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Fallen Angel, Part 1: Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance

Page 13

by Tracie Podger


  Searching the Internet on my mobile, I found a number for a local kickboxing club. I called them to see if I could arrange for a trainer to come and work out with me. Having the phone in my hand reminded me I had some calls to make. I checked my watch to see what time would be in the UK and then dialled. Michael answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, it’s me,” I said.

  “Hello. Are you having a nice time?” he asked

  “Yes, I am. Being with Sam is great right now, but we have to talk. The lease is up on the house next month, you need to call the agents if you want to extend it or give notice.”

  “Why would I give notice? I thought you would have this little holiday of yours and then come back,” he said.

  “No, Michael, we’ve talked about this. I’m not coming back to the house.”

  I took a breath and closed my eyes for a moment, “I’m not coming back, period.”

  “What do you mean you’re not coming back?” he shouted. I pulled the phone away from my ear a little.

  “I’m not coming back, I want to stay here for a while. I can work from here and I can spend time with Sam.”

  “Has he talked you into this? Are you out of your fucking mind, Brooke? Ten years we have been together, why would you throw that all away? Are you seeing someone else?” he asked.

  “No, Sam has not talked me into this, I’m not out of my mind and yes we have been together, on and off for ten years, but not really. Come on, we haven’t had a relationship for a long time.”

  “Are you seeing someone else?” he repeated.

  I sighed, “Yes. Yes, I’m seeing someone,” I said quietly.

  “What, someone in America?”

  “Yes, and that’s why I’m staying.”

  “Do you love him?” he asked. There was a pitiful whine to his voice and I felt terrible.

  “Yes, I love him and I want to be with him,” I said sadly. I didn’t want to hurt Michael but he deserved to know the truth.

  “You bitch, you fucking whore,” he shouted down the phone.

  I felt a hand reach over my shoulder and take the phone away, shutting it off.

  “You okay, baby?” Robert asked.

  I nodded and wiped away tears. “Yes, I had to tell him, hopefully he can move on now.”

  Robert walked around the sofa and knelt in front of me. He held my face in his hands. He looked, the only way he could, straight into my eyes, into the deepest recess of my mind, and he smiled.

  “I’m glad you told him. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

  “I love you,” I said as he pulled me to him.

  I knew that he wouldn’t say it back, but I knew that he loved me too.

  “Come on, dinner’s ready,” he said, and he pulled me from the sofa.

  Hand in hand we walked to the kitchen. The breakfast bar was set for two and the most wonderful smell of lasagna and homemade garlic bread hit my nose.

  “Evelyn’s a great cook,” I said, spooning heaps of food into my mouth.

  I was amazed at how hungry I was.

  “She sure is, her parents were Italian although she was born here. Her mom taught her to cook,” he said.

  “Brooke, I’ve got a ball to attend next week. I want you with me, but it’s at the museum,” he added.

  “Of course, I would love to but I don’t have anything to wear. I mean, I have that black dress but I can’t wear that again.”

  “Well, why don’t you call Sam, ask him to take you shopping.”

  “He has to work,” I said.

  “I’m sure Jonathan can spare him for half a day,” he replied.

  He finished his meal while I was still only halfway through mine. He turned on his stool to face me.

  “I want to buy you a dress, Brooke. I want everyone at that place to see you with me.”

  I knew that was a big deal for him, being seen out in public the first time with me was a hurdle he’d gotten over. He wanted everyone to know we were together, officially together.

  “Okay, but on one condition,” I said. “I pay you back, you have to let me pay you back.”

  He laughed, “We can argue about that later, but call Sam, arrange it and Travis will drive you both.”

  I jumped from the stool to grab my phone and excitedly told Sam he had the afternoon off and I needed a dress for a ball. I’d never been to a ball; I meant a real one before. We talked about hair salons, I wanted to get my nails done, and I needed some waxing, I whispered into the phone. We made a plan and Sam would check out some salons nearby for me, book appointments for the day.

