“Uh…okay…”
She took a sip, then stepped closer to him. “I wanted to talk to you...” she stared at his lips.
“About?”
She giggled and looked down at the ground.
He could tell that she had downed her fair share of alcohol as well.
Her hand went to his arm, then slid across his chest. “Something private.”
“Raquel, I think it’s been a long night…”
“Shhh,” she said, as her hand slid down his chest. “I need to tell you something.” She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, but lost her balance, spilling the rest of her champagne down the front of his pants.
He inhaled sharply as he felt the shock of the wetness on his crotch.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry,” she said as she awkwardly bent down to brush the front of his pants with her hand.
He quickly grabbed her wrist, but not before her fingertips had managed to make brief contact with him.
“Ohhh my…” she said, staring at his crotch. “Let me help you with that…”
He stepped back, still holding her wrist. “Raquel, leave it. It’s fine. I’m going to call you a cab.”
“Nooo, the night’s still young,” she pouted. “I was thinking…”
He held up a finger. “I’m going to stop you right there. We have a business meeting on Monday remember? You should go home. Get some sleep. Prepare.”
Raquel looked indignant. She wanted to say something in her defense, but then part of her became aware of the business implications of the situation. “Fine. Thanks for a good night,” she said, avoiding eye contact with him. She waved her hand. “Sorry about the drink.” She walked away, setting her now empty glass down on a nearby table.
Giorgio let out a long exhale. “Great,” he said, frustrated as he looked down and felt the front of his pants. They were very wet and sticky. He looked at the washroom door, briefly considering trying to get some of the champagne off in the sink, but he decided against it. He wasn’t going to go back to the party after this. He’d had enough. He headed back to the hotel elevators, trying to avoid bumping into any more rowdy or frisky party guests.
*****
It was getting late. Over three hours had passed and Anabelle hadn’t heard a word from Giorgio. She had ordered room service and watched a romantic comedy on the TV while she ate, and then took a long soak in the tub. The room, the food, and the service had all been excellent. She’d reveled in the luxurious accommodations.
It had been a wonderful escape from the ball, but she couldn’t get her mind off of what was going on down there and where Giorgio was. She felt hurt that he was staying away so long after their romantic interlude. It had meant a lot to her, but obviously not to him, she thought bitterly. She kept thinking of all the women who had been hitting on him. Including Raquel. She had forgotten about her until now. Her mind started to spin with all kinds of awful scenarios. She knew Raquel wasn’t the kind of woman to give up easily.
Anabelle had crawled into bed finally and shut off the lamp in the bedroom. She pulled the covers up around her shoulders. She felt sick. And alone. She wiped away a tear. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted things to move too fast between them physically. Her emotions were now all over the place. The intimacy they had shared this night had been intense. Maybe too intense. Giorgio was like a narcotic for her, her feelings and reactions to him were almost too much for her to handle. He had a way of sweeping her into a heightened, dream-like state. She touched the diamond heart pendant she was still wearing. She was falling hard for him. Very hard.
She thought of what Sarah had told her, that she needed to keep perspective, keep her wits about her. In spite of how amazing he had made her feel earlier, like the center of the world, he had left her to go back down to the ball. And why? she asked herself. Because of Portia. A woman she didn’t trust. Anabelle was beginning to feel like a fool.
How was she going to tell Giorgio what she believed she overheard in the bathroom? What did she really know of his relationship with Portia? Maybe there was even something between them, either now or in the past. For all she knew, telling Giorgio about it might push him away. But she’d have to. Instead of feeling a fuller blush of romance after their intimate time together, she was feeling worried and scared. He had the power to break her heart. Badly.
Around 3:45 a.m. Anabelle finally heard Giorgio come in. She had tried to fall asleep, but with all of the events of the ball and her intense intimacy with him, she just tossed and turned as her mind went over everything, analyzing everything, considering different outcomes, tormenting herself with the worst possible ones.
He came in, not turning on any lights, trying to be quiet. She listened as he undressed in the living room, then went into the washroom. A few minutes later he came out and slipped into bed next to her. She could smell the alcohol on him. He’d obviously had a few more drinks at the event.
She pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want to pepper him with questions and reveal her doubts and insecurities. This wasn’t the time. She was also afraid of pushing him away, but at the same time afraid of playing the dupe. She listened as he quickly fell asleep, his breathing deep and slow.
She turned over. She looked at him sleeping next to her. He was so handsome, like something out of a fantasy. But she wondered what all was really going on with him. What his plans were and if any of them involved her. She lay awake until dawn, tormented by her fear of the future.
Finally, around 6:30 a.m., she couldn’t take it anymore. She knew she was going to get into a fight with him. She was upset and hadn’t slept. She didn’t want that to be their last memory of their time in this room. He was still sound asleep. She got up, freshened up in the washroom and got dressed. She wrote out a note for him:
Giorgio, thank you for a wonderful evening. I will never forget it. I decided to head home to look after Jasper. I didn’t want to leave him alone any longer. I didn’t expect to be this late. Talk to you later.
