“Sure. I’ll tell her.”
Chapter Thirteen
“How did job hunting go?” her mother asked when Alice walked into the living room.
“Okay.” She tossed her bag on the couch and took off the high heels.
The potential executive assistant position wasn’t anything stellar, but the company had an okay health insurance plan, and best of all, her boss would be an old wrinkly man if she landed the job. No déjà vu there. At least she had that going for her.
“Lorenzo came here looking for you. He said he wants you to go over to talk about some package.”
Alice started to rub the soles of her feet. Her palm grew slicker as she kneaded her skin, the cold sweat a heartless reminder of the state Lorenzo left her in. “I thought he wasn’t coming back for a couple more days.” Maybe he’d decided to get things going faster and needed to end all ties to Austin. What could he need her for? He had given her the twenty thousand bucks. Maybe a severance package? Although she had just worked for him a year. Hhhmm… She was sure his secretary could handle things like that. Unless…he wanted to make things a bit more personal, given their history.
Judy sat next to her. “He says it’s critical you go talk to him this evening. Something about a departure package. You’d better go; I told him you would.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Done with massaging her feet, she was about to stand up and head to the bathroom for a nice, long, hot bath when her mother nudged her elbow and motioned her to stay put.
Her mother crossed and uncrossed her legs, a telltale sign she was either nervous or about to deliver bad news. Please, let it not be about Rachel. “Honey, why didn’t you tell me Mr. Baldi wanted you to go to New York with him?”
She sagged on the sofa. “Because it didn’t make a difference. I can’t go.”
Her mother rubbed her forehead, then for a long moment didn’t say a word. She closed her eyes, and Alice was about to talk when she turned to her. Tears rimmed her mother’s eyelids. “Your father died five years ago. Ever since his death, you have done all in your power to help us. To be there for your family.”
“That’s what Dad would have wanted. That’s what he asked of me. And that’s what I promised him.”
Judy sobbed. “I know. He was worried about us, and thought I couldn’t handle being without him. But I can, darling. I can. Maybe I took advantage of you all these years. I was so worried about your sister and her illness, I ended up overlooking you and your happiness.”
“Why are you saying all this now?”
Judy wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “Because I don’t think it’s fair for you to keep doing what you’re doing. Your father would have wanted you to be happy. I don’t think he knew how seriously you would take that role.”
Alice shifted on the sofa until her ass neared the edge. She took a long, deep breath. What the heck just happened? “It’s not that simple, Mom. You had an ulcer not that long ago. You keep bitching about your blood pressure—”
“I’m almost sixty. Of course my blood pressure isn’t what it used to be. Sometimes stress gets the best of me. So what? That doesn’t mean I can’t take the reins, Alice. For instance, I did okay with you not being here over the weekend. I took care of the problem. I found someone to watch Brenda. I asked a coworker to fill in for me at work.”
Just like Lorenzo had said. Thank goodness he wasn’t around so she didn’t have to admit he had been right—about that, at least. Still, he hadn’t treated her right, had he? “I’m proud of you, Mom, for stepping up.”
Smiling, her mother held her hand in hers. “Then make me proud by stepping down. Go to New York and live your life. Something tells me that will be way harder to do if you stick around.”
“What about Rachel?” she asked, knowing she wouldn’t be okay with it until her mother guaranteed all of them would be watched and cared for. Letting me go is one thing, but taking my place? Was Mom ready for the challenge? Her heart tightened.
“Rachel has a disease she will have to live with, and so will we. We’ll get through it. And Brenda will miss you, but we will visit and you can visit us. Then, when you come, you can enjoy us as a family. The way that life is supposed to be. Without you having to act like the chief of the family.”
“I just felt if I didn’t do it—”
“No one would? I fell into depression after your father died. He was the love of my life. I almost forgot you are deserving of finding the love of your life, too. I will take care of your sister and Brenda. On my own.”
Alice’s heart loosened, and it was like the doors of a cage had swung open. Her face tensed, the pressure of tears forming tightening her forehead and nose. She was free, she realized. Free from a promise, and free to live her life the way she was supposed to. “I love you, Mom.”
Alice decided not to tell her mom about the other reason she couldn’t go to New York—because she couldn’t go back to being a nanny and work for the man she loved beyond description. She would take advantage of her mother’s willingness to be the chief of the family and she, Alice Sommers, would be the boss of her own life. She’d start making decisions based on what was best for her, and feeling bad about it was out of the question. But she wouldn’t go to New York—that would be too painful.
