High Stakes Seduction - Book 4 (4 page)

Chapter Eight

The rest of the day had gone by slowly, but without any undue stress. My co-workers prodded me for details of the cruise, and I obliged. On several levels, it was fun to relive the experience. Or at least the ones I was willing to discuss.

They'd begged for photos, so the next day I brought in a flash drive filled with several of my favorite pictures from the trip. Not wanting to get on Priscilla's bad side, I kept my sharing to lunch and on my breaks.

“You seriously got stranded in a volcano?” Nevia asked, wide-eyed as I shared my photos and my tale.

I laughed. “Not
in
a volcano, just on the volcano tour. Our van went off the road on our way back to port. That was the really scary part. But we all managed to hold on and the whole thing was over pretty quick. Nobody was hurt—thank goodness—even though those buses don't have seatbelts. I did worry about getting back to the ship in time, but even that was taken care of. The hotel they put us up in before they flew us to the next port was luxurious!”
Besides
, I thought,
my "reunion" with Antonio had almost made the whole thing worth it.

Janice from the shoe department nudged me with an elbow. “So any hot guys down on the pool deck?”

“Well, we did share a table with three cute college grads one night, but mostly it was just older couples and newlyweds on honeymoon,” I said, flipping to the next picture on the computer screen. "But there was still some nice eye-candy around."
Including Antonio, even though he never had time to hang out at the pool
.

I’d selected several images from the island visits. A lot of them were landscapes and buildings, some featuring the islanders in bright and colorful contrast to the gray stone. I had a few pictures of couples on the cruise, but nothing posed.

"Oh," pouted Janice. "I was hoping you had a sweet island romance you could share with us."

If you only knew,
I thought, sure that my cheeks were suddenly very red.

"It wasn't that kind of trip, Janice. My time was taken up with other duties… like scouting out locations for showcasing Carlo and Poula's designs. I only wish there'd been more romance."

"Well, a girl can dream can't she?" Janice laughed as she headed back out onto the floor.

Yes, a girl could certainly dream. Regardless of how things actually turned out.
I sighed, relieved that lunch break was over so I could go find something else to occupy my mind. The photos had brought back too many memories—some were still too raw to think about while I was here. In
his
store. Where he might show up at any minute. 

Chapter Nine

"Angela, please take this to Mr. Mancini's office," Priscilla held out a stack of papers.

Damn! The last thing I wanted was to run into Antonio. I still wasn't sure how I would react, or what I might end up saying to him.

"What is it?" Priscilla asked impatiently.

"Mmm, sorry," I replied. No need to get her hackles up two days in a row. I took a deep breath and set my shoulders as I reached for the folders. Time to beard the lion in his den, I thought. 

Maybe I'll get lucky and he won't be there
, I hoped as I rode up the elevator. The doors opened way too quickly, giving me only a moment to regain my composure before stepping out.

"Hilary," I smiled as Mancini's secretary turned toward the sound of the elevator doors opening.

"Angela Tilson, you look well rested. Was it a good trip?"

Uh Oh. "Oh, very adventurous. I'm sure your boss has clued you in."

"Not likely," she laughed. "He's pretty private with the details of his life."

Really? Well, that was something, anyway. "Priscilla asked me to bring these up to him." I pointed at the files in my hand.

"Oh, the weekly projections. Thanks, I'll take those. He's … um … busy at the moment."

It was clear from the scowl on her face that whatever he was "busy" with wasn't to her liking.

Suddenly the door flew open and Naomi stepped out, laughing that sharp laugh of hers as she turned to face the outer office. "Tony, you are just too much!"

When she spotted me, her eyes narrowed and she turned back to Antonio, who was stepping through the doorway. "Let's go for lunch first, at our favorite little shop," she purred as she placed her hand on his chest.

He smiled down at her. "Whatever you say."

I watched them in stony silence. Naomi turned back towards me and Hilary. "If Donatelli calls while we're out, tell him it's going to be a loooong lunch," she said to Hilary, fluttering her eyelashes back up at Antonio.

His eyes darkened as he noticed me standing there. Then a hooded expression dropped almost immediately after.

"Are those for me, Hilary?" he asked, indicating the file folders I'd just given her.

"Yes, Mr. Mancini. The weeklies from Priscilla."

"Fine. Just put them on my desk, I'll look at them after we get back. Angela," he said, nodding in my direction as they left, his hand firmly in the middle of Naomi's back, guiding her expertly into the elevator.

I didn't dare turn to look at them, holding my breath until I heard the doors slick shut.

"Useless woman," Hilary shook her head in disgust. "I don't know why she keeps showing up in his life. I thought they were done a long time ago."

I'm sure I must have had the "deer in the headlights" look on my face. As soon as I'd heard Naomi's voice, my stomach had clenched into a tight little knot that wasn’t going to release any time soon.

"Honey, are you okay?" Hilary's concern broke through my paralysis. "You look like you need a drink of water."

