Blurred Lines

by Jennifer K. Brand

  “Now I see why you brought me here. It’s breathtaking.” I turned to see him strolling towards me. Breathtaking indeed. I still couldn’t get over how gorgeous he was. His dark hair such a contrast to those light eyes. Eyes that I’d seen twinkle with laughter and turn dark with lust. He removed his shirt and tossed it on the table near the mini fridge where it knocked off a water glass. I didn’t even register the glass falling because my eyes were set on his stomach… that happy trail that I was dying to lick.

  He stood in front of me and bent to kiss me. “I didn’t bring you here for the view, though mine right now is the most beautiful one I’ve ever seen.”

  “Ah, so it was so you could have your way with me.” I smiled. “We were doing plenty of that in Barcelona if I remember correctly”

  “With Macy interrupting every damn second. I needed to get you away from all the distractions.”

  “Well, mission accomplished. Now what?”

  “Now we test how sturdy these beds are.” He lifted me up and threw me on the bed where I landed with a bounce. He was on top of me in seconds. “I want to devour you,” he said, tagging on my small shorts.

  And that’s exactly what he did. By the time we were heading to dinner, I was well and truly satisfied.

  ***

  Later on, we walked hand in hand towards the dining room and found a band setting up. This was the funniest thing about large hotel complexes in Spain, the nightly entertainment. I always found it amusing that they would get Spaniards to perform American music when I would have much rather listened to Spanish music.

  I went to the buffet table and heaped a plate of food, which earned me a smirk from him.

  “What? You took all my energy mister, I need it back,” I said laughing. I felt buoyant. Everything was going just perfect. He lifted his hands in mock surrender and we walked back to our seats.

  The band started out with a tune I knew oh so well and for once I didn’t mind the lack of Spanish music. The singer’s rich voice filled the room.

  “There’s a street in Los Angeles called Camino Palmero.” The singer said in heavily accented English. “This is where some members of a band called The Calling grew up. And now for their biggest hit.” He looked around the room.

  Not many people acknowledged the singer. Too busy with their food. So I nodded my head vigorously. I loved The Calling and I knew just what song the singer would be singing.

  The music which had stopped at the singer’s little speech, resumed. I started singing along and was surprised to hear him join me. We were laughing by the time the song was over. He’d decided to serenade me and went all the way to the front to grab the singer’s microphone. I’m a bit of an introvert so being at the center of attention was strange, but he made it seem like it was just the two of us.

  I could fall in love with this man.

  I woke up with a start. It had not been Hector’s message to me after all. Davide had been here! How had I not seen it? It was not a coincidence at all that I was in the same room I’d been in a year ago when we met. He was trying to communicate with me. This was his way of saying… saying what? I had to remember the lyrics. I searched for my phone and found it tucked in the front pocket of my suitcase. I opened up the music player and pressed play on Wherever You Will Go by The Calling.

  I started weeping then. Ugly fat tears that ran down my cheeks. I meant something to him. I knew I hadn’t made that up. Why else would he risk coming back to The Q just to remind me of that perfect summer day in Vielha last year? Did he really mean the words though? I listened to the third verse again.

  God. My heart was breaking. I could hear it tearing down in half. Life’s irony that I would find him in such dire circumstances. That I would find out how he feels the night before I had to leave him forever. I folded myself in half and cried for what could have been. What might have been. I wanted to send him a message. Tell him that I’d wait till he found a way back to me but I was afraid Hector would intercept it and we’d all be in a shit load of trouble.

  I couldn’t do that to Davide. Whatever reason he had to stay behind must have been a strong one. Stronger than what he felt for me. Could I go back looking for him? Could I endanger him and myself for a relationship that seemed doomed from the start?

  I wanted to be selfish and try. I wanted to go back to Hector and tell him to fuck off with his threats, that Davide and I knew each other and wanted each other. But that would be a fast ride to the grave for both of us. If Davide could sit and hope that someday we could be together, then it was up to me to make that happen.

  I would go back to New York. I would go back to my job and my life. But I would find a way back to Davide. I wasn’t naïve. I knew that life played by its own set of rules, mocking us as we planned, but I would plan anyway. I didn’t expect anyone to understand. How would anyone comprehend the idea of a soul mate if they didn’t believe in one? If they’ve never met someone and known with a bone deep conviction that this is what they’ve always been missing?

  Davide had his mission, whatever that was. I had just found mine.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Two weeks after coming back to New York and I was finally settling in. Born and bred in Georgetown, Kentucky, I had always craved life in the big city. I wanted anonymity and now I had it. I walked quickly past the hotdog vendors that lined the streets and rushed to the Miller and Miller offices on Lexington Avenue.

  My bosses had been very accommodating after my return from Barcelona. I’d taken a sabbatical for the trip and they had not been thrilled about the idea. I honestly had not thought about the repercussions and was too excited to find Davide to care. Coming back I expected to find a pink slip, instead, I found I had been moved from a cubical to my very own office with a plaque that said ‘Lori Brinkley’ in shiny gold letters and my very own paralegal to boot. Macy, who knew everything about everyone, told me that a client had insisted on my raise.

