by Holly Rayner
Luciano is awake when I step out of the bathroom, and the smell of coffee is in the air.
“How did you sleep?” he asks.
“Very well, thanks.”
“That robe looks good on you,” he says.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m wearing it.”
“Of course.” He sets a mug of coffee in front of me. “Would you like milk or sugar?”
“No, thanks.” I sip the coffee. Bitter and strong, like a slap in the face. Just the way I like it in the morning. “This is really good.”
“Thank you. I make it extra strong.”
It’s so easy, going about this morning-after business with him. It isn’t awkward or unpleasant at all. I don’t feel shy or out of place for still being here. He’s not working too hard trying to please me, laying out a five-course breakfast, and neither is he acting as if he wishes I wasn’t in his house. It’s all just very natural.
I think I’m really falling for this man. And that terrifies me. We’re going to get our marriage annulled in just a few hours. I need to find a way, before then, to broach the topic of my feelings. I need to tell him I want to keep seeing him after today, that I want him to be a part of my life. My window of opportunity is closing fast. I don’t know what the plan is exactly, but for all I know, he could be putting me on the plane home this afternoon.
If that happens, then what am I going to do? I won’t have any good excuse to call him again. I have to do it now.
But I can’t. Something traps the words in my throat and prevents me from speaking. As bold as I was last night, grabbing him and pulling him on top of me, as comfortable as I feel now sitting in his kitchen in nothing but a bathrobe, I find that I can’t utter these simple words. Because I’m all too aware that there is nothing simple about them at all. I might be falling in love, and if I tell him so, it could change my life. If he doesn’t feel the same way, he’ll tell me, and the hope that’s been fluttering in my chest so madly will be snuffed out. And if he does return my feelings…
Well, I have no idea what will happen then. I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time. I haven’t been in a long-term relationship in even longer. And I don’t know if I’ve ever felt the way I feel about Luciano. This could be something really special. But that scares me. I don’t know if I’m ready for this, ready to open up and share my life with somebody, to risk my heart.
But how can I pass it up when it’s sitting right in front of me? How can I let it go by?
“Our appointment isn’t for a few hours yet,” Luciano says. “I thought I’d go down to the farmers’ market and pick up some supplies. Would you like to come? Or would you rather stay here?”
“I’ll stay, I think,” I say. Much as I would like to attach myself to Luciano’s side and go with him wherever he goes, I know I need to clear my head. Some time alone, with him out of the villa, will do me good.
Luciano nods. “Why don’t you come into the bedroom,” he suggests. “You must be sore after sleeping on the floor. You can relax on the bed and watch TV in here—feel free to stream whatever you like.”
“That actually sounds really great,” I say. A movie would be the perfect thing to distract me from my racing thoughts, and a soft bed sounds divine.
Luciano fluffs the pillows for me and gestures for me to lean back while I scroll through the streaming options and make my selection.
When he sees my choice—an animated children’s movie—Luciano laughs with delight. “This is one of my favorites.”
“Mine, too,” I say, surprised and happy. “I thought you’d make fun of me for picking it.”
“No, it’s a classic.” He puts it in and hands me the remote. “Enjoy. I wish I could stay and watch with you. Maybe you and I can watch something later on. Would you like an omelet when I get back?”
“You don’t have to cook for me,” I demur.
“That wasn’t the question,” Luciano insists. “Would you like an omelet?”
“Well. Yes, I’d like one.”
“What vegetables do you like? I already have the eggs and cheese.”
“Spinach? And tomato, maybe?”
“That sounds great.” He bends over and kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
I sit in a daze after he’s gone, watching the cartoon antics play out on the screen, my mind spinning. The kiss on the forehead—that was clearly affectionate, but did it actually mean anything? At the very least, he does like me. But I knew that already, didn’t I? I’m overthinking this.
But what about the movie? He wanted to stay and watch with me. He suggested that we’d watch something together later. That sounds like he wants to spend another night together. I should have asked him when. Did he mean tonight? Or was he talking about some night in the future? Was he talking about the shared future that I hardly dare to hope we’ll have?
I lean back against the pillows, close my eyes, and let the familiar sounds of the movie wash over me. It’s going to be a very revealing next twenty-four hours—that’s for sure.
Chapter 24
Luciano
I drift through the farmers’ market, moving from stall to stall in a daze. I can’t believe what happened between me and Dani last night. It was so unexpected, but so amazing. There’s a part of me that wants to buy everything I see on display here and bring it home to give to her, but I know that would be the wrong move and would probably freak her out. She’s expecting spinach and tomatoes. I can’t come home with four types of flowers and artisanal cheeses.
I do pause, though, at a stall where an old man is selling handmade jewelry. It’s nothing fancy or expensive—pewter rings and necklaces and bracelets, molded into shape, each of them cradling a cheap natural stone like jade or quartz. I pick out a few pieces and carry them over to the man, who’s sitting on his stool gazing out into the crowd as though unaware that I’m there.
