by Louisa Bacio
* * *
Everything else faded out, and all Mario could see was Lara. His Lara. She’d been such a part of his life for so long, and then she was gone.
Over the past six months, he’d thought about what he could have done differently. How about not taking her for granted, jerkwad? Yeah, that would have been good. Finding her on the day when they should have been getting married, celebrating their love surrounded by their friends and family was fortuitous. It was as if he was meant to find her and be with her. They belonged together.
But the fear in her eyes said something else. Her nostrils flared—just slightly, but he knew her. He’d thought, at one point in time, that he knew her better than she knew herself. She glanced toward the bedroom, as if she’d make a run for it, and then her shoulders sagged as though she was resigned to face the consequences.
Beside him, Ms. Lucy cleared her throat. “I would introduce you two, but from my understanding, you know each other quite well—Lara.”
Upon hearing her name, Lara cringed and then straightened her shoulders. “I go by Clarissa now.”
It was her given name. When she’d skipped town, she hadn’t taken a completely new identity. It wasn’t like going into witness protection. She’d been called Lara for so long, most people had forgotten her birth name.
“Good to see you, Mario,” she said softly.
Ms. Lucy stepped aside, and he moved closer. Her eyes were puffy and red as if she’d been crying—a lot. Over him?
That was a good sign.
Worry for her and anger at her warred within his mind. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. What had she been thinking? If something had been going on, she should have come to him, and he would have fixed it. They could have taken it on together.
“I’m not sure what to call you, Cara.” So he called her by a term of endearment. He looked her over, top to bottom. “You good? Feeling all right?”
She nodded.
“Your Momma is worried about you.”
And he lost her. She looked away, and he decided he’d better stay away from guilt. Not easy for an Italian boy.
“Well, you two have a lot to talk about, and I’m going to give you time to do it. Clarissa, you and I have some talking to do too.”
“I-I made you lunch,” Clarissa said, pointing to the table.
“It’ll have to wait until later. Right now, I don’t feel like eating and you need to work things out.”
“Thank you, Ms. Lucy, for trusting me enough to tell me the truth,” Mario said. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
The tall woman stood face-to -face with him and stared him down. He didn’t normally get intimidated, but something in her eyes made him wary.
“Don’t make me, because if you do, you’ll be very sorry.” After that warning, she smiled, which put him off even more. “When you’re done, I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“What?” Clarissa said, panic rising in her voice. “He’s staying?”
“Oh yes. I think there are some issues here that need to be worked out. Perfect for our new ‘couples’ sessions, don’t you think?” Lucy said. “The question is, who will be his partner?”
When Lucy left, Lara looked as if part of her had disappeared too. He hadn’t figured out the connection between the two of them yet. Obviously, they were friends if Lara had been staying with her. It was impossible to think of her by another name.
She moved toward the couch and gestured at the seat next to her. “Want to sit?”
“You have something to drink? A glass of wine or something? It’s been a hell of a day.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Excuse my manners. I should have…” she fluttered, her cheeks flushed and her hands moving about as though they were following the paths of butterflies.
“Cara mia, sit down, relax. You need to take a deep breath.” He moved behind her and touched her shoulder. Her skin felt so natural, so normal. He massaged it, trying to ease the tension. “You relax, direct me, and I can open the wine.”
She patted his hand, “Okay, wine’s on the rack in the kitchen. Pick whatever you like. The glasses and opener are in the cupboard above. Pour one for me too.”
The kitchen was small but laid out well. “Are you hungry?” he asked. “Did you want to eat?”
“How about just some bread. There’s a loaf at the end of the counter.”
He grabbed it, making quick slices and placing it on a plate she must have set on the counter for that exact purpose. Being in the kitchen was second nature for Mario. Not only had he grown up with his nonna and mom cooking, but his father ran a restaurant. It was only natural for Mario to become a chef. He poured olive oil in a smaller dish and twisted a salt grinder above it. He was an East Coast man and had only visited the West Coast once before this trip, so he didn’t recognize the California wineries, but he chose a sangiovese.
He had a lot to learn.
Chapter Three
The late afternoon light simmered through the window and glinted off the gold around Mario’s chest. Clarissa knew if she pushed down the collar of his shirt a few inches more, she’d find curly, black hair over his strong pecs, and an Italian horn on a chain. It was so stereotypical, akin to the New York “Hey, are you talkin’ to me?” accent. She’d once liked to remove it and trail the sharp tip over his abdomen and sensitive nipples. Even with him, she had liked to mix the edges of pain and pleasure.
“Are you going to eat that piece of bread or keep dipping it?” he asked, gesturing toward her hand.
A thick coating of olive oil dripped off the slice, and she placed it on the edge of the plate. Too much of a good thing. Again, like them.
While being with Ms. Lucy was all-consuming, being with Mario, with both their families around them, totally took over not only her life, but everything about her. She never had any free time. She felt she wasn’t able to think for herself, let alone make a choice that might possibly go against the consensus “family think.”
Can I be with Mario without getting sucked into all the drama?
“What’s going on between you and this Ms. Lucy? It’s real nice for her to let you stay here.” As he talked, she took a bite.
