got in the way, nearly throwing some of the bags over the kitchen bench in his frustration.
“I don’t care! You find the evidence to prove she’s hopeless. That’s what you get fucking paid to do, Owen. My father is too ill to deal with this crap. If you have an issue with finding what you need, you come to me, got it?”
Julia listened carefully to Chris’ outburst over the phone while pretending she wasn’t listening. She was so busy eavesdropping that she opened a cabinet too quickly. Saucepans tumbled out of the bottom cabinet with a loud crashing noise. She grimaced, looking over the counter.
Chris frowned at her and headed toward the balcony to talk in privacy. His voice drifted faintly from outside. She was embarrassed about eavesdropping, but she had to do it. Chris rarely shared anything other than what he wanted her to know.
She sometimes wondered why he didn’t talk more about his life, whether it was bad or good. He complained that she kept herself guarded, but he did exactly the same.
“How can they possibly lose her? Is Dylan still with her? Well, you better get the investigators out there looking again! What am I paying you fucking thousands for if you’re not going to do your job properly?”
She could see him in the reflection of the glass, leaning against the railing, the soft breeze rustling his dark locks.
“Money isn’t an issue. Do what you need to do. Bring him back here and have the court process the papers now. Daniela is a selfish drunk, gambling my father’s hard work away. She leaves my brother with a nanny all day. She’s going to screw him up big time and he’s only four years old. Do whatever you need to do, at whatever expense. Hang on, Owen. I’ve got to go, got another call. Keep me updated… Mameré.”
Chris switched to French, his tone softened considerably after talking for a few moments, and then he laughed.
Julia smiled, relieved that his mother was able to lighten his mood. She began to choose the ingredients for the seafood paella while keeping an eye on Chris.
A few minutes later, he strode in from the balcony, frowning at a message on his cell phone. He barely even looked at her as he headed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she called out, but he had already
left, the loud bang of the door echoing after him. Julia slammed the knife on the kitchen bench. For the first time in weeks she felt exhilarated, and he didn’t even glance her way. She knew he had a lot on his mind, but she was trying her hardest to be upbeat and engaged now. She deserved better treatment than this.
A half hour later, Julia was stirring her seafood paella, annoyed with Chris for disappearing. She had gotten out one of his good red wines and poured a generous amount into a large crystal glass. She took a long sip of the wine, growing even more rattled as she wondered where he was.
The elevator sounded with a loud bing, announcing the arrival of a guest to the penthouse. The door rattled and opened wide.
“That better be you,” she grumbled, moving the pot off the gas stove.
The bang of the door startled her for a moment. She glanced over at him, surprised by the look on his face.
He headed straight for her, an expression of burning passion radiating from his eyes. She gasped as he pulled her into his arms, swooping down for a kiss, the heat of his body seeping into hers. One hand caressed her bottom, pressing her to his body and she could feel him already hard. His tongue slipped into her mouth, the familiar fire of desire burning deep.
She broke away. “Are you alright?”
He nodded, pulling her back into his warm embrace. She could feel the intensity in his body.
“I need you now,” he whispered by her ear, his lips pressing against the curve of her shoulder.
She moaned in response as his hold on her tightened. He undid the clip knotting her hair. As her hair dropped down in a swirling heap, his fingers combed through it. All the while his eyes stared right into her. He framed her cheeks with his hand, thumb skimming under her eyes.
Slowly, he took a step back. Even as he was breathing hard, he focused on undoing the buttons of her blouse. In his hurry to get it off her shoulder, her shirt ripped slightly. Then it landed on the floor behind her and he unhooked her bra, pulling the straps down.