  I hugged Robert after I’d made the call.

  “Did I tell you today that I loved you?” I asked.

  I vowed to tell him that at least once a day.

  “You’ve already told me,” he said.

  We moved to the sofa and settled down.

  I curled up against him, “Want to play a game?” I asked.

  He squinted his eyes at me, “A game?”

  “Yes, I tell you a bit of information about me and you tell me the same about you. Example, my birthday is the tenth of October, I will be the grand age of thirty-one.”

  “That’s in a couple of weeks,” he said, and I nodded. “Okay, mine’s July, twenty-eighth and next year I’ll be a very old thirty-eight.”

  “My turn,” I said and I thought for a moment. “My favourite colour is red and the food I love the most is Italian.”

  “I bet you can guess, I don’t favour a particular colour but I do prefer black and believe it or not, I prefer Italian, considering it’s what Evelyn cooks the most.”

  “Now films,” I said, and then I had to think. “I have three, Shawshank Redemption, The Gladiator and The Godfather, no make that four, add Twilight to that as well.”

  He laughed, “That’s a mixture.”

  “And all full of the most hunky men,” I said

  “Baby, don’t start to get me jealous. Now, I don’t want to be in jail, I doubt I could fight lions, I might just make a part in the Godfather, but I most definitely want to bite you,” he said as he pulled me towards him.

  “Oh no, we’re not finished yet,” I said, pushing him away. “Your favourite film?”

  “I don’t know that I have one. To be honest, I’ve never been to the movies and I don’t watch TV.”

  “Oh,” I said. I made a mental note to add that to the list of things Mr. Stone had to do, he needed to have a childhood and now, watch a movie.

  “You know I haven’t had the kind of life you have, I guess earning money became more important than going to the movies. I didn’t have the best childhood, Brooke,” he said quietly.

  “Can you talk about it?” I asked.

  He put his glass of wine on the floor beside the sofa and turned slightly towards me.

  “Are you ready to hear things, things that might make you dislike me? I’m scared of what you will do. I’m scared that if you know it all, you’ll leave. I’m not the person you think I am. I’ve not always been this friendly,” he said, an attempt at humour.

  “I’m ready, Robert. There’s nothing you can tell me that will make me love you less. What’s in the past is exactly there, in the past. You don’t have to tell me everything, just enough for me to understand you more, that’s all I’m asking. Tell me in bite-sized chunks.”

  He closed his eyes for a while and I stilled. When he opened them we were back to dark and dangerous, but I wouldn’t react.

  “My parents used to leave me alone in the house, a lot. I was an only child. I would feed myself and go to school each day. They thought it was character building, me being able to look after myself. They didn’t view it as anything wrong. One day, I went to school, came home to an empty house and as it got darker, I realised they were not coming back. I remember a knock on the door; it was the police. I expected they thought I would have a sitter with me, or family.”

  He paused as his gaze shifted beyond me, as he got lost in his memory.

  “Th
ey were a bit shocked to see I was on my own. I know they went next door, there was an old lady, Nora, living there, and she used to chat to me sometimes. She came back in with them and she told me. There had been an accident and they were dead. I think I stayed with her for a couple of days and was then put in foster care. A nice enough woman but I wanted to be back in my own home. I never went to their funeral, Brooke. I have no idea even where they’re buried.”

  “Oh baby,” I said as I held his hand. “Have you never wanted to find out, to go and see them?”

  “No, they didn’t care about me and to be honest, I have no feelings one way or another about them. The only thing I have to thank them for was being able to survive on my own from an early age. Now I’ve told you about my parents, you tell me about yours.”

  “Well, my parents are still alive but to be honest I don’t have a great deal to do with them now. I had a brother, David, he was younger than me, and they doted on him. From the moment he was born he was the apple of their eye and I had to take a backseat. He was everything I wasn’t, really. He was confident, had loads of friends, but he broke their hearts when he came home one day, at seventeen years old, and told them he’d signed up for the Army. They hadn’t wanted him to and I remember the rows trying to get him to change his mind.