I sat down suddenly in the leather bound chair, forcing myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I'd dreaded seeing Antonio, but I was totally not expecting to have to face my rival.

"No, I'm okay," I said weakly. "I just felt faint for a moment. Let me catch my breath."

"Oh, no worries, hon. You just sit there as long as you need. I'll go put these on Mancini's desk. But my guess is that the Ice Princess will keep him busy all afternoon."

She looked over at me. "I'm sorry, I try not to have an opinion of the people who walk through that door. But something about that woman just sets me on edge."

You and me both, sister. I closed my eyes. You and me both.

Chapter Ten

“
Sick
again?” Maria asked the next morning, giving me the "Mom tone" as she arched her brow.

I trudged into the kitchen, splitting headache and all. Taking the cup of coffee she handed me, I inhaled the wake-up fumes. Maybe the coffee would stave off the migraine I could feel starting up. I had spent the night tossing and turning. Angry with Antonio. Furious with Naomi. Sorry for myself. Feeling despair.

“Maria, I’m not in the mood for a scolding, okay?”

“I’m not judging, Sis,” she said softly.

"Thanks. I'm not ready to talk about it."
Besides, you already know most of it anyway.
I didn't get migraines very often, but when I did, they were totally debilitating. I thought maybe if I spent the day in my room, covers up over my head, I could just avoid everything—the migraine, Maria's questions, Antonio's indifference, Naomi's viciousness, my own self-pity. It's amazing what a good sleep can heal.

"I've already called in—I think I'll go back to bed," I told her, tears welling up in my eyes. I felt guilty enough on my own—this was the first time I'd taken a day off from the store.

"Is this about the job? Sis, I can't let you wallow in self-pity."

I started to protest, but she cut me short.

“You’ll tell me what’s up when you’re ready. In the meantime, I suggest you need a change of scene. Let's get you outside for some fresh air. Go change into something casual and then come back for a quick breakfast."

I noticed she'd been making sandwiches on the counter and packing things into a small cooler.

"I don't think I can face anyone today, Maria …" I protested.

"Go on, scoot!" she shoved me gently in the direction of my room. "Get a move on, young lady!"

Chapter Eleven

MARIA

Thompson shook his head, giving me a look that said he was going to be a very hard sell on my plan. “Miss Maria,” he said, “You can't ask me to pull such a prank on my boss."

I slipped my hand into his. "Oh, Thompson! It's not a prank. All I want is for you not to say anything about her coming with us." I didn't want him thinking there was more to this than just the need for Angela to have some space.

I stroked his hand gently, noticing the calluses on his palms. Calluses on hands that were always so gentle. I smiled up at him. “I know it sounds a little off, But… it’s complicated. I can’t really explain it all to you, because it’s not my place to speak my sister’s business, but she really needs this break. I don't want you to do anything dishonest. All I ask is that you not volunteer anything. Please Thompson.”

He hesitated and for a moment, his brow furrowed as he looked right through me. I was afraid he was going to cancel our entire outing today, but then he sighed.

I squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” I said, raising his hand to my cheek.

He blushed. The man actually blushed!

“Ok,” he began, shaking his head at me. “But, please, let's not mention this in front of Emily. I don’t want her involved. And I especially don't want to set any bad examples for her.

“Cross my heart,” I said, sincerely, performing the necessary action. In truth, I found his trepidation over covering for Angela playing hooky from work endearing. He took work very seriously, and there was something special about his respect for Antonio Mancini. The same man my sister was avoiding right now as if he was some kind of ogre carrying the plague.

I suspected there was a lot more than she'd shared with me. I’m sure, at least in her own mind, she had good reason. I didn’t know the specifics of her relationship with the man I'd once thought could be her Prince Charming, but I knew my sister. She wasn’t the kind of woman who'd let herself be compromised, even for someone like Antonio Mancini—regardless of what he might offer.

Whatever she needed to work through, I was going to help her get through it. And if doing something entirely out of the ordinary—like spending a day enjoying a picnic with Thompson, Emily and me—could help clear her mind, or even give her a new perspective, then I was going to do what I could.

“Hi Thompson,” Angela said, almost shyly, as she emerged from the hall. She’d showered and dressed in a simple white t-shirt and a jean skirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail and, despite the darkness under her eyes, she looked like my beautiful sister again. Instead of the sad, tormented stranger who'd walked through the door last night.

“Hello, Miss Angela,” he answered, nodding as he quickly released my hand, heading to open the door for us.

Angela, not missing a thing, gave me a wink.

I smiled back at her. “Are you ready to get some fresh air?”

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Twelve

ANGELA

I hadn't been so certain that a drive to the park was something I wanted to do today. I didn't get them often, but when I did, my migraines usually kept me shut up inside where it was dark—usually with the covers over my head.

But today the air felt soft against my skin, and I hoped the sunglasses and baseball cap would protect me from too much light, too soon. Besides, I liked that Maria was so excited about getting outside, and it was nice to see a totally different side of Thompson.

