Year of Living Blonde (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 1)

by Simonne, Andrea

  Her blue eyes take him in. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  She smiles.

  “Soon?” he asks hopefully.

  Her smiles changes. “I’ll tell you a little secret. I’ve been trying very hard not to fall in love with you.”

  Anthony is taken aback. “Seriously?”

  “I didn’t want to be another one of your groupies. Plus, I’m older than you.”

  “Not this again.” He groans and puts his head back on the pillow, but then meets her gaze. “You shouldn’t hold back your feelings. I don’t want you to.”

  “Oh, really? How many women have told you they loved you? How many hearts have you broken?”

  Anthony studies her. And then realizes where Natalie is going with this.

  She’s right.

  “So, what, I don’t deserve you? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Not at all. But you have to understand why I’ve been cautious.”

  Anthony doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he thinks about all the women over the years who have said they were in love with him. The letters he’s gotten, the cards and gifts. Some of them he barely knew and were only drawn to his appearance, and others he knew intimately. He never tried to lead them on, or break any hearts, but still it happened. He has to admit he feels a sympathy for those women he never did before.

  “All right, I get your point. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up.” He grasps her hips. “In fact, now that I’ve bared my soul to you—and had you reject me—” she tries to protest, but he continues, “I’m going to spend the rest of the night using all my powers to prove exactly how much I love you.”

  Her eyes widen.

  “What do you say to that, Miss Natalie?”

  They forgot to pull the heavy curtains shut, so sunlight streams through their hotel room window the next morning. Anthony is still asleep on his stomach. A dark angel. Despite all the coffee Anthony drinks, he’s a hard sleeper.

  Natalie studies him, thinking.

  He loves me.

  It should make her nervous, but it doesn’t. Instead, she’s amazed someone this wonderful has fallen in love with her.

  Suddenly, there’s a hard knock at their hotel room door. Natalie startles. The brisk knock happens again.

  “Anthony,” she whispers, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up.”

  He opens his eyes and when he sees her, gives a purely male grin. Memories of last night come rushing back and she feels her face warm. It was quite a night.

  “Good morning, Miss Natalie,” he says, his voice husky.

  There’s another knock.

  He turns toward the sound. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” she says, still whispering. “Do you think it’s room service?”

  “I didn’t order room service.” He frowns. “Let me go check.” He gets up and grabs one of the hotel’s terrycloth robes to cover himself.

  Natalie waits in bed. There’s silence and then a few seconds later she hears voices and laughter.

  Curious, she gets up and slips into the other terrycloth robe. When she ventures into the living room, she’s surprised to see a well-dressed man and woman there. The woman has her hand on Anthony’s arm, smiling and speaking Italian to him.

  Anthony sees Natalie and waves her over.

  “Guess what? My parents are here!” he says, grinning.

  “Oh?”

  Anthony introduces her to them as his girlfriend. He doesn’t seem fazed in the least bit that she’s meeting his parents for the first time wearing a hotel bathrobe after a night of energetic sex. Natalie draws her robe close, smoothes down her hair, and wishes she could vanish out the window like Batman.

  She smiles politely.

  Judging by their clothes and demeanor, his parents are conservative and wealthy. Affluence hangs over them like a thundercloud.

  They’re both staring at her.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Natalie manages to say.

  “They just arrived this morning,” Anthony tells her. “Apparently, their flight was delayed.”

  “Antonio has mentioned you,” his mother says with an Italian accent. Her brown eyes—the same rich shade as Anthony’s—take in Natalie’s robe, messy hair, and then for some reason, stare at her neck.

  “We’ve been dating.” Natalie puts her hand up to her neck self-consciously.

  His mother, who is strikingly beautiful, is still contemplating Natalie.

  She probably thinks I’m too old for him.

  Or not pretty enough.

  Or not well educated.

  All of which are true.

  Natalie sighs.

  Anthony and his father are talking about the Smyth Medal ceremony, with Anthony telling him how crazy it was last night.

  “I didn’t know you guys were planning on attending,” Anthony says.

  “Of course we wanted to be there,” his mother interjects. She shoots his father a quelling look. “We would have been there if not for this stupido strike.” She shakes her head and says something in Italian, which judging by the tone is a criticism of the airline.

  “Listen, I need to speak with you,” his father says to Anthony. “I know I said some things the last time I saw you.”

  Natalie notices the way Anthony’s mother is nodding with encouragement. His father takes a deep breath. He’s big, like Giovanni, with sharp blue eyes and a jaw that could cut glass. One of those types of men who seem larger than life, and who Natalie always finds intimidating.

  “Go on,” his mother tells his father. “Do not stop!”

  “It’s been pointed out to me that I’ve been misguided about some things over the years.” His father looks at Anthony, puts his hand on his shoulder. “I now agree with that assessment.”

  Is this how they always talk?

  “Thank you,” Anthony tells him. And she realizes that must have been an apology.

  His mother claps her hands together. “And now we will have breakfast, sì?”

  “Sounds great,” Anthony says cheerfully.