“How much?” I ask, showing him my choices.
He names a price, and I pull the last of my cash out of my pocket. It’s just enough to cover the items. The transaction complete, I place the jewelry in my coat pocket and head home.
About halfway there, though, I’m struck with second thoughts. Am I seriously going to give Dani jewelry today, like it’s our anniversary or something? Am I insane? Today is the day of our annulment. She doesn’t want jewelry from me; she wants a legal separation.
With a sigh, I shove the jewelry down deeper into my pocket. I can’t give it to her. It would be weird. It has the potential to make her feel weird, and that’s the last thing I want.
When I get back to the house, the first thing I do is go to the bedroom and check in on Dani. The movie is still playing, but her eyes are closed, and she appears to be dozing. She looks so peaceful. I decide to leave her to it and go into the kitchen to start the omelets.
The smell must wake her up. As I’m cooking, I hear her moving around behind me, and when I turn with the finished omelets in hand, she’s sitting at the kitchen island, watching.
“You’re a good cook,” she says.
“My mother taught me well.” I place the omelet before her. “Eat up. The car will be here in ten minutes.”
A funny look crosses her face, and for a minute, I think maybe she’s going to say something, but instead, she looks down and devotes herself to her breakfast. I eat my own omelet quickly and then set about washing the dishes, just to have something to do. It’s hard to sit across the table from her after last night. It’s hard to look at her knowing where we’re about to go and what we’re about to do. It’s hard to believe that on the morning after the hottest night of my life, I’m about to separate from the woman I shared it with. This is crazy.
We go down to the car together. It’s awkward. The air between us is thick with the things we aren’t saying to each other.
I wonder what’s going on in Dani’s mind. Is it possible she’s just as flabbergasted by the insanity of what we’re doing as I am? Is it possible she’s having the same dou
bts? Or could it be that she’s regretting last night? Why didn’t I ask her about that, instead of children’s movies and how she took her coffee? I should have asked her how she felt about what had transpired between us. That would have been the respectful thing to do. She must think I’m a dog!
But maybe Dani isn’t thinking about last night at all. There’s a third possibility, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. Maybe she’s afraid that we won’t be able to get the annulment today, that some unforeseen wrinkle will present itself the way it did in Vegas. What if she’s sitting over there wishing she had never gotten into this mess with me?
All right, we did say that we were happy to be with each other and that this would be much worse with anyone else, but we also ended up having very spontaneous sex last night. Clearly, neither one of us was in full control of ourselves.
And yet, looking at her sitting over there in her off-the-shoulder dress, her blond hair cascading down her back, her skin lit up dazzlingly by the morning light, I know that I would do it all over again.
The lunacy of everything washes over me again. Dani isn’t just someone I have great sexual chemistry with. We have great personal chemistry, too. I’ve never laughed with someone like I have with her. I haven’t felt such closeness since Ilsa, but with Dani, there’s a marked difference. As much as I give to Dani, I feel her giving back to me. I confide in her and she confides back. Our trust and affection is not a one-way street.
But is it enough?
What happens after we sign this annulment today? Where do we go from there? Once we return to the States and Dani goes back to California, will we see each other again? Once this paperwork is signed, there’s no reason we have to. Maybe I shouldn’t sign it.
No. That’s absurd. What am I going to do, walk into the clerk’s office and refuse to sign the papers? How would I explain that to Dani? I flew her out here, taking her away from her life, her work, and her friends, so that we could pursue an annulment I never intended to sign? That definitely wouldn’t convince her to see me again. She’d run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Probably straight to a divorce lawyer, come to think of it—so, we’d end up getting separated anyway, but it would be a lot more arduous and painful.
No, I have to sign the annulment. Even though it feels utterly wrong to do so. There’s no alternative, not at this stage.
The thing I need to do, I realize, is just tell her how I feel. But I’m out of practice. I haven’t confessed feelings to a woman since Ilsa, and that was a much less complicated situation—we both sort of already knew how we felt, since we had been seeing each other for three months.
With Dani, it’s different. There was no courtship, no obvious intention—unless you count last night, that is. So, if I tell her now that I’ve developed feelings for her, that I think I might even love her, it might be coming totally out of nowhere for her.
That’s unfair. I can’t do that to her while we’re in the car on the way to get an annulment. How could she be expected to process something like that while also thinking about the important legal process she’s about to go through? No, the only fair thing is to wait and talk to her about it afterwards.
I don’t want to do it that way. I don’t want us to legally separate and then begin our romance. It feels backwards. Still, that’s better than nothing, and I have no guarantee she’ll be interested in me at all. The important thing is to get through the next few hours, get her back home, and then we can talk it out.
At the thought of that conversation, my nerves jangle to new heights. I push them down. I can’t be freaking out about asking Dani to be my girlfriend right now. I have to focus on ending our marriage.
God, this is ridiculous.
