by Pamela Yaye
Chapter 9
“Pick up, dammit.” Rafael paced inside the master bedroom of suite 608 in nothing but his black boxer briefs, cursing and mumbling in Italian. He glanced at the bedside clock, saw that it was nine o’clock and hoped luck was on his side. The bride and groom were leaving for their honeymoon at noon, and he had to speak to Stefano before the newlyweds boarded their flight for the Galapagos Islands. Rafael had a score to settle with Paris, and it couldn’t wait.
At the thought of the captivating beauty who’d given him the best sex of his life, then promptly skipped town, his hands clenched into tight fists. Making love to Paris was supposed to alleviate his stress, and his growing anxiety about the future, but he’d never felt more alone. He was confused, out of sorts, and couldn’t handle his emotions. Rafael felt a twinge in his heart, a pain that burned and throbbed inside the walls of his chest, and wondered what he’d done to deserve being used and ditched. He’d woke up an hour earlier, expecting to see Paris lying in bed beside him, but she was nowhere to be found. He’d never been rejected by a woman before, especially after a passionate sexual encounter, and didn’t like the feeling.
His gaze bounced aimlessly around the suite. He felt strange being there without Paris, but didn’t want to leave until he knew exactly where she was. But phone calls to the hotel spa, gym and restaurant confirmed his worst fear: she was gone. His first thought was to call her, but he didn’t have her cell phone number. And since the front desk clerk wouldn’t give it to him, tracking his best friend down was his only other option.
The call went straight to voice mail, and Rafael did what he’d done three times before: he hung up and hit Redial. Sunshine streamed in through the balcony doors, but the warmth did nothing to improve his mood. He was pissed, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on Paris Sex-Him-and-Leave-Him St. Clair. She’d sexed him in a hundred different ways, then disappeared like a thief in the night. Who does that?
Rafael dropped down onto the chocolate-brown armchair, rested his cell phone on the side table and massaged his tired, aching shoulder muscles. Paris had worked him over real good last night, done things to him in bed that blew his mind. He’d woken up that morning hungry for more, only to find her gone, and her betrayal stung like hell.
As he shrugged on his wrinkled dress shirt and tuxedo pants, he spotted something shiny peeking out from underneath the king-size bed. Rafael bent down, lifted the blanket and picked up the diamond necklace. Holding it in his hands, he studied the delicate, heart-shaped locket. No way, he told himself, adamantly shaking his head. This isn’t it. It can’t be....
Rafael turned the pendant over, saw the inscription R.M.’s Girl, and knew it was the necklace he’d bought Paris for her twentieth birthday, the one he’d scrimped and saved to buy. Questions flooded his mind. Why had she kept the necklace all these years? Had she been wearing it all weekend? Why hadn’t he recognized it before?
Because you were too busy drooling over her curves, his conscience reminded him.
Rafael heard his cell phone ring, surged to his feet and snatched it off the side table. He checked the screen, saw his best friend’s phone number and sighed in relief. “I must have called you a dozen times. What took you so long to hit me back?”
“Well, good morning to you, too,” Stefano said with a chuckle. “What’s up?”
“I need Paris’s cell phone number.”
“That’s why you’ve been blowing up my phone?”
Rafael tucked his wallet into his front pocket. “Just give me the number. I’m pressed for time.”
“What’s the emergency?”
I had sex with Paris, and she skipped out on me in the middle of the night. I want an explanation and I want it now! Since Rafael couldn’t tell his best friend the truth, not without raising suspicion, he lied. “I found her diamond necklace and I want to return it before she leaves for the States.”
“You’re too late. Her flight was at 7:00 a.m. She’s long gone.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, she had breakfast with Cassandra before she left for the airport.”
Rafael hung his head and dragged his hand down his face. He felt winded, as if he’d been kicked in the stomach.
“Just hang on to the necklace, and return it when Paris gets to Washington next Friday.”
