Behind Her Smile (17 page)

Read Behind Her Smile Online

Authors: Olivia Luck

Tags: #Behind Her Smile

BOOK: Behind Her Smile
10.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Alec turns to face me. “What is it about you that makes me want to tell you things I haven’t thought about, much less spoken about, in years?”

“Probably whatever reason turns me into a blabbermouth when I’m with you.”

“Karolina . . .” A heavy sigh makes him look tired.

All of a sudden, I’m scared that he’ll want to leave. The only authentic conversation I’ve had in ages, and I don’t want it to end. I want Alec to stay with me. “Tell me about your work,” I blurt in a feeble attempt to keep him engaged.

“I own a few of factories,” he says vaguely.

“That’s it?” I ask skeptically, looking pointedly at the unmistakable Hermes loafers covering his feet.

“One time, I told you how I value information.” I nod, indicating I remember. “People come to me to make introductions, to make connections, to grow their business—legit or otherwise. At the end of the day, they come to me because they all want the same thing: more money. Information is a powerful thing, Karolina, and I have it. Why do you think your husband continues to request my attendance? When David needs an introduction to a new client, he comes to me. You can’t imagine how much he hates having to ask for my help.”

I have an idea.

“What do you get from having all this information? It doesn’t sound lucrative enough to casually wear a pair of thousand-dollar shoes.” I almost clamp my hand over my mouth in surprise at my own brashness. If I were to speak this way to my husband . . .

Alec doesn’t give me time to think about that nasty reality. “What did I say about you being contrarian? I like it. Your honesty is refreshing, Karolina.” Alec grins, and my chest flutters in response. “For a man like me, power is more alluring than the most addictive vice. When you hold the most wealthy and influential men in your back pocket, you become addicted to the thrill of calling in a favor.” As if to prove his point, a vibration sounds from the inside of his pants pocket. Alec silences the phone and tilts his head to look at me. His dark eyes turn liquid and then trail down my face to my lips.

“What’s your drug, Karolina?”

How this moment went from platonic to sensually charged is beyond me. “Alec—I don’t think . . .” He lifts a hand to cup my jaw, and his gesture steals all rational thought from me.

“Don’t think,” he rasps as he inches closer to me. His face fills my entire field of vision and then it clicks.

I scramble backward, stupidly putting weight on my wrist when I push against the bench to stand. A sharp burst of pain causes me to yelp. Alec winces, but I don’t allow him to speak. The throbbing comes from two places—my wrist and my heart. Once again, I prove to myself just how stupid I can be by trusting the wrong person.

“Power—that’s what all of this is about, isn’t it, Alec? You want to exert your control over my husband through me. Congratulations. You convinced the naïve, lonely woman that you wanted to be her friend.” I shake my head in disgust. “Stay away from me, Alec. I don’t want to play with you.” I grab my purse off the bench and stalk away, furious at myself for falling for this charming man’s advances. He’s just as bad as David. Maybe worse.

A hand wraps around my bicep, pulling me to a stop. “Karolina, if you have to leave, then leave. But I can’t allow you to walk away thinking that I would betray your trust. This is
not
a game to me.”

“Leave me alone, Alec.” My head falls forward, and my shoulders slump down.

His deep voice sounds a breath away from my ear. “I don’t think I can do that.” His lips tickle my ear. I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Let me be your friend, Karolina. I can’t bear to think of you as lonely.”

My stomach clenches. Only a friend? I need one badly. There’s sincerity in his voice. I can believe him. I want to believe him. I
will
believe him. “Please don’t make me regret saying yes,” I whisper, still not looking at him.

“Never,” he vows. “Give me your cell number.”

The declarative command reminds me so much of David that I don’t respond at first. I drift away to a world where my husband makes all of the decisions and I trail along behind limply.

“Please,” Alec adds in my hesitancy. The word is my undoing.

As I rattle off the numbers, I remind myself it’s been six months since Alec contacted me. It will probably be another six months, if ever, that he uses those digits to call me.

After Alec leaves and I call Carlo for a ride, I beg off the rest of my social engagements for the day by calling the head of the planning committee for the breast cancer awareness tea to tell her I’m not feeling up to a meeting. Unfortunately, the head of the planning committee is Adriana Martinez. You’d never know Adriana and her husband, Hector, have amassed the wealth of a small island nation. She’s one of those people you would describe as the salt of the earth: kind, humble, giving.