  Natalie is about to make up an excuse to leave when she feels his hand on her arm. “You’re staying, right? I want my parents to get to know you.”

  All three of them are turned her way. “That sounds nice,” Natalie hears herself say.

  They order room service while Natalie escapes into the bedroom to change into some clothes. Seeing herself in the mirror, she’s mortified. Hair a snarled mess, cheeks pink from beard burn, and there’s a giant red hickey on her neck.

  I look like I’ve been ravaged all night.

  Which is about right.

  No wonder his parents were staring.

  Groaning with embarrassment, she puts on the only clothes she has—jeans and a T-shirt—and does what she can to tame her appearance. When she goes back out, the food has already arrived.

  Anthony’s parents are nice, but intimidating. Growing up with so little, she’s never been comfortable around people who are very wealthy. They talk a lot about work and various charity events. Natalie mostly stays quiet. It’s obvious they care about Anthony, but it’s also clear they have high expectations. She can see how it must have been exhausting for him to grow up like this.

  Eventually, she manages to politely extricate herself, explaining that she has to go home. Luckily, they still have the limo on call.

  Anthony throws some clothes on and walks her down to the hotel lobby, where they wait out front for the car.

  “I think they like you,” he says.

  She seriously doubts this. “I’m embarrassed that I met them wearing a hotel bathrobe.”

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s no big deal.”

  “I can’t even imagine what they must think of me.” She shakes her head, still horrified.

  Anthony is holding her hand and pulls her in close. “I know they seem uptight, but they have a passionate marriage. They won’t hold this against you.”

  Natalie doesn’t believe this is tru
e, but keeps her opinion to herself.

  On the ride home, insecurities she hasn’t had in years are suddenly resurfacing. About money and the stigma she always felt as a kid for not having any. What have I really gotten myself into, here? She loves being with Anthony, but after meeting his family it’s clear he comes from a different world. Even winning that medal puts him in another class.

  It’s unsettling.

  When the limo finally drops her off at her house, there’s something else that’s unsettling.

  Peter’s black Lexus is sitting in the driveway.

  PETER AND CHLOE are sitting at the kitchen island together, laughing.

  The sight was such a familiar part of Natalie’s landscape for years, it does something funny to her insides seeing it now.

  “Hi, Mom!” Chloe says. “Daddy stopped by. He’s eating all the day-old pastries!”

  Natalie drops her overnight bag beside the doorway and walks over to them. There’s a large plate in front of Peter, stacked with the pastries Natalie brought home from the bakery a couple of days ago. “Those aren’t day-old,” she informs Peter. “They’re more like two-day old.”

  “I don’t care,” he says, talking around a mouth full of food. “They’re incredible. I’d forgotten what an amazing baker you are.”

  Natalie watches as Peter takes another bite from a chocolate croissant and closes his eyes. “My God, you have no idea how good this tastes after eating nothing but raw vegetables and sprouts for so long.”

  “Dad’s already eaten two muffins and a chocolate chip cookie,” Chloe tells her, laughing. “I guess he’s hungry.”

  “I’m just sick of being deprived,” Peter mutters.

  Natalie can’t help but notice Peter is completely at ease here and why shouldn’t he be? This was his home for years. She takes in his short blond hair and pale blue eyes. Such a contrast to Anthony. Peter is a handsome man, though. Not in Anthony’s league, but few people are born with Anthony’s kind of beauty.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks him.

  Peter grins. His familiar smile—white teeth with slightly crooked lateral incisors he never bothered correcting. He turns to Chloe, who is already grinning. Beaming would be a better description. “Let me talk to your mom alone,” he tells her. “Okay?”

  Chloe nods and then giggles. It’s obvious the two of them are sharing a secret. “I’m going to go watch TV in my room.”

  Uh oh.

  Natalie has a sinking feeling she isn’t going to like this conversation.

  Once Chloe’s gone, Peter turns to her. His eyes sparkle and there’s an expression on his face that reminds her of how he always looked right before he gave her a birthday present.

  “I’m back,” he says, letting out a contented sigh.

  “Back?”

  “I’m coming back home.”

  Natalie stares at him. “Are you joking?”

  “No, I’m not. I want to be a family again.” He’s smiling at her, though the smile falters when he notices her neck.

  “What makes you think I want that?”

  Peter is still studying the hickey Anthony gave her. A ripple of irritation crosses his features, but then he pulls his eyes away from it and focuses on her face instead. “I had a feeling you might resist. Just think about it, though. We got married so young, Nat. We both had some wild oats to sow, and we’ve both grown from the experience. It’s time to put it behind us. Especially for Chloe’s sake.”

  Natalie is speechless. So stunned at his audacity she doesn’t even know where to begin. Her heart hammers. “You put me through hell.”

  He lets out a deep breath and meets her eyes. “I know.”

  She’s surprised at the admission. A tiny part of her has to acknowledge that maybe he has grown. “Peter, I’ve moved on. There’s a new man in my life now. I don’t want to hurt you,” or maybe I do a little, “but I’m not interested in getting back together with you.”

  Anthony was right. Everything he said.