  I was good at my job. I’d been the top of my class at George Washington and finished top five in NYU. Brains I had in plenty. However, I was still not very high up at Miller and Miller and I doubted anyone other than my supervisors had noticed my slaving away at all hours of the day. Certainly no clients bothered looking my way when the senior partners were in the room. So yes, it was strange that I’d gotten a semi raise. But I wasn’t complaining. If it was an oversight, I’d enjoy it while it lasted.

  It had been a busy one week and I had been avoiding Macy to some extent. She was very inquisitive and I didn’t have the news she expected about Barcelona. But it was Friday and I knew she was dying for details.

  During lunch, I heard an excited tap tap tap on the door and I knew it was her. I sighed. Time to get this over and done with.

  “Hi Lorraina!” she said, excitedly jumping on the little space on my cluttered desk. My name is actually just Lori, but she insisted on calling me Lorraina when she wanted to annoy me.

  “Hi Macinda” I replied. Two could play that game. She scowled at me. “Lorraina is actually a much prettier name than Macinda.”

  “You’re just jealous I came up with a worse fake name for you.” I smiled, realizing that I’d really missed her.

  “I’m going to ignore that and get to why I came by, even though my boss is working me like a slave.” She gave a dramatic huff. “So today is girls night. Me, you and Jose.”

  “Who’s Jose? Sounds suspiciously like a dude.” I narrowed my eyes at her. If she was trying to hook me up I swear to God…

  “You know, my best friend Jose, who never comes by without his buddies salt and lemon.” She wiggled her eyebrows and I laughed. Tequila. The damn wench knew Tequila was like truth serum to me.

  “I only drink Patrón, Macinda, you know that.”

  “Ha! Since when could you afford Patrón? Unless they’ve already given you an advance on your raise, it’s Jose Cuervo for you.”

  “Fine! Fine! Which bar are we having this shindig anyway?”

  “Not a bar my friend. Th
e tequila is to extract every little detail about Barcelona from you. And since I expect it to sound like the audio version of Kamasutra, I need us to be in the comfort of my house. Or yours.”

  I gave a mental sigh. I’d forgotten how she was. I needed to get out of this, though I didn’t know how much more avoiding I could do.

  “And don’t try to get out of it. I know for a fact that they’ve started you off easy this week so you don’t have to work. Plus, to sweeten the deal, I have a secret for you.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I know which client insisted on your raise!”

  “Oh my God! Really? Tell me!”

  “Nope, not until I get every sordid detail about Barcelona. Your place, 8 o’clock. And make that stir fry I love.” She stood up ready to leave. I wasn’t going to get this information from her until she was ready to tell me.

  “Fine. My place. But no stir fry for you. I’ll order in some pizza.”

  She made a face, “fine. Later then Lorraina!”

  I sighed. I was going to have to come up with a convincing story soon, before Macy the hawk could smell a rat.

  ***

  The day went by fast and soon enough I was hailing a cab to my apartment. I lived in Brooklyn, in a nice but small one bedroom apartment in Williamsburg that I was very proud of.

  I immediately went to my room, put Camino Palmero in the cd player, placed track 4 on rewind and headed to the bathroom. This had become my ritual. I played Wherever You Will Go on rewind until it drove me insane. Then I played it some more.

  The haunting sounds of Alex Band came on and I undressed to them. Almost as if I was giving Davide a private show. It wasn’t healthy this obsession of mine. Far from it. But I wasn’t letting go.

  I lathered up and washed my hair in record time. My body followed and I was almost done when my favorite part of the song came on.

  I had a different favorite part almost every time I listened to the song, but the end haunted me. Those two lines haunted me, and I always ended up teary. Sometimes sitting with my back on the wall water cascading all around me mixing up with my tears, other times spurring me on to find Davide again.

  At times when I was feeling particularly self-reflective, I would realize that I was being overdramatic. I probably would never see Davide again. It was a hard truth that I would have to face. But most times I showed the middle finger to self reflection and went on with my belief that we would be together.

  In the 3 minutes and 29 seconds it took to complete the song, I was out of the bathroom. The song restarted and I put on my favorite Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs pajamas on. Macy hated them, she found the dwarfs creepy. Tough. She’d have to see them tonight.

  I dried my hair and called for pizza delivery. Just when I was hanging up, I heard the doorbell ring. Macy was early. Damn. Showtime.

  I opened the door with my biggest brightest smile plastered on my face. Macy’s eyes narrowed at the smile, then widened when she noticed my jammies. It was comical how expressive her face was.

  “You have to remove those creepy things!”

  “No way! Infact, I’m thinking of buying you an exact pair and enforcing a rule that you wear them every time you visit.”

  “Never! I’d rather walk on hot coals.”

  I laughed. Now there’s a thought.

  “Tequila?” she raised the bottle of Jose Cuervo in the air, “check!”

  Right then the doorbell rang again. This is what I loved about take out. Delivery services were so fast.

  “Pizza? Check!” I said dropping it on the kitchen island. I pulled out some plates and laid them on the small table in my even smaller living room. Macy joined me with sliced lemon and salt and we sat down.

  “Okay, spill it,” she said settling herself down on the carpet.

  “Can’t I eat first?”