The Martinez’s are David’s white whale. He wants their business so badly he practically salivates every time I tell him about a meeting with Adriana. Thus far, Hector hasn’t bit any of the bait my husband has sent his way. The last thing David wants to be is a pest, so he eased up on Hector. Meanwhile, he has strongly encouraged I befriend Adriana. He’ll be disappointed to know I had to miss time with Adriana. Then again, he’s the reason I’m holing up in the house licking my wounds.

I should be furious with David. No, I should stalk out of this house with the clothes on my back and never return. But where would I go? What would I do? I don’t even have a college degree or, except for one tiny savings, my own bank account. My husband has tied up any form of money I have. All the accounts are joint, credit cards linked. One large ATM withdrawal and David will know that I’m gone. Then what? If I left him and he found me, a broken wrist would be the least of my worries.

If only I could seek some solace in my designs, but the damaged wrist is on my dominant hand. I settle into one of the oversized leather chairs in the media room to watch a movie. There are three tiered rows of seats in the room with a massive projector screen and absolutely no ambient light to disrupt the picture. This was the only room I insisted to David that we not change when we redecorated the house because, really, what can you do to improve upon an in-home movie theater?

“Mrs. Karolina, would you like something to eat?” Miranda, silent as ever, hovers next to my chair, wearing a kind smile.

“Maybe some iced tea. And if we have popcorn, that would be really lovely,” I say. Miranda dips her head in a nod and shifts to leave. “Wait, Miranda.” She cocks her head toward me, waiting patiently. “I want to thank you for taking care of me yesterday. You’re always incredibly kind to me and I am grateful for you.” The older woman stares at me in silence. Then, to my complete shock, she stoops down and presses a kiss to my crown of my head.


De nada, mija.

I let the sentiment wash over me in calming waves. For the second time today, someone touched me and I felt the warmth of genuine emotion all the way to my core. Despite the broken wrist, it’s the best I’ve felt in weeks or, more likely, months.

I’m halfway through a bowl of freshly popped popcorn when my cell phone buzzes from the chair next to me.
David calling.
Part of me wants to ignore the call, but I know it will anger him.

“Hi,” I answer after pausing the movie.

“How are you feeling, my jewel?” he asks immediately.

“Better today. This morning I went for a walk around the botanical gardens and now I’m watching
My Big Fat Greek Wedding.
” Shit. It’s not until I say the movie title out loud that I realize the inspiration for my movie choice. Freud would have a field day with this one.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, Karolina. I’ve been worried sick about you.” He sounds genuine enough. The thousands of miles separating us makes me bold.

“Then why did you . . .” I can’t bear to finish the sentence. What am I thinking? Baiting David like this. “Why did you leave?” I finish lamely.

“You’re absolutely right. I should have canceled my trip. But your injury was on such short notice, and I’ve been planning these meetings for several months. I promise to make it up to you when I get back, my jewel. How about a vacation? Just the two of us. We could probably both use a few days away. Naples is wonderful this time of year, and I know you love it there.”

Actually,
you
love Naples. I find it pretentious.
“Sure,” I agree halfheartedly.

“Karolina, you sound tired.”

“I am. Would you mind if we hung up? I’m sorry to cut the call short, David, but I could use some rest.” In reality, I want off the phone with him. This conversation, with all its false pleasantries, is nauseating.

“Of course, my jewel. I’ll call you tomorrow in your morning time.”

“Good-bye, David,” I say quietly.

He disconnects with a click, leaving me with
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
and a little peace.

 

True to his word, the next morning my cell phone wakes me from a deep sleep. Without bothering to look at the screen, I accept the call and mumble a sleepy greeting.

“Did I wake you?” The velvety masculine voice on the other line definitely doesn’t belong to my husband.

“Alec,” I gasp incredulously, ignoring the immediate rush of pleasure I get from hearing his friendly voice.

He laughs; a husky sound that breaks me out of my confusion and makes my stomach have a weird reaction. “Don’t sound so surprised. I said I would call.”

“You did, but twenty-four hours hasn’t passed since you asked for my number.”

“Never been a man to pass up an opportunity, Karolina. What do you have planned today?”

