by Sienna Mynx
She soon heard hard bangs of someone’s fist at her door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me Marcella. Open the door, I want to talk to you.”
She stepped toward the door but stopped. “Then talk.”
“Not through the door nena… open up, por favor.”
Marcella shook her head no, as if he could see her through the door.
“I will only stay if invited. First let’s talk,” Diego said, his voice earnest.
Crossing the room, she first put the chain on the door to open it just a crack. He flashed her the smile that usually made her smile and stepped in closer. “Can I come in?”
“Talk.”
“Marcella, not through the door.” he frowned.
“Just as I figured, you don’t want to talk.” She closed the door, on him. She expected him to knock, bang, kick in protest. He didn’t. She looked to the peephole and saw him as he turned to walk away. Marcella nearly opened the door to call him back but stopped herself. She went to the phone and dialed his number, but again stopped herself. She dialed Susan instead. No one answered. Then she tried Garrett, to see if he was okay. The only person who knew Katchner agreed to the showing was Diego. And telling him had been pointless. After several rings and no answer she hung up. Marcella paced the floor. There came another knock on the door. She frowned. She lifted from the sofa once more. “Who is it?”
“It’s me. I’m back.”
Marcella went to the door and opened it with the chained lock. He showed her a ratty rose. It came from Andy the vagrant pushing them up and down the sidewalk. Marcella shook her head no.
“Let me in.”
“No.”
Diego threw down the flower, like a petulant child. His nostrils flared. She closed the door in his face. Waited, waited, and then checked. He left. This time she went to the balcony door. She moved aside the blinds to look out into the street. He soon emerged from the front of her building and crossed the street headed for his car. He stopped and banged his fist on the hood of his car. His head turned, his eyes cut back over his shoulder and for a minute she thought he saw her. But his gaze swept the surface of her loft then dropped away. Eventually he sped off.
Marcella released the breath she held. The phone in her hand rang. She looked down at the number and saw it was Susan. “Hey!”
“Hi.”
“I’m so glad you called me back,” she sniffed, her voice choked down the last of her sob forming. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been acting like a bitch. I didn’t know your mom was sick again, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, hey, are you crying?”
“No, yes, I mean, I don’t know. How’s your mom?”
“I’m heading there now, got a late start. They want to put her in a hospice but we’re keeping her home. She’s better with us.”
“I’m so sorry Susan, I should have been there for you. I’ve been selfish.” She looked back at the closed blinds then put a hand to her brow. “I’ve been caught up.”
“Oh Marcella stop. It’s okay. You have always been the faithful friend. I nearly moved in on you and wore all your things, without any complaints from you. So what you met a guy and it was good for you. I get it. Now tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?”
“Diego.”
“You two have a fight?”
“That’s the least of it.”
“Honey, what is it? I know you haven’t fallen in love with the guy yet?
“Love? No. Deep like.” She lied. Her heart beat so fast she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. If she had fallen in love then she was in danger—the worst kind of danger—heartbreak city here she comes.
“Marcella, I saw it weeks ago. You got it bad.”
“Oh Susan, I don’t need this shit! I should have stopped it sooner. I should have resisted. It was supposed to be light, no commitments, just fun. But as soon as it started it’s all I wanted of him. All of him.”
“Resisted? Is it that bad or that good?”
“You don’t understand. This man, he, he’s complicated, infuriating, spoiled, secretive, and mean.”
“Wait? What kind of mean? He hit you?”
“No he isn’t violent. I don’t think. He’s just indifferent to all the things that would matter in a relationship. Like open communication, honesty.”
“So he’s lied to you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Sweetheart, what did the man do?”
“Nothing. Everything. He won’t meet my friends for starters.”
Susan chuckled. “Is that all? Sounds like a true ‘A-type’ of guy.”
“He invented the term, and I think he knows Richard.”
“Wait, why do you think that?”
“They acted like they knew each other.”
“He met Richard?”
Marcella sighed. “I’m so pathetic with him, so needy, and worse yet I like it. Look at how I’ve treated all of you. Don’t get me wrong. Diego is sweet, charming and attentive. When it’s just us I’m his sole focus. This is why I’m crazy. Because my heart gets all in it and he disappoints me.”
Susan grew silent. Marcella understood. What she said aloud shocked her. She liked being his submissive? Had she really gone over the bend? Suddenly panic swelled in her chest. She felt trapped and hopelessly desperate. Taking a seat on the sofa, she dropped her head in her hand with the phone pressed to her ear. “I sent him away. It’s for the best. This thing with us has to stop.”