His ears perked up. “Paris is going to be in Washington?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
No, but I’m sure there are a lot of other things she conveniently forgot to share.
“She has some important business matters to attend to at Excel Construction, and she’s also speaking at the Women’s Business Expo in March,” Stefano continued.
Rafael’s heartbeat quickened. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I got Cassandra tickets last week and she’s superexcited about the event....”
An idea took shape in Rafael’s mind as he listened to Stefano discuss the three-day conference at the W Hotel in Washington. Surprisingly, plotting his revenge, his sure-fire, get-even plan, gave him a natural high. He had to teach Paris a lesson, and knew just what to do to even the score.
“Thanks, man.” Rafael shoved the necklace into his pocket and slipped on his leather dress shoes. “Have a great honeymoon. We’ll talk soon.”
Rafael snatched his tuxedo jacket off the chair and exited the suite. He heard someone shout his name and froze. Hanging his head, he released a deep, heavy sigh. Damn. Rafael glanced over his shoulder, spotted his brothers standing at the elevator. “Hey, guys, what’s up?”
“I thought your suite was on the twentieth floor,” Demetri said, leaning against the wall.
“It is.”
“Then why are you sneaking out of Paris St. Clair’s suite?”
“That’s none of your damn business.”
Nicco snapped his fingers. “I knew it. You ditched us last night to hook up with Paris, didn’t you? That’s why you ignored my calls and texts.”
“I’ll see you guys later. I have a meeting in Tuscany today, and I can’t be late.”
“Not so fast, Casanova. Your meeting isn’t until three o’clock, so that gives you plenty of time to have breakfast with your brothers.”
Rafael shook his head. “I have to pack.”
“You brought a carry-on bag. Won’t take you long.”
The elevator doors slid open and his brothers pushed him inside.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, so we’re heading down to the hotel restaurant.”
“I can’t go in there dressed like this,” Rafael argued. “My clothes are a wrinkled mess.”
“That’s your fault. Next time you get your freak on remember to hang up your suit!”
“Shut up, Nicco.”
Demetri wore a sympathetic smile. “Don’t sweat it, bro. You look fine.”
Then looks can be deceiving, he thought sadly. I feel like crap.
An hour later, Rafael, Nicco and Demetri were sitting at a corner booth inside the hotel restaurant eating breakfast. The dining room was occupied with a few sleepy-eyed diners, the air was filled with lip-smacking aromas and the pop song playing created a light, festive atmosphere. His brothers were having a great time, laughing and cracking jokes about their night out on the town, but Rafael couldn’t get his mind off Paris. And every time he spotted a women with long black hair enter the restaurant his heartbeat sped up.
“So, how was your night of sex and debauchery?” Demetri cut a glance at Nicco and cleared his throat. “What happened between you and Paris?” he asked, draping an arm casually over the back of the booth. “And what’s with all this secrecy?”
“What is this, twenty questions?”
“I’m serious, Rafael. You’ve been acting strange the past few weeks, and this situation with Paris St. Clair just proves how much you’ve ch
anged.”
I’m not the one who got engaged and became a love-struck fool, Demetri. You are!
Rafael picked up his mug and tasted his coffee. His brothers were watching his every move, and the air was thick with tension. Needing to clear his head, he told Demetri and Nicco about his mind-blowing attraction to his first love. He deliberately skipped past the intimate details of his erotic encounter with Paris and instead spoke about all the fun they’d had together last night.
“Where is Paris now?”
Rafael shrugged and picked up his fork. “Your guess is as good as mine. I woke up this morning and she was gone.”
“She left without saying goodbye?” Demetri gave his head a slow shake. “That’s cold. No wonder you’re pissed.”
“I’m not pissed.”
“Yes, you are. That’s why your eyes are narrowed and your jaw is clenched. And if you gripped your water glass any tighter it would shatter into a million pieces.”