Hugs, Anabelle
She headed downstairs, saddened, but needing to get away and clear her head. She stopped at the front desk and inquired about the taxi chits for the ball. The woman at the desk handed her one and politely wished her a good day. Anabelle nodded and left.
Chapter 22
Anabelle had a long, sad ride home. She entered her apartment and was greeted by a very anxious and lonely Jasper. It was nice to be needed and know he was always waiting for her.
She changed out of her ball gown, into baggy sweats and an old, worn t-shirt. She carefully placed her diamond heart pendant and chain back in its box on her dresser. She looked at it for a moment, then over at the beautiful gown hanging in her closet. She thought of Giorgio picking it out for her, then slipping it off her. Her heart felt heavy. She had been Cinderella for a short time at the ball, but now she was back in her small, humble home. Alone. This wasn’t the way she had pictured this night going at all.
She fed Jasper and gave him some attention. She was exhausted. Physically and in every other way. It was going on 7:30 a.m. now and she hadn’t slept. She felt like she had just been through an endurance race, having so much adrenalin pumping through her system over the last few hours. Now she was crashing.
She laid down on her sofa and pulled a thick, woven blanket over top of her. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but she was too tired to stand upright any longer. Her mind and emotions were a jumbled mess. Jasper jumped up on the sofa and curled up next to her on the blanket.
“Hey, boy,” she said, petting him. “Thanks for forgiving me for coming home so late.” It felt good to have his warm, furry form close to her, knowing he had missed her company. Just then, a well of emotion surged and she started to cry. She felt consumed with sadness. She let the tears fall freely down her cheeks.
She thought of the man she left behind. Giorgio. Her gorgeous Adonis, who she had the most incredible sexual encounter with. She had got out of bed and left him behind, sleepin
g and unawares, with only a brief note that hid the truth. The man one who brought her to an event of prominence and importance to him. The man who dressed her in finery and diamonds and booked a 5-star hotel suite for them to escape to when he saw how uncomfortable she was. The man who had made her feel things she had never felt before.
She suddenly felt very foolish for what she had done. Running away like a child. Biting her nose off to spite her face. Her tears continued to fall as she felt her heart breaking. She was filled with remorse. Her heart ached for him. She reached for a box of Kleenex nearby and cried for another fifteen minutes straight.
Once her tears dried up, she started to think about things again from a different angle. Portia came to mind. She recalled the lunch she saw her having with Giorgio, how familiar and close and intimate they had seemed. How Giorgio hadn’t said anything about it. How cold and rude and dismissive Portia had been to her at the ball as she dragged Giorgio away from where they had slipped away to, to be alone. Then, her persistent late-night texts tracking him down and asking for him to come back.
And he did. He got out of bed with her to go see Portia because she demanded it. What did that say? It sure didn’t say that what happened between them was all that compelling for him. Then she started to wonder how many times he had been in that situation, doing things like he did with her. Maybe that was a familiar date night for him, something he had done with countless women.
Her mind dwelled on the bad possibilities and she felt upset and angry again. He had come back hours later, reeking of alcohol. Never once checking back in with her. He just sauntered back when he felt like it. Anabelle thought of the message that sent. That he’d come and go as he pleased and that another woman was pulling some of his strings. It was obvious to her that Portia had other designs on him. A woman could tell. How far that relationship went, she felt sick to think about.
Anabelle now felt glad she left. She was not going to be treated like that. If he wanted to play that game, he could play it with someone else. She wasn’t going to be toyed with. And she wanted nothing to do with Portia. Then, she remembered what she had overheard in the bathroom. It made no sense. Portia obviously had desires for Giorgio, so why would she try to hurt him? Maybe she had been mistaken, maybe that hadn’t been Portia. She had only met her that night, she could be wrong. But still, she had a very bad feeling about Portia. There was much more to that woman than she would likely ever know, or want to know. Her skin crawled. She didn’t want people and situations like this in her life.
Anabelle gripped the blanket tighter. Jasper had fallen asleep. She looked at him, so carefree. His mommy was back and all was well in his world again. But she didn’t have that luxury.
What happened with Aaron came rushing back to her like a nightmare that just wouldn’t leave. She felt the stabs of pain again over his betrayal, how he had cruelly and abruptly abandoned her for another woman. And he had just been a college student. They had been together for two years. That felt like a lifetime to a young person. He’d fallen for someone else, right in front of her. A fellow student. Someone she knew. She’d been so consumed with her schoolwork and comfortable in her place with Aaron that she hadn’t seen it coming. The suddenness and shock of it had been brutal. She had never really gotten over the damage that it had caused to both her self-esteem and sense of safety. Anabelle compared that situation to the one she faced now.
This one could be way more dangerous and heartbreaking. These were rich, smart, successful people who knew what they wanted and went after it, no matter the barrier or risk. They could literally do almost anything they wanted at any time with the resources at their disposal. And she’d never know.
Sarah was right, they could play her for the fool all day long if she let them and then just toss her aside like a broken used-up novelty toy. Her attraction to Giorgio was too potent. She needed distance, or she’d never be able to see or think straight. She could easily run headlong into disaster.