  “He did his training; we all went to his passing out parade and my mum cried all the way through. He was posted to Iraq for his first tour. He used to write to me, he knew how my parents had overlooked me for him and he used to do everything he could to make that up to me. Despite him being a couple of years younger, he was such a lovely man.”

  I had to take a breath, my heart hurt at the thought of David.

  “One night, we got that knock on the door. Two officers told us that he had been killed, he was on a routine patrol, and his vehicle had been blown up. No survivors. His body was flown home, about a week, or so later, but my parents also died that day.

  “I was twenty-one, working and living with Michael so I guessed they thought I was okay. I only moved out because I wanted someone to love me.

  “Michael wasn’t capable of that, we were just too immature, but from that day they turned their back on me. I tried at first; I visited them, we sat in silence after the obligatory chat about the weather and work. Then one day I decided, just a year ago that if I didn’t call them, if I didn’t visit, would they bother? And they haven’t,” I smiled; it was a sad smile.

  “So, you and I are similar really. We’re both orphans in our own way,” I said.

  He just sat looking at me, “You need to be shown love, you need someone to love you, and now you have ended up with me; that’s fucking irony, Brooke,” he said.

  I leaned forward and touched his face, letting my fingers run down his cheek.

  “You know what they say, broken people attract broken people. Sam has been my saviour though; he’s shown me what it’s like to have a family. He was all I had really and now I have the three musketeers,” I smiled.

  He looked at me, not understanding. “I have you, Travis and Evelyn, the three musketeers.”

  I curled up in his lap, his head rested on top of mine and we sat in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, and the feel of each other’s body as we watched the night draw in.

  Chapter Eight

  The following morning we rose, it was my first day at work and I was excited. I wore the Victoria Beckham dress, or rather the high street version of it that I’d loved, and we left with Travis driving us. Hand in hand we walked through the foyer. Robert nodded to people who offered a greeting but without stopping, we made our way to the lift.

  “People are staring at us,” I whispered.

  “So let them,” he replied.

  I exited the lift at my floor and with a wink he wished me luck. I watched the doors slide shut as it took him off to his. I walked into the reception area and was a little unsure of where to go.

  “Miss Stiles?” A stunning, mixed race girl with dark, tight curls came over to me.

  “Hi, I’m Gabby, let me show you to your desk,” she said.

  As we walked across the open plan room, the desks were already full of people; their heads followed me and they whispered to each other. I was shown where the kitchen was, that I already knew, the restroom, and eventually my desk. I sat and placed my bag underneath and immediately spotted Sam. He was standing waving at me and blowing kisses. I ducked down; he would get in so much trouble. I sent him an email.

  “Hi Sam, this is so cool but please, get on with your work, see you at lunchtime.”

  There was an immediate reply. “Sure thing, honey, I want to know all the details, until then, ta ta.”

  I’d opened up the rest of my emails and was pleased to see some artwork sent for approval, some messages from clients, and the team back home. I spent a couple of hours completing the changes to the artwork I wanted and it was lunchtime before I knew it. I would have to get used to the time difference.

  I looked up as Sam approached, “Lunch time,” he said.

  At exactly the same time I saw Robert stride across the room to my desk, all eyes followed him.

  “Hi,” I said, “I was just leaving for lunch with Sam.”

  “It’s Sam I want to speak to,” he replied. “Don’t worry, I’ll have him back with you in five minutes,” he said.

  He walked away and Sam followed, looking over his shoulder at me with his knuckles in his mouth in mock fear and I laughed.

  True to his word, five minutes later Sam was back. He grabbed my hand and dragged me up from my chair.

  “Hold on, I need my bag,” I said, as I reached down and we scuttled to the lift.

  Sitting in a deli a couple of doors down, I asked, “Well, come on, what did he want?”