Rafael took a deep breath, hoping it would calm his nerves, but it didn’t. Every time he thought about Paris skipping out on him he wanted to punch a hole in the wall.
“I have to ask.” Nicco leaned forward in his chair and stared Rafael dead in the eye. “Did you handle your business...in the bedroom?”
Rafael spoke through clenched teeth. “Just because I don’t screw everything in a skirt doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please a woman.”
Nicco held up his palms. “Bro, relax! I’m just playing devil’s advocate.”
“Spit it out. What are you trying to say?”
“Maybe it wasn’t as good for her as it was for you—”
“Or maybe Paris left because she’s scared,” Demetri interjected.
“Of what?” Rafael asked, confused by his brother’s words. “We’re not strangers. We dated back in college, and we were extremely close.”
“That was fifteen years ago.” Demetri tossed a piece of cantaloupe into his mouth and chewed slowly. “Things are different now. Paris has changed, and so have you—”
“Thank God for that, because you used to be the biggest geek ever!”
“At least I wasn’t a man-whore,” Rafael retorted, glaring at Nicco.
“All right, guys, knock it off. We came here to talk, not to crack on each other.”
Silence fell across the table. Rafael finished his omelet, washed it down with the rest of his coffee and wiped his mouth with his gold-rimmed napkin. Hearing his cell phone buzz, he took it out of his jacket pocket and punched in his password. He had dozens of new text messages, but found his mind wandering as he stared at the screen. He longed to hear Paris’s voice, to see her, and wondered if she was thinking about him.
Doubt it, he thought glumly. Why can’t I meet an honest, trustworthy woman with family values and morals? And why can’t she look, smell and sound like Paris St. Clair?
“Gerald called me this morning,” Nicco said.
Rafael glanced up from his cell phone. “He did? What did he say?”
“It looks like the arson investigation is finally heating up. No pun intended.”
“Was he able to get a copy of Gracie’s cell phone records?”
“Yeah, and he struck pay dirt.” Nicco’s eyes darkened a shade and held a menacing glare that spoke of his disgust. “The files prove Gracie and her brother, Trevor, were in Jariah’s area at the time of the fire, and that’s not all. Gracie was captured on video buying spray paint and bleach from a hardware store just days before Dolce Vita was trashed.”
“So the police think she’s good for the break-in at your restaurant, the shooting at the Beach Bentley Hotel and the arson attack at Jariah’s condo complex?” Demetri asked.
“Can’t say for sure. I’ll know more once Gerald meets with detectives on Wednesday.”
Rafael frowned and scratched his head. “You won’t be at the meeting? But I thought you guys were heading back to Miami tonight?”
“We are, but Jariah and I have premarital counseling on Wednesdays, and—”
“Premarital counseling?” Rafael repeated. “But I thought you were the perfect couple! At least that’s the impression you’ve always given me.”
“We have a great relationship, but we don’t always see eye to eye. No one does!”
“Are you thinking about postponing the wedding?” Demetri asked.
“Hell, no!” Nicco struck his fist on the table. “I’m marrying my baby and nothing’s going to stop me.”
Demetri and Rafael chuckled. Nicco was a cutup, always laughing and telling jokes, but when he spoke about Jariah and her daughter, his eyes brightened, his chest puffed up with pride and he became serious.
“Jariah’s my soul mate, and I plan to be with her until the day I die. Thanks to couples therapy I’ve found even more things to love about her. I know deep in my heart that I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her.”
Intrigued, Rafael leaned forward. Normally, when his brothers started talking about their relationships, he zoned out, but today he wanted to hear what Nicco had to say. A year ago his bad-boy kid brother had had more groupies than any basketball team. Now he was crazy-in-love, engaged and so anxious to tie the knot it was all he could talk about.
“Relationships aren’t easy, but I’m committed to making things work, and so is Jariah. We’re in this thing together, and nothing can tear us apart.”