“I agree. Now explain Richard to me. Why does Diego know him? How?” Susan said.
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.” Marcella blinked through her tears. “You think I should end it?”
“C’mon. Love isn’t supposed to be this painful, and if it is at the very least not in the beginning. You have completely lost sight of you in this equation. Of course I want you away from him.”
“You’re right.” Marcella agreed.
“And Diego is just a jerk? Right?”
“No, I told you he’s complicated. He’s vulnerable like me.”
“Marcella, don’t do that sweetie. If he was all those things you wouldn’t be in pain.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Shit.”
“What? What is it?”
“I don’t believe this.”
“Marcella?”
“Let me call you back.”
She shut off the phone. She saw him leave so certainly it couldn’t be him. Going to the door she peeked and discovered it was. Marcella’s hand went to the knob froze over it, then closed over it and opened the door. This time he had a better arrangement of flowers, two cones of cellophane Daisies from the grocer—the Kroger label covered both.
“Are you kidding?”
“Let me in.” he grumbled.
She undid the chain and opened the door. He handed her the flowers. Marcella accepted them watching him as he walked through. “These aren’t why I opened the door,” she said closing it behind her with her foot and tossing both to the plant table near the door.
He turned with his hands in his pockets. “If it’s your ex-boyfriend, I’m no longer jealous. I apologize.”
“It’s more than that and you know it.”
“I apologize for that too.”
“For what exactly Diego?”
“For whatever it is that has you pissed with me.” He snapped back.
Marcella shook her head. “Fine, it’s been a weird night. I’m trying to get my head together so, if that’s all then please go.”
He stepped in her way blocking her turn to the door.
“Just leave okay, you don’t want to talk unless I press and I don’t want to press anymore.”
“Anymore? Is this because I wouldn’t go to the gallery thing?”
“Among other things, yes. One minute you’re a dream and the next, a nightmare. I can’t take the merry go round with you. My life is not about what I do for you in bed…it’s about more than that. And you don’t wa
nt to be part of it. Not really.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what you do for me in bed,” he said cupping her breast. She knocked his hand away but he gripped her wrist pinning it behind her back. She was brought up against him and held there. “Stop fighting me nena. I am sorry. I will show you.”
“You’ve already shown your cock to me Diego, I’m no longer impressed.”
“Is that so?” he smirked, then forced a kiss. She bit his bottom lip. He kissed her harder, forcing her tongue to mate with his. The tightness loosened on her wrist, and his hand dropped to grip her ass and squeeze.
“Let me go.” She pleaded turning her face away. He peppered her cheek with kisses, but his hold and touch softened. The phone rang.
“Leave it,” he said huskily.
“No.” She stepped away and picked up the phone just as it stopped ringing. She turned around and tied her robe. “Get out Diego.”
He stood there defiant.
“I mean it.”
“Don’t send me away Marcella.”
She glared at him.
“Can we stop this?” he shouted. “It’s ridiculous! I wouldn’t waste my time with you if you weren’t important.”
“Waste your time?”
“You know what I mean! I can’t win!” He huffed, and then started speaking fast in Spanish, too fast for her to translate.
“It’s not about winning, or dominating me. It’s about things you should know, that I shouldn’t have to say to you in a relationship. The fact that you don’t, well it makes this whole thing pointless.”
He glared at her.
She looked away. “I don’t know who I am when we are together.”
“I know who you are.” He stepped toward her.
“No you don’t. And you won’t if you don’t answer me. You tell me right here and now, are you coming? Will you come?”
He removed his coat. Slid off his sports coat, lowered his suspenders, undid his tie…she looked at him aghast. He shrugged off the question.
“Answer me. Are you?”
“All I care about is you, and only you.”
“And this showing is me. My friends are a part of me. Frankly I’m insulted that you’d think otherwise.” She paced away from him, hands to her hips. “I’ve been ignoring it, but not after tonight. I want an answer. And you know the one I need to hear. So what is it?”
“It’s that important to you?” He asked her.
“How do you think I feel sharing your bed and all the wonderful things you do with me, but you can’t be bothered to meet my friends?” She touched his face. “I’m trying Diego, because despite the way we’re bonded I have hope for more. But you break my heart when you push me away. Let me in or let me go.”
He stared at her. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She almost withdrew because it burned so badly. But she didn’t. Instead she touched both sides of his face and kissed him, a soft kiss breezing over his lips as gentle as a whisper. His arms circled her. They held each other without words. Her resolve weakened in his hold.