At his question, she inhaled sharply, a piece of bread getting stuck in her throat. Panic struck her as she coughed, and tears welled in her eyes.
Mario pushed out his chair and came around to pat her on the back.
“Are you okay? Here, have some water.”
Slivers of air passed through her throat, but not enough. She coughed again and held up her hand, indicating for him to stop pounding on her. He held a glass of water out for her, and she took a small sip, immediately feeling better. She rubbed her chest.
“Must have gone down the wrong way,” she said.
The question had taken her by surprise. As he returned to his seat, she studied him. Of course he would be curious. Did he suspect more than friendship was going on between her and Ms. Lucy? Probably not. It wasn’t as though she’d shown any signs of being attracted to women in the past. She’d remained in the role she was supposed to until she couldn’t any longer. And it wasn’t as simple as her having an attraction to women. Seeing Mario clinched it. She wasn’t only attracted to women. It was more about Ms. Lucy, but her feelings for her fiancé hadn’t diminished. During her time hiding out, she’d ignored them and the ache that nagged at her conscience.
What should I tell him? What do I want to tell him?
She reached across the table and took his hand. “I’ve missed you,” she started.
“Really? You haven’t shown it very much. You know, with all your calls, letters, and communication.” Although his voice turned sarcastic, he didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t…”
“Did someone stop you?” He glanced around the room, and his voice grew louder. “Did they hold you hostage? Take away your phone? Somehow keep you from contacting me?”
“No,” she whispered. “I came here on my
own, under my own free will. I enrolled as a student.” In the face of his anger and fear, she crumbled. It’s what she always did. It was easier to back down rather than hurt him. “You don’t understand.”
Still holding her hand, he came toward her, took her other hand and dropped onto his knees. “Then tell me. Make me understand. We’re supposed to be in this relationship together. We were supposed to be married today. We spent our entire lives coming to this point, and you ran away. Something made you leave. Talk to me.”
“Ms. Lucy is my partner. We’re lovers. She’s not letting me stay here. I’m living here, with her.”
At that admission, he dropped her hands and paced across the room. When he reached the living room, he shoved back the curtains and stared outside. He stood like that, one hand against the cool glass, for a few beats of her heart. She ached to go to him, hold him, take the pain away, except this time, she knew she was the cause of all that hurt and confusion. He’d come looking for her and hadn’t gotten what he’d expected.
When he finally turned around, he said, “What’s this mean for us?” His voice was harsh, ragged.
“I don’t know.” Even she didn’t like the answer, but it was the truth. “I haven’t contacted you because I’ve been trying to figure out what I wanted.”
“And does she know—Ms. Lucy—about us? Did she seduce you away from me?” he asked.
She looked down at the table and took another sip of wine, letting the rich texture rest on her tongue, before shaking her head. “No, I didn’t tell her. She knew I was involved with someone before I came here but not that I didn’t end our engagement. I wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what? That we’re over.” He brushed his hands on his jeans, as if wiping something nonexistent off them. “Well, I came here for the truth, and I guess that’s what I got. Although, it wasn’t the one I wanted.”
“Wait, don’t go.” She grabbed at his shirt. “I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of not being with you. I wasn’t ready to let go.”
“It’s not fair, though,” Mario said. “You’re either with me or you’re with her. You can’t have both.”
Reality hit. He’d just given her the ultimatum she’d feared the most. He’d gone there, within minutes.
“But I haven’t been able to decide.”
His top lip turned up in a sneer, smearing his handsome face. “Then I’m glad I found out this way.” When he looked her over this time, it was with an odd disinterest. “Before I commit to spending my life with someone, I’d like to see what I’m buying.”
He stepped through the front door and slammed it so hard, the shockwaves reverberated through the windows. Clarissa sank to the floor and broke out in tears for the third time in as many hours.
Outside, Mario leaned against the closed door. He’d come seeking Lara and answers, and he’d found both. But instead of leaving with her in his arms, he was running from her with his heart ripped out. He’d wasted enough time in his search. She’d definitely moved on, and it was time for him to follow. To think, he’d been worried that something may have happened to her, that she may have been in danger when in reality she’d found someone else. And left him behind.
Jolene, the cute, young, blonde waitress at his father’s restaurant had more than hinted at being willing to help soothe his wounds. He’d avoided being alone with her, and had politely refused her advances on more than one occasion. He shrugged off the idea. He didn’t want Jolene or anybody else. The woman he wanted was in the house behind him, and he needed to walk away.
Pushing off the door, Mario steadied himself for the journey ahead. He’d have to return to New York, empty-handed, and tell them what? Lara had left him for a woman? Oh, that would go over well. Maybe he’d leave that part out.
Night had fallen while he’d been talking with Lara. He’d followed Ms. Lucy on the winding path here, but he hadn’t paid attention to where they were going. He’d been focused on the destination and on seeing Lara again and had never imagined he might have to leave on his own. Upon reaching a fork, he veered toward the right. The sound of laughter floated on the fog rolling in. The mist clung to his clothes, and he shivered.