Maybe I’m going about this situation with Paris all wrong, Rafael thought, stroking his jaw. Maybe I should take a softer approach.
“What are you going to do about Paris?” Nicco asked.
He shrugged a shoulder.
“Don’t leave us hanging, bro. Spill the beans.”
“Why, so you can run back and tell your fiancées?” He gave a bitter laugh. “No way. Forget it. The fewer people who know about me and Paris the better.”
“I thought you liked Angela.” Demetri’s voice was filled with hurt.
“I do. I think she’s great, but I hate when you blab to her about my personal life.”
Nicco scoffed. “What personal life? You don’t have one. All you ever do is work!”
Stroking his own jaw, Demetri slanted his head as if deep in thought. “Who knows? Maybe now that he’s reconnected with Paris that will change.”
“You think?”
“Didn’t you see them out on the dance floor last night?” Demetri wore a teasing smile and bumped Rafael’s arm with his elbow. “You were gazing at her like a love-struck fool, and when Luigi told me you stole Paris away from him, I knew you had it bad.”
“Luigi’s a sleazeball,” Rafael argued.
Nicco cocked a thick eyebrow. “And you’re the perfect man for her, right?”
Yeah, bro, as a matter of fact I am.
“There’s my handsome husband-to-be....” Angela excitedly yelled.
Rafael turned, saw Angela and Jariah approaching the booth and smiled. They were both strong, independent women who weren’t afraid to speak their minds. He was proud of his brothers for snagging such incredible partners.
“Hola!” Jariah sat down beside Nicco and gave him a peck on the lips. “How is my baby doing this morning?”
“Great, now that you’re here.”
“Good answer!” she teased.
Everyone at the table laughed.
Rafael looked at his brothers, marveling at the admiration in their eyes. He recognized then what was missing from his own life: love. He wanted what Demetri and Nicco had. And secretly hoped to meet someone who’d love him unconditionally, a woman who didn’t give a damn about his wealth and popularity. He’d been in love way back when in college, but he hadn’t met anyone in the past fifteen years who stoked his fire the way Paris St. Clair did. She was in a league of her own, unlike anyone he’d ever met, and making love to he
r last night had only increased his desire for her, his insatiable hunger.
“I miss Ava, but this is turning out to be one hell of a weekend!” Jariah said with a laugh. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun, and I owe it all to you, baby....”
Rafael took out his wallet, dropped two hundred euros on the table and got to his feet. It was time to go. His brothers and their girlfriends were kissing and hugging like teenagers out on a double date, and he felt like a third wheel. As always, the conversation would inevitably turn to wedding venues, flower arrangements and exotic honeymoon destinations. Rafael would rather go upstairs to his empty suite than listen to the couples discuss their upcoming summer nuptials.
“I’m going upstairs to pack,” he said. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Jariah touched his forearm. “Don’t go. We want to hear all about you and Paris.”
Me and Paris? There’s nothing to tell.
“Paris is an old friend and nothing more.”
“Really?” Angela raised a thin, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You guys looked awfully cozy last night at the wedding reception....”
Rafael raised a finger in the air. “It was just a dance or two. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Are you sure? Because my instincts are telling me there’s definitely a story here.”
Demetri made his eyes big and wide. “Run, bro! She’s on to you!”
Everyone at the table cracked up. The waiter arrived and loaded the empty plates and utensils on his silver trolley. Deciding to make a quick getaway, Rafael grabbed his cell phone and exited the hotel restaurant before Demetri’s fiancée—a popular TV news reporter with a knack for uncovering the truth—could grill him about his one-night stand.
Chapter 10
Paris should have been on cloud nine. Her meeting with Ebony Garrett, the gregarious CEO of the multimillion-dollar franchise Discreet Boutiques, had gone extremely well. If everything went according to plan, Excel Construction would be building ten more stores next year. And that wasn’t all. They had been voted most improved business by the Better Business Bureau.