  “About that new man.” Peter leans back in his chair with a smug expression, fiddles with his napkin. “He’s younger than you, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “By how much?”

  Natalie considers ending this conversation and throwing him out right now, but a part of her, the insecure part she wishes didn’t exist, is compelled to continue. “Six years.”

  His raises his blond eyebrows. “Not as much as Lena and me, but still a big difference.”

  Natalie swallows. “It’s not that big.”

  “Trust me, I’ve been there, remember?” He picks up his water glass. “I’m the younger man, so I speak from experience.”

  She watches him drink. “What are you saying?”

  Peter sets the glass back down with satisfaction. “It doesn’t work. The older woman-younger man dynamic? It’s doomed to fail. Eventually, he’s going to want a woman who’s at least his own age.”

  Natalie doesn’t say anything. She wants to rage at him. Tell him he broke her heart once and now he’s trying to ruin her happiness again, but instead, she pulls out the chair Chloe vacated and sits down. Somehow the wind has been let out of her sails.

  They’re both quiet and then Natalie finally speaks.

  “Look, Peter, I—”

  “How about a glass of wine,” he says suddenly.

  “Wine? It’s barely noon.”

  “So, what?” He shrugs and then laughs. And it takes her back to when they were first married. They used to laugh a lot.

  He gets up and goes over to the wine cabinet. There’s still a few bottles left behind from when he moved his stuff out months ago.

  “Remember the Romanée-Conti we were saving for our fifteenth wedding anniversary?” he asks.

  Natalie watches as he gets two wine glasses out. She should have rearranged everything in the kitchen. It would have been fun to watch him fumble.

  “Our fifteenth anniversary is only a couple months away,” he reminds her.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something? We’re divorced and you’re engaged to Lena.”

  “Lena and I are finished. I don’t want to marry her. I never did.”

  “What about that big engagement ring?”

  He gets out a corkscrew. “She pressured me into it. The truth is, we’ve been having problems for a while. When I saw you at that awards banquet, I realized how much I miss you.” He sighs deeply. “I made a mistake, Natalie. A big one.”

  She doesn’t say anything. What I would have given to hear those words a year ago.

  He grins over at her. “Let’s get remarried.”

  “What?” Natalie nearly falls off her chair.

  Peter puts his hand up. “Hear me out. A lot of couples do it. You’d be surprised how common it is. People get divorced and then change their minds all the time.”

  “I don’t want to get married again.”

  “We could do it on our fifteenth wedding anniversary. It would be like this whole past year never happened. A hiccup in our marriage.”

  A hiccup?

  “You’re not hearing me, Peter. I don’t want to marry you again.”

  He reaches down and selects a bottle of wine from the wine cabinet. Natalie watches him as he uncorks it and pours them both a glass.

  “I opened one of those bottles of merlot we bought from that little vineyard in Napa. Do you remember it? The one where we sat watching the sunset together.”

  Natalie does remember. They’d been touring vineyards all day and their final stop was a tiny winery off the beaten path. The owners opened a bottle for them and it was such a peaceful location. They sat holding hands watching the sun go down, the sky a kaleidoscope of colors, and the wine they drank tasted just like that vibrant sunset. It was remarkable. Peter bought a whole case and shipped it home. It was the last romantic memory she has of them together.

  He brings her a glass and then sits down beside her with his own. His eyes are on her face as he takes a sip from his glass, letting
it linger before swallowing. “It’s just as good as I remember.”

  The wine in her own glass is glistening red. And even though it’s only noon, Natalie finds herself picking it up, taking a slow sip. Peter smiles at this small triumph.

  To Natalie, though, it’s just a pleasant merlot. That’s all.

  I don’t taste that vibrant sunset anymore.

  She takes another sip and notices that Peter is studying her.

  “I can’t get over the change in your appearance. You really do look beautiful, Natalie.”

  “Thank you.”

  His eyes are traveling from her face slowly down her body. Natalie’s wearing a fitted V-neck shirt and a pair of dark bootcut jeans. And she knows she looks good. She’s at peace with her curves at long last. Eventually, his eyes make their way to her face again and it’s the expression there that startles her.

  He’s looking at her as Anthony does.

  With desire.

  If only he’d looked at me like that when we were still married.

  She puts her glass down.

  “It’s time you went home,” she tells him.

  “Do you really think your relationship with this guy is going to last forever?”

  “I don’t know.” Natalie thinks about last night. It was wonderful. Anthony is wonderful in every way. They haven’t discussed the future, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have one.

  Peter stares into his glass, swirling the dark liquid. “It won’t.” He looks up at her. “After meeting him, I can tell you it’s not just the age difference, either. You and I are the same kind of people. That’s why it always worked between us. But he’s different.”

  She stares at Peter.

  He nods. “I can tell by the expression on your face you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He reaches over to take her hand. “I made a big mistake, but let’s not compound it. Let’s not waste any more time.”

  Suddenly, Chloe bounces around the corner into the kitchen. “How’s it going in here?” She’s smiling and when she sees that Peter is holding Natalie’s hand, her smile grows even wider. “Have you guys made up? Is Daddy moving back home?”