  “No! I’m dying to hear all about Señor Spain.”

  “He’s actually from Italy. I’ve told you this before.”

  “Poh-tay-toh Poh-tah-toh” she said in an annoying sing song voice.

  “God, you’re ignorant sometimes. So I went to Barcelona, found Davide still working at The Q, we fucked like rabbits. End of story.”

  “No way. Ah-ah. Start from the beginning. Was he surprised? Was Elton John singing Can You Feel The Love Tonight as you both ran towards each other in slow motion?”

  “My life is not a Disney movie Macy.” I rolled my eyes. “He was surprised to see me, and I was worried he’d moved on but he hadn’t. Said his job at the hotel was too demanding for a girlfriend and we just picked up right where we left off.”

  “How demanding can a hotel manager job be? But whatever, no skunk whores to beat down. Lucky for you. So will you see him again?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s pretty busy.”

  “Being a hotel manager?” she looked skeptical. “Is this hotel moving to the moon? He can take a break and come see you here.”

  “We didn’t talk about it. Maybe we will.”

  “Oh so he gave you his number? Because the number on the card he gave you last time wasn’t working when we got here.”

  “I didn’t, uhm, get his number.”

  “What? Why not?!”

  “Look, you’re the one who kept pushing me to have one night stands. I had one. Now time to move on.”

  “No. You had one, pinned over the guy for a year and went back looking for him. I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Macy was too perceptive and I was surprised and mortified to feel tears in my eyes. Damn it!

  “Oh sweetie. What did he do? If he never wants to see you again, then his loss. You’re beautiful and intelligent and if he can’t see that then he needs his eyes and brain examined.”

  I listened to her tirade nodding and wiping my eyes. Better she think Davide blew me off than find out I was kidnapped.

  “We need a distraction and I know just the thing. First, a shot,” said Macy already placing a pinch of salt on the crook between her thumb and forefinger. I followed suit and pinched my face at the bitter taste. Why oh why do I always say yes to tequila?!

  “So get this,” Macy said excitedly placing her shot glass down with a grimace. “Jennifer, Patrick Miller’s paralegal, told Nina from accounting that Raffaele D’Amato came in a few days ago and the only thing on the agenda was your promotion.”

  I felt my jaw drop. Fuck!

  “He said that he was extremely proud of the entire team’s handling of his case and especially your professionalism.”

  “My what?”

  “Exactly. No offense, but I’m pretty damn professional, where’s my promotion?”

  “I’m sure there must be a mistake. And anyway, Nina is a gossip, she probably made it all up.”

  “Then how would you explain your promotion?”

  “I don’t know. Someone complained about my playing loud music at the cubicles and they decided to sequester me by giving me my own space?”

  “Right. Because the Millers are such humanitarians. No. Something’s up. Maybe he has a crush on you…” she mused, then suddenly got excited. “How exciting would that be? Your very own sugar daddy to make you forget Davide what’s-his-face!”

  “Well, I’ve sworn off men, so whatever his motive, I hope I get to keep the office.”

  We finished up the large pizza and took more shots. Soon enough we were too drunk for normal conversation, so we settled for singing very loudly and off key. My poor neighbors would be complaining in the morning.

  All in all, it was exactly what I needed. A night in with my best friend plus alcohol to numb my memory of Davide. However, at the back of my mind, the name Raffaele D’Amato rang loud and clear.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I woke up with a pounding headache. Macy was already awake and in the kitchen banging pots and pans too loudly for my poor head.

  “Would you keep it down?” I yelled. I wasn’t much of a morning person.

  “I’m making you breakfast, you should be more gr
ateful.”

  I rolled my eyes and made my way to the bathroom. A long shower was exactly what I needed to keep my sanity.

  I dressed up fast, put my hair up in a bun and joined a cheery Macy in the kitchen. I never understood how she always woke up without much of a hangover after tequila. Now sangria was a different issue.

  “So, what’s the plan for today?

  “I’m going to catch up on some work.”

  “You’re kidding me! You just came back, we should do something fun.”

  “I’ve been away for too long, I have to catch up. And thanks to you, I’ll have to kill off my hangover first.” I felt bad lying to Macy, but I planned to do some investigating and no way was I going to inform her.

  “Fine then, maybe see you tonight?”

  “Sure thing.”

  We had breakfast and she caught me up on more office gossip. I hated gossip but it was the only way to know who to suck up to and who would be promoted. After breakfast Macy stood up, gathered her things and left. I went and got a bottle of cold water from the fridge and settled down in front of the computer. First things first, all mentions of Raffaele D’Amato on Google.

  I wasn’t surprised to find articles upon articles on his suspected involvement in the drug trade. Nothing ever pinned on him though. I checked up on anything that could give me a clue on his background but everything I found almost romanticized him. Photos of him at different functions with gorgeous women on his arm filled his image search. He was truly handsome but the dark eyes on him gave me the creeps.

  After a fruitless search, I logged into the Miller and Miller’s intranet and started my search on the databases. At first, all that came up was his case details, and a look through them indicated what I already knew, my access was limited so I’d only get the basic information. If I wanted to get more information, I’d have to get more access.