Anabelle considered the possibility that Giorgio was actually fully aware of his effect on women and used it. Maybe he just played modest and sweet to take maximum advantage of a situation. She replayed what he had ended up leading her to do last night. At a formal, high society event. Sneaking her away for a sexual recess. She had practically ended up behaving like a porn star, after which he just carried on with his evening, as though nothing had happened. Just a quick distraction for him. She started to feel really, really stupid and gullible.
For all she knew, her actions had made him mad enough to dump her anyway. Maybe it was all out of her hands and she wouldn’t have to figure out what to do next. She felt very confused and emotionally pummeled.
Finally, after over an hour of tormenting herself with her zigzagging fears, she drifted off into a light sleep, her mind too exhausted to keep up the torture.
Anabelle awoke with a start to the sound of her phone ringing. Jasper had still been curled up next to her on the sofa and got a fright when she suddenly moved. He jumped down. Anabelle tried to get her bearings, waking from a fog. She looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after 10 a.m. She got up to look at the caller ID on her phone. It was Giorgio. She felt frozen in place. She panicked and didn’t know what to do. The phone rang and rang, then finally went to voicemail. Her heart pounded, wondering what his reaction was going to be. Wondering what the future was going to look like. She thought about not listening to the message right away, but she couldn’t do it. She saw the voicemail light start to flash. She punched in her code to listen to it.
“Anabelle, it’s me, Giorgio. I just woke up and you were gone. I don’t understand.” She could tell from the sound of his voice that he’d just awoken and was confused and upset. “I mean I read your note, but still. I can’t believe you just left without talking to me first. Call me back.” There was a pause. “I wish you hadn’t left. I don’t get it.” He hung up the phone.
Her heart jumped to her throat, hearing his deep voice on the phone asking for her. All of the walls she had tried to build up in her mind came crashing down. He had such a magnetic pull for her. Even just hearing his voice on the phone. It was as if he had the secret code to her heart and could just punch it in and reach her whenever he felt like it, no matter the barriers she tried to put up. She got up and paced the room, running her fingers through her hair. She was an emotional mess. This man…he meant something to her…something very important.
Still panicking and undecided as to what to say to him, Anabelle put a pot of coffee on. She felt horribly out of sorts from the lack of sleep and hoped a good jolt of caffeine would help her get some courage and clarity. She wanted to talk to him, but her emotions were still a ragged, jumbled mess.
Twenty minutes later Anabelle was startled when her cell phone beeped, causing her to spill her coffee as she poured it. “Ow!” she shouted, as the hot coffee spilled onto her hand, the counter and now dripped onto the floor. She was feeling very jumpy. “Crap!” she said as she grabbed a cloth to wipe it up. She ran some cold water over her hand where the coffee had burned her. She dried her hands and went to take a look at her phone. Giorgio had texted her:
It’s me, where are you? Why did you leave? Pls call me back. G. xo
She sighed. She poured herself a second cup of coffee, took the phone, and went and sat back down on the sofa. She set the phone down beside her. She had a few sips of coffee then texted him back, ignoring his request to call him. She wasn’t ready:
I’m at home, just got up. Sorry I missed your call. I needed to get back. I’ll call you later, k? xo
Anabelle nervously hit send and then took another sip of coffee. She knew she was stalling, but she still didn’t have her mind wrapped around what she would say to him yet. She really didn’t want to get into an argument with him, and she was afraid that was exactly where this was heading. Still, she felt a bit cowardly. The seconds and minutes ticked by in agonizing uncertainty as she awaited his reaction to another of her rebuffs.
Ten
minutes later she got her answer as her home phone rang again. She set her coffee down and looked at the display. It was him. Presumably wanting to know if she was telling the truth about being home. She bit her lip and with a sweaty palm picked up the phone.
“Hi,” she said. Her throat felt constricted.
“Hi? That’s all you have to say?” He was upset.
“Um…are you still at the hotel?”
She heard a frustrated huff on the other end. “Yes, I am. Alone.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Waking up alone after our night together was a little…unsettling.”
“I left you a note…” she started to say.
“Don’t even…” he paused, realizing how mad he was. He let out a heavy sigh. “I’d like an explanation, Anabelle. I think I deserve that much.”
She swallowed hard. She desperately wanted to avoid a fight. “I just…I couldn’t sleep, I was worried about Jasper, I thought I may as well just head home. The ball was over and…”
“Anabelle,” he snapped. “In everything you just listed, what’s missing?”
She hesitated. “It’s really nothing to be upset about, I just thought…”
“Please answer the question,” he said, cutting her off.
She bit her lip.
“Fine,” he said, his voice tightening. “I’ll answer it for you if you’re going to be that stubborn.”
Uh oh, here we go, she thought.
“I’m what’s missing from your thoughts. Me. The guy who brought you to the ball, the guy who you had your hands all over. The guy who got us a room so we could escape an uncomfortable situation for you. The guy who you...had a very intimate night with.” His voice sounded strained. “The guy who you left in bed afterwards without a word.”
Love in the City, an erotic romance novel Page 20