Sadly, her life no longer included Lorenzo, she realized, as she left the elevator and used her key to get into his condo—probably for the last time, a nostalgic part of her realized.
If he wanted to talk to her, she would stand there and look fabulous. She had matched a flowing lime green dress she had created with black pumps and shocking fuchsia lipstick. Hey, if you’re going down, may as well go down in style.
“Mr. B?” she called, refusing to verbalize he was still Lorenzo in her heart.
The lights were off, and a path of tiny vanilla-scented candles lit the way from the entrance. Interesting. Was he expecting company? Maybe Cara had planned an intimate farewell party for her? She tossed her bag in the corner and continued to follow the trail of light. Nibbles squeaked. The French doors to the terrace were open, and her stomach started to sink to the floor, just like on that elevator ride at Six Flags. Cara was so sweet that she wouldn’t put it past her organizing a little get-together before they left for good. God. Alice ran her hand over her face. How could she face everyone? Maybe her mother was in on it. Hadn’t she insisted that she come here? Practically hauled her out the door?
It was strangely eerie when her high heels clicked on the stone floor. She expected people to yell “surprise,” and jump up from the bushes or something. Nope. Nothing.
She continued to follow the trail of candles and realized it wrapped around the pool that was lit from the inside.
“You came,” Lorenzo said, and his eyes lit up like he was a kid about to go on his first roller-coaster ride.
She peered around, turning her head to both sides to see if she spotted Cara or anyone else she may have invited. “Where’s Cara?” she asked to distract herself from the nauseating sensation floating up her throat. Being near him after a few days only worsened the organic response her body wickedly darted at her.
“She flew back with me today, and I arranged for a sleepover at a friend’s.”
That didn’t make sense. Lorenzo wasn’t the type to do anything spontaneous, let alone throw her a farewell party. Especially when they seemed to be the only ones attending. “Well. You wanted to talk about a package?”
“Yes. The full package.”
“O-kay.”
He grabbed a champagne bottle from an ice bucket. She was so tense that the sound of the cork popping made her jump. “Viola called. I have the paintings. I don’t think that would have been possible without you.”
“Thanks.”
He filled a flute and gave it to her. The moment their fingers brushed, a humming passed between her legs. Lorenzo glanced at the flute, then raised his gaze to her. She yanked the flute from him, not giving a damn about the liquid spilling. If he was going t
o mock their attraction or think she would agree to a farewell fuck, well, she had news for him. As much as her body wanted to entangle with his, she had way more self-esteem than that.
“I have something for you.” He produced a small velvet jewelry box from his pocket.
“What is this?” She held it in her hand before opening it. “Listen, Mr. B, if you think a nice pair of earrings will get me in bed with you one last time, think again. I’m done with the booty calls.”
He grinned. “Why did I imagine this would be easy? What, with me having a hard time expressing my emotions and you rambling on when you get upset?”
She tossed the box in the pool. “There. Easy enough? Give it to someone else who’ll agree to whatever twisted proposal will suit you.”
“I don’t want anyone else, Alice. I want you.” The way he enunciated every syllable tightened her chest as if she had on the dreadful corset from last weekend. God. Why was it so hard to resist him? She bit her inner cheek hard so she wouldn’t say things she couldn’t take back. She had done that once, right? And where had that led her?
“That’s nice, but—”
“You working as my nanny isn’t enough for me anymore.” He gulped his champagne and put the glass on the table. “The trip to New York helped me realize that. I tried so hard to put you in a box, and to see you as my nanny only, because I didn’t want to mess things up. I kept saying it was about Cara, but I was trying to deny that it was about me. I didn’t want to want you as more than a nanny, or a booty call, like you just put it.”
Oh. No. Was he? Could he—
“I love you, Alice Sommers.”
She lifted her hand to her forehead and rubbed it. A lightheadedness stroked her, and suddenly her knees buckled under his confession. OMG. This was major. Thank goodness he pulled her to him, her softness slamming against the hardness of his chest, and the world was good again. He captured her mouth with his, not that she offered any resistance. His words still dancing in her ears, she linked her hands around his neck. His mouth searched hers, as if needing to discover every corner of her mouth.
“Wait. I need to tell you—” He broke the kiss but didn’t let go of her. She hoped he never would. Smiling, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I don’t need to move to New York City. If you don’t want to, I will make it happen from here. I understand your commitment to your family, and I will take you however I can get you.”
“Seriously? You would do that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, thank you. But you may not have to. I want to go to New York City with you and Cara.”