I'd pulled Thompson aside while Maria was gathering the rest of her art supplies.

"Thank you for the ramp. I really appreciate it," I told him.

He shrugged. "There’s nothing to thank. It was needed so Maria could come and go easily."

"Well, it was a wonderful thing to do. I appreciate you helping her get her mobility back. And I appreciate the time you and Emily share with her. It's made a world of difference for her."

"That goes both ways, ma'am," he said, his eyes flickering over at my sister and taking on a softness that warmed my heart.

Once we'd gotten to the park, I watched Thompson pick Emily up as if she weighed nothing, setting her on his shoulders. Her smile was so bright and her laughter contagious, I instantly understood why Maria was so captivated by this child. I didn't even know her, but she lifted my spirits, too. I enjoyed watching the three of them together—it took my mind off my own problems temporarily.

I glanced at Maria, who was busy sketching in her pad, pausing every now and then to join in the teasing and laughter.

“And the fairy prince flew to the very top of the mountain,” Emily said, continuing her story. Thompson obliged, marching through the grass, lifting her even higher. “But when he got there, he discovered that the witch was waiting for him. ‘You’ll never get the Sword of Truth,’ the witch said with an
eeevil
cackle. And when the fairy prince reached for the sword, it turned to ice.”

“Wait a minute,” said Maria, scribbling furiously, “Does the sword actually turn into ice? Or does the witch encase it in ice?”

Thompson paused, and on his shoulders, Emily gazed thoughtfully into the distance.

“The witch traps everything the prince wants in ice,” Emily said finally with a conclusive nod.

Maria returned the nod and went back to her sketching. Thompson waited patiently for his daughter’s next instructions, gazing lovingly up at her.

It was the perfect moment, and I wished I had my camera to capture it. Maria had convinced me to take my camera when I went away on the cruise, and I was glad she had. Before that, I’d gotten into the mindset of using my camera only as a tool to earn some money with wedding and family portraits. But having it with me on the cruise brought back my enjoyment of capturing the perfect image at the perfect moment. Just like the one in front of me of Thompson smiling adoringly at his pensive daughter.

I made a mental note that, from now on, I'd grab my camera whenever I left the house. How else could I capture spontaneous images like these? I didn’t have to be in a perfect setting or some exotic locale to take beautiful photographs. Beauty and perfection were everywhere. Especially in the things that aren’t perfect.

A phone buzzed and Thompson reached into his pocket for his phone. Emily paused politely while her father spoke. After a moment, he carefully set her down, murmuring something to her as he reached to retrieve her crutches.

Maria took a break, beckoning Emily and me over to see what she’d done so far, while Thompson stepped away to deal with his phone call.

“The prince’s hair needs to be longer,” Emily said, casting her critical eye over Maria’s visual translation of the story. “And maybe his wings should be a little shorter? So he doesn’t get them caught in the trees when he’s flying really fast.”

“Good thinking,” I said, picking up Maria’s eraser from where it had fallen on the grass.

“Feeling any better?” Maria asked softly, setting to work on making the changes to the prince’s appearance.

I took a deep sigh, looking around at the trees and gardens. I realized that yes, I was feeling better. In fact, I hadn't even thought about Antonio and … my disappointment … at least not since we'd gotten to the park. 

“Sis, Emily is just so sweet. It's really wonderful to see you three together,” I said. “Thompson is so different from the by-the-book, stiff-shouldered limo driver I met originally.”

Maria chuckled. “Oh, he’s still very much that guy. He takes his job very seriously, but he’s not always on duty, you know.”

“Mmm, never really thought about that. I guess everyone has different sides of themselves they reveal in different situations.”

“Uh oh,” Emily said, and we glanced over to see that she was looking at her dad. Thompson was marching towards us with a tight-lipped expression on his face.

“Looks like his work side again,” Maria said.

“That was Mr. Mancini,” he said to us. It was clear he wasn’t going to say anymore, but the name and the expression on his face was enough. He was definitely in business mode. But when he bent down to Emily, his face softened. “I’m sorry, punkin, but we have to cut our picnic short today. We can still make our movie date tonight, okay?”

Emily looked a little disappointed, but only for a moment. “It’s okay, Daddy,” she said, leaning into his embrace. “I know work is important. You have your 'sponsibilities.”

Now that made
me
feel guilty, especially since Thompson was about to go back on the clock for the man I was doing my best to avoid.

“I’m glad you could join us today, Miss Angela,” Emily said, hugging me.

"Oh, honey, me too. Thank you for letting me come along. It was very special for me. I especially liked your stories."

I looked up, catching Thompson’s nod of approval. I knew he was bending his own rules to accommodate Maria, and I appreciated his gesture. I'd never really known how he felt about me, but I suspected he tolerated me mostly because of Mancini—and Maria. But today there was something more in the look that passed between us. Something slightly protective of "his girls", some small signal that told me I could trust him not to betray my little day off to Antonio. And for that, I was grateful.