It’s nice for once to have someone ask what my plans are instead of telling me. Settling back against the pillows, I pause to run my normally planned activities through my mind. Gym. Lunch with the Junior League. None sounds as appealing as spending time with someone who doesn’t have any expectations of how I should or should not behave.

“Nothing as of yet. As you guessed, your call woke me up,” I reply.

“Would you like to accompany me on my boat?”

“Yes,” I answer instantly without thinking.

Alec pauses. I can almost hear him thinking through the phone.

Eagerness is not an attractive trait, Karolina. Hold your reactions in check. Do not speak without thinking through the consequences.
David gave me that lecture many times in the past. Alec doesn’t make me feel like I need to follow all those social rules.

“I’ll send a driver to pick you up in an hour. Is that enough time?” he finally says.

“More than enough. Thank you for the invitation, Alec. A day on the water is just what I need,” I say sincerely.

“It’s my pleasure.” His words trickle through me temptingly. I don’t know if he’s trying to provoke me, but an uncomfortable warmth stirs low in my belly. I shouldn’t enjoy his company this much. It’s not right. I open my mouth to change my mind, but Alec cuts me off. “See you soon, Karolina.”

After we disconnect, I notice a text from David saying that he won’t be able to call me until the evening. Immediately, I sigh with relief, knowing he is preoccupied with work. With him out of the country, I don’t fear him finding out about my activities. For better or worse, I’m spending more time with Alec Christos.

 

This isn’t the first time I’ve been on a luxury boat. William bought a yacht before his passing, and we have it docked outside the house on the Coral Gables waterway. But this, Alec’s boat, is palatial. Gorgeous. Impressive. It bobs along the length of the private slip. From the lower level—there are two visible, and at least one deck below, I bet—Alec watches me cross the dock from behind tortoise shell Wayfarer sunglasses. The white t-shirt he wears accentuates his dark, tanned skin and flat abdomen. Red swim trunks display his narrow waist and strong legs. His casual dress makes me instantly comfortable. I like that around Alec there are no formal expectations.

As I draw closer, Alec moves to the bridge to greet me.

“Welcome, Karolina.” His masculine scent teases my senses when he steps close to help me aboard. One hand cups my elbow as I step onto the gently swaying boat.

“Thank you,” I say. “What an incredible vessel.” I sound stodgy to my own ears.
Lighten up! This isn’t one of David’s clients.

Alec glances over his shoulder as though he forgot about the enormous boat. “Hmm,” he says in noncommittal agreement. “Can I get you something to drink?” I allow him to guide me through the narrow passageways until we reach the upper-level deck. There’s a round table set for two beneath an awning providing shade.

“Water. Sparkling, if you have it, please.”

“Of course.” I hear another pair of footsteps, likely a member of the staff walking away from us to fulfill the order.

“If you’re hungry now, we can eat. Otherwise, I thought we’d enjoy the open air first.”

“Would it be okay if we waited to eat? I’d love to sit on the bench.” I gesture to the white padded seat along the edge of the balcony.

“Your shot, Karolina. Whatever you want,” he explains further at my confused expression.

I’m not used to making my own choices like this, and for a minute, I’m not sure how to take the lead. “Okay. Let’s sit.”

One of the boat’s staff appears to present me with a clear glass garnished with a lime wedge. He places it on a cocktail table adjacent to a bench. Alec waves a hand ahead in an “after you” gesture. Grateful that I had the fortitude to wear shorts, I fold my legs at the knee and tuck them into my side when I curl into the plush bench. The carbonated water is refreshing as it trickles down my throat. With a contented sigh, I settle into my seat and watch the shoreline drift away as the boat plunges through the water.

“What’s her name?”

Without explanation, Alec knows I’m referring to the yacht. “
Dýnami.
It means strength.”

Shifting, I angle my face toward his and grin at him. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

Alec lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Heritage is important to me, Karolina. Where you come from may not define you, but it does lay the groundwork for who you will become—in spite of it or otherwise.”

Other books

Lark Ascending by Meagan Spooner
Destroyer of Worlds by Jordan L. Hawk
Her Little White Lie by Maisey Yates
Buried for Pleasure by Edmund Crispin
Brawler by Scott Hildreth
The Fight to Survive by Terry Bisson