“It’s not that I don’t care, it’s not that at all. If you need me then I’m there, because you need me.” Diego said. “It is hard for me Marcella. I wish I knew the words to explain. I don’t.”
“Meeting my friends is hard?”
“No. Yes. I’m not a man many like.”
“Diego that makes no sense.”
“You care for me Marcella, I see that. People usually don’t. They fear me.”
The final three words hit her hard. Fear him? Either he was an extreme narcissist or insane, no one could fear him from a meeting. “Diego sweetheart, my friends aren’t like the people you socialize with.”
Diego narrowed his eyes on her. “You don’t know everything about me Marcella, and that is for the best. If I step into your life you will. I want to pace us. Take our time. It is good between us, no? Before others influence your feelings for me I want them to grow, as mine grow for you. Time, nena, I need more of it.”
“You can’t have it.” She announced. “I’m sorry Diego but this is it. I need your friendship now, not your bed. I want you to come to my show.”
He nodded he understood. “And I wish to be the man to give you, your wants.”
Marcella threw her arms around his neck. A natural step for most was a big step for them. She felt it. She felt it and she clung to it. “Now let’s make up,” he breathed in her ear, untying her robe. He pushed her head to the side with his jaw so he could press kisses along the line of her throat. Marcella ran her hands over his broad shoulders, moaning under the soft shivery tickles applied over her skin.
“I want to make love to you. Now.” Diego panted, taking steps to walk her back to the bed.
“No.”
He looked at her displeased.
“Not tonight. I want you to hold me.”
His gaze lowered to her exposed curves. She knew he wanted to object. Marcella stepped back and shed her robe. She walked over to the bed and slipped under the covers. Diego shed his clothes and joined her. Though his erection pressed into the back of her thigh, he spooned her without complaint. “Forgive me nena, I’ll get it wrong from time to time.”
She closed her eyes and prayed that her instincts were wrong. Diego Andes just had to be the one. After all the heart wants what it wants.
Chapter Sixteen
The gallery closed early. Garrett had left again for L.A. to visit Bailey and Susan remained with her mother. Marcella sent Sam home. Tending to her business renewed her strength. She loved her work, she loved her success, a great distraction from the nagging doubt shadowing her inner thoughts.
The alarm chirped when the door softly echoed. She thought she closed the store, locked it. Rising from behind her desk she walked out of her office and saw Richard turning to close the door.
“Richard?” Marcella gasped at the brutality inflicted upon his once handsome face. “Sweet merciful God!” she stammered. She hurried toward him when their eyes met. “Are you okay? Was there an accident? What happened?”
The left side of his face was purple and swollen to the point of shutting his eye, his lip split and cut to his chin, his left jaw protruding, black and blue bruising covered his usually olive skin where it looked as if there had been someone’s hands on his throat. She reached to touch him and he stepped back. “Tell me what happened to you? I need to get you to a hospital.”
“Just left the hospital,” he said grabbing her wrist.
“And?”
“You know what happened. Your boyfriend wanted to send me a message.”
“Diego? No. He wouldn’t do this.”
“I was told to stay away from you or it’d be much worse. I tried to… to warn you Marcie. Why are you mixed up with him? Do you even know what kind of people he’s connected to?”
Marcella’s heart hammered in her chest. She put her hand there not sure how to answer. She was willfully blind to certain truths, and Diego’s associates were one of them.
“His people had no problem finding me because I used to represent Juan Juarez, the man who sold you the figurine.”
“Funerary?”
“You know what I mean!” Richard shouted then winced.
“I’m so sorry Richard. I’ll um pay for your medical bills. I can’t believe this.” She put her hands to her head and paced away from him.
“Marcella, hey, look at me. I’m okay. But are you? You’re involved with him aren’t you?” Richard dug down in his pocket. He removed a newspaper clipping and shoved it on her. “After your boyfriend had his goons beat me up I got a visit from a man, he just showed up on my doorstep. Black guy, tall, said his name is Lance Davison. He wanted to make sure I understood his boss’s wishes. He wanted me to say that I won’t ever go near you again.”
Marcella accepted the clipping.
“Juan Juarez had to sell his assets because Diego collected on the bank loans for Market Street. I was the attorney handling the case. Andes boug
ht up everything poor Juarez had. Everything Marcella. And do you know how? He’s connected to a drug lord out of Colombia.”