Dani glances over at me. “Have you heard anything from Jack Borman?”
“No.” I’d actually forgotten about him. “I hope he made it over.”
“Does he know where to go?”
“Yes, I gave him the address and sent a car to pick him up.”
“But you haven’t heard from him?”
“Not since we talked that first time.”
She settles back in her seat, frowning a little. “I guess we’ll see if he shows up.”
The car drops us off and I give the driver directions to pick us up in an hour. We go into the office and give our names to the receptionist, then take seats in the waiting room and look around.
Dani leans over to me. “Are any of these men Jack Borman?” she whispers.
It’s just occurring to me that I have no idea what he looks like. I scan the room, trying to pick out a likely candidate. One man is reading a Portuguese magazine, which rules him out. Another is about eighty years old. Two more are here with women. Of course, any of these people could be the guy. Borman could have brought his wife along at his own expense. He could be an older person. That guy with the magazine might just be looking at the pictures, for all I know. And that’s not to mention the fact that there are five more men in the room with nothing obvious disqualifying them from being the one we’re waiting for.
“I have no idea,” I admit to Dani.
“Should we ask?”
“I mean, I guess he’ll get called back when we do, right? Or…wait a minute. We don’t know what he looks like, but he definitely knows what we look like. He would have known us as soon as we walked in.”
“Oh, right. So, that means that he’s probably not here, yet,” Dani says.
If he’s coming at all. Even though she doesn’t say the second part, it hangs in the air as if it had been uttered aloud. Her feelings on the matter are hard to read. My emotions are swirling around like a category five storm. I don’t want the annulment. I don’t want to separate from Dani. And yet, confusingly, I will be disappointed if Borman doesn’t show.
Just then, the door opens again, and there he is.
I’m stunned to realize that I do recognize him. I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose—if he works at my favorite casino, of course we’ve come across each other. Sure enough, he makes his way across the lobby straight to Dani and me.
“Hey, kids,” he says, pulling a chair out from the wall so he can sit facing us. The receptionist looks up from her desk with a scowl but doesn’t say anything. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Thank you for coming,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand. “We really appreciate your going to all this trouble.”
“Hey, it’s not every day someone offers you a free trip to Europe,” Borman says with a laugh. “Besides, I wasn’t doing anything much. A few days off work are always good for the soul, right? And I can check out the nightlife while I’m here. Actually, I hit this great club last night…” He breaks off at the look on Dani’s face. “Anyway. I’m glad I could help you out.”
“I suppose you do this all the time,” Dani says. “Witness annulments, I mean. You probably don’t usually have to fly to Portugal for it, though.”
“No, I don’t,” Borman agrees with a laugh. “And it happens less than you think. I’ve been working on the Strip for ten years, and in that time, I’ve witnessed seven weddings and five annulments.”
“I guess there are a lot of people around to act as witnesses,” I say.
“Yep. Although, as a dealer, you do get more than your share.”
“So, seven and five?” Dani asks. “The other two stayed married?”
“One of them went to divorce court,” Borman says. “They were initially seeking an annulment, but they couldn’t agree on any of the terms. The other couple I never heard from again, so yeah, it’s possible they stayed together. But I have to tell you,” he adds, “I really thought you two would be the ones to make it all the way.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, you knew each other before the wedding night, right?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.” He looks surprised. “You seemed like you did. You had all these inside jokes. You kept saying things and then busting up laughing, and the minist
er and I would look at each other like, why is this funny?”
“What were we saying?” Dani asks interestedly.
“Hell if I can remember. But you were all up on each other too, you know, in a very natural way. Not like two people who have just met and are hot for each other, but like people who are comfortable with each other. Like, you always had your hand on her back,” he says to me. “I figured she was your girlfriend. And the way you two kept smiling at each other…I mean, those Vegas ceremonies are goofy as hell, but there was something special about that one.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Borman is making it sound like our wedding was more than a drunken mistake, like there were actual feelings involved on that day. But there couldn’t have been, right? I recognize my feelings for Dani now, of course, but at the time I barely knew her. I couldn’t have felt anything serious. Not then.
But I have to tell her. I have to let her know what she means to me. Especially in light of this new information. Because our history is being rewritten before our eyes, and it’s more than I ever dreamed it was.
Just as I turn to Dani and open my mouth to say something, though, a voice calls our names. A woman is leaning though a doorway, beckoning us back into the offices. The moment of truth has arrived.
Chapter 25
Dani
The office into which we’re led is virtually identical to the one where we tried to get our annulment in Las Vegas. Same solid, expensive-looking furniture. Same shelf of books on the wall. The only notable difference is that all the titles are in Portuguese.
But as I take my seat next to Luciano, I realize that no matter how much things may look the same, everything has changed. When we sought that annulment, my primary feeling was a desire to get the whole ordeal over and done with. Now, though, every second that slips away seems precious. I have to say something to Luciano before time runs out.