If there were people ahead, they could probably direct him out of this place. Before Lara caught up or Ms. Lucy intervened. He didn’t think he wanted to see Ms. Lucy right now. Sure, Lara had said the headmistress hadn’t known that she was still engaged, but it was hard to believe they’d been together for so long without talking about serious issues. What had they spent all their time doing?
His mind went there, and Mario pushed the image of two gorgeous, nude female bodies away. His cock ignored the demand and grew semihard.
Reality brought it all back, and fast. She didn’t want him. She wanted someone else. As he turned the corner, all he saw was flesh. Beautiful naked bodies. His muscles tightened, and his neck constricted. What the hell is going on?
The more he watched, the more he was able to discern the assembled bodies. He must have stumbled upon some sort of play area. Or punishment? One woman lay over a sawhorse-like contraption, the top of which was covered in some sort of black, soft-looking padding. Her arms were stretched wide and strapped to the sides, and her breasts hung over the front. Her ankles were strapped to the ground, stretching her legs far apart. His mouth dried up.
He easily imagined Lara in that position with Ms. Lucy behind her. His mind then jumped to him being stretched out and reprimanded.
“Did you take a wrong turn?” He recognized the voice and turned around slowly. He knew a reproachful glint would be in Ms. Lucy’s eyes before he even looked at her.
“Ah, yeah. I was wrong. I don’t think it’s going to work out after all.” He should be angry at the woman standing in front of him, but honestly he didn’t blame her. Given half the chance, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to be with Lara?
With one hand on her hip, Lucy smacked a paddle against her thigh. Mario’s eyes followed the movement, and he couldn’t look away.
“Is that how it is?” she confronted him. “Once something doesn’t go your way, or at the slightest sign of an obstacle, and you give up? You run away?”
“I don’t see it that way,” he said. “She doesn’t want me. And you’re the obstacle. What the hell do you care anyway? You win.”
The sounds of a man spanking the woman on the sawhorse drew his attention. With each smack, the rounded globes of her ass danced in the low lighting.
Ms. Lucy moved closer, leaning toward him. “Is that what Clarissa told you? That she didn’t want you? Because that’s not what I saw.”
“She didn’t need to.”
“Listen, today may not have been the happily ever after you imagined.” She draped her arm over his shoulder and guided him away from the courtyard. As she passed a table, she laid down the paddle. “But I haven’t won anything. One look at Clarissa’s face, and I could see how much she cared about you. If you leave, she’ll always wonder.”
Her words stumbled, and her voice cracked. Mario glanced at his opponent. Her red hair and pale skin made her quite striking. Beneath that in-charge exterior and perfectly made-up foundation, he saw cracks though. She was afraid.
“And that means I’ll also wonder if I won by default. If Clarissa stayed with me because you made the choice. So why don’t we go get your things and you stay at least overnight? See how you feel in the morning.”
And if she was afraid, that meant he had a chance.
Chapter Four
Lucy didn’t know what to expect when she returned home. After the visit from Mario, though, she at least expected Clarissa would be in a mood. She possessed a few tricks to break her partner out of her own thoughts, and all of them culminated in ending up in bed.
Darkness greeted her when she opened the front door. After seeing Mario, she’d held the instructors’ meeting without her partner. Usually, Clarissa would be waiting with hors d'oeuvres or dinner. At least a glass of wine. The fact she wasn
’t, was not a good sign. Leftover dishes from her meeting with Mario remained on the table. Lucy put down her play-case, almost dipping it into a streak of red wine that had been spilled on the counter.
These were discretions that would normally get Clarissa into trouble. This time, though, she didn’t interpret the naughty acts as disobedience for the sake of frivolity, but rather from not noticing, and not caring.
“Hey, honey,” she called, making her way toward the bedroom. “Where are you?”
The sound of sniffles drifted out of the bedroom. She reached in to turn on the light and hesitated. Was she really going to console her lover over breaking up with with an ex? One she’d hidden from Lucy because she knew it could be a relationship breaker? It wasn’t right for Clarissa to have been with Lucy without fully ending her engagement. Oh, Lucy was open about a lot of things. Sex among several partners? Sure, as long as all parties involved were in the know and in agreement.
But in this case, neither Mario nor Lucy had any idea the other existed.
That’s how people got hurt.
Determined, she flipped the switch, flooding the room in a soft glow. Clarissa lay dressed in bed, her head against the pillows. Blotchy, red marks marred her pale cheeks, and her eyes were equally red and swollen.
“He-he hates me,” Clarissa sobbed. “I never wanted to hurt him. Or you.”
“There, there,” Lucy said, grabbing a box of tissues and handing them over. “I doubt he hates you. In fact, I told him just about the same thing an hour ago.”
“That he doesn’t hate me?” A loud honking of her nose accompanied the question, and Lucy did her best not to smile. Despite being all emotional, Clarissa remained adorable.
Boy, do I have it bad.
She sat on the edge of the bed, thinking all this was soon going to change. Their relationship would never be the same, even if they ended up staying together. Lucy brought Clarissa’s head against her chest and caressed her hair.