  “Oh I don’t know if I’m allowed to say, now I’m in Mr. Stone’s circle,” he said laughing.

  “Sam, tell me or I will kick your butt, right here,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Oh, you are just so aggressive, but okay. He told me that he and you were having a relationship, as if I didn’t know that, the twit.”

  I slapped his arm at that comment.

  “Anyway, he told me he wanted you to live with him, like permanently, and he wanted to know that I was okay with that,” his hand fluttered to his chest.

  “The great Mr. Stone asked my permission to relinquish you.” God, he was such a queen sometimes.

  “Well, what did you say? Not that I need your permission,” I said.

  “I told him that if he hurt you, he would have me to answer to. I don’t know why, but he seemed a little amused by that. I told him, he could stuff his job, I would punch him on the nose.”

  Oh I laughed, I could just picture Sam attempting to punch him on the nose; that was funny.

  “I bet he was amused,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, your rufty tufty boyfriend got all serious. He said that he had no doubt he would hurt you at some point, he hoped not. But, Brooke, get this, he said that having a relationship was new to him and he didn’t want to fuck up.”

  His hands flew to his mouth, tears formed in his eyes and again I was reminded that he should have been on stage and not working in an office.

  “And, get this also, he invited me and Scott over for dinner tonight, after our shopping spree. To be in the inner circle, I shall be the talk of the office tomorrow.”

  Knowing how private Robert was, that invitation surprised me. We finished our lunch and headed out to where Travis was waiting to take us shopping. Getting into the Mercedes, Sam let out a whistle and received a stare from Pit Bull. I giggled in the back and sent a text to Robert.

  “That was so sweet of you, inviting Sam and Scott over, thank you,” I said.

  His reply came quickly, “As you’ve said, they’re your family.”

  “Erm excuse me, Sir,” Sam said tapping Travis on the shoulder. “Can you take us to the mall?” he asked. I held my hand to my mouth stifling a laugh.

  “I have instru
ctions of where to take you,” Travis replied stiffly.

  He pulled the car out into traffic. We passed the mall and headed off into a more exclusive district of Washington and stopped outside a boutique. Travis opened the car door for us. I couldn’t look at Sam as he elegantly slid out of the car, more regal than the bloody Queen.

  Travis followed us to the door, we had to press a button before we were allowed to enter and once we did, wow! There were rows and rows of beautiful dresses, evening gowns of every colour, and on the opposite side of the room, were smart casual clothes. The evening dresses on display were very expensive. Sam ran from rail to rail, calling out the price tags.

  Travis sat himself down on a sofa and as I passed, he handed me a credit card, “Robert wants you to buy a dress, not him,” he said.

  Sam was holding a rather slinky silver dress to himself.

  “He also said, don’t spend time looking at the prices,” he added.

  The sales assistant and Sam hit it off immediately, fashionistas the pair of them. Sam pulled dress after dress from the rail and handed them to her. She ushered us to a luxurious changing room where two glasses of champagne were waiting.

  Giggling like two school kids, I tried each on with Sam, hand on his chin, nodding or shaking his head at each one. Finally, I tried on the most wonderful, silk, purple, Grecian style dress. It was floor length and although a little too long, fit perfectly. The dress crossed over my chest and one shoulder, and a gold braid held it at my waist; it was perfect.

  Gold sandals were needed and the sales assistant handed me a pair of extremely high strappy ones. I slipped them on and the outfit was completed with a small gold clutch. Sam helped the assistant pin up the bottom; they would make the adjustments and then send it to me.

  I dressed back in my work clothes and headed for the till. I nearly fell to the floor as I saw the price at the cash register. I’d just spent five thousand dollars on an outfit. That was nearly two months’ wages for me and I worried that I’d overspent. With the shoes and the bag, we headed for home; Scott would join us a little later. We chatted excitedly in the back of the car, I saw Travis roll his eyes and shake his head in exasperation at some of the things Sam had said. We arrived at the gates as they swung open and the car slowly moved up the drive.

 

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