“Alice, that’s generous, but if that’s because of—”
She put a finger on his lips and shook her head. “Let me finish. I don’t want to pass on a good opportunity, personal and career wise, because I’m scared. I guess this was about me, too, maybe being afraid of moving on. I talked to my mother, and she guaranteed she will step up. I need to leave my comfort zone. With you. I want to experience all the zones with you.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want my wife to have any other outlook on life.”
Wife? “Was that an engagement ring in the box?”
He nodded.
Crap. “With a big fat diamond?”
“So big your finger may get a cramp.”
She slapped her forehead. “Can you please get it for me?”
“You got it.” He walked her to the edge of the pool, and before she had the chance to wonder why, he dove in and took her with him.
They submerged together for an instant before surfacing again. She gasped, more from the surprise than anything else. He swam across the pool until he spotted the box, dove for it, and swam back to her.
She laughed. Did he really do that? Silly man. Except he wasn’t silly. Not usually. Just for her.
“Alice Sommers, will you marry me?” He opened the box.
She blinked at the gorgeous, modern diamond shining at her. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
He kissed her. “Good. I’m planning a life of misbehaving together.”
“I hope so,” she whispered against his lips, and this time planted a couple of kisses in the corner of his mouth. There was no need to rush. Her former Mr. B, Lorenzo, cockalicious man wasn’t going anywhere…not without her.
Epilogue
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Lorenzo dipped his head and kissed Alice on the lips. The celebration of his first marriage had been a stuffy affair, with all of Kristen’s high-profile family members and upper-crust friends attending.
This one, he realized, as he glanced around to find his mother smiling and his daughter cheering him on, was quite different. Alice had insisted on having the ceremony at an outdoor venue just outside Austin, right before the sun went down. Six months had gone by since their move to New York, so it was nice to be back with her family—who he’d learned to enjoy as his own. He smiled at Rachel, who looked much better. Judy wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue.
The intimate crowd clapped as a melodious song started playing in the background. With the priest’s blessing, Lorenzo held her hand in his. This was it. “You are now an honest woman, Alice Baldi,” he said to her, and wondered if she heard amid the clapping and catcalling from the guests.
She leaned into him, her gorgeous chestnut eyes gleaming with a message only he could decode. From now on, he’d enjoy unveiling all the nuances of Alice Sommers Baldi. A jolt of happiness surged through him. She winked. “I believe it has to be consummated for it to count.”
He felt a grin teasing his lips and was about to say it had been real for months and their life together surpassed all his expectations, but instead he kissed her knuckles and said, “I’ll take care of that.”
“Does that mean tonight I will officially be Mrs. Lorenzo Baldi?”
“Who said anything about waiting for tonight? Don’t forget, you married an impatient man,” he said, and enjoyed the red shade spreading across her cheeks.
God, she was breathtaking. Her pearl-colored dress was long and pretty. She had designed it herself. Just like the gowns she had created since applying herself to her wonderful talent, it had a modern twist. She had insisted on no veil, her hair falling in smooth waves across her shoulders. The V-neck hinted at her gorgeous breasts, but fortunately kept them hidden for his eyes only.
“Congratulations, man,” Brent Turner, Georgia’s fiancé, said. The two of them had bonded during the trips Georgia and Brent had taken to New York. His friend patted him on the back, and Lorenzo smiled. It was nice to have another guy in his situation—in Brent’s case, divorced and with a daughter, and according to news that Lorenzo had been sworn to secrecy on, another one on the way. “Wish you guys all the best.”
“Thanks,” he said, although that seemed to be the overused word of the night. He was thankful, though, wasn’t he? After some pictures taken by the professional photographer, he admired the shades of pink, orange, and yellow surrounding the sun.
This is what the inside of the sunset looks like, my boy. He could hear his father’s voice, lively, low-pitched. Lorenzo touched his forehead and closed his eyes, willing that burning emotion away. For a moment, his cheeks and nose tensed. No. He wouldn’t cry. When was the last time he had cried?
“That’s a beautiful sunset,” Viola said behind him.
He drew in a long breath and blinked. “It is. Thanks for coming.” He pivoted and flashed her a genuine smile. Who knew Alice would keep in touch with her? Then again, why wouldn’t she? Even in his New York City building everyone already seemed to have surrendered to Alice’s charms. His wife. A pang of pride went through him. The fashion student who would take the world by storm.
“How are the paintings? You kept them, right?”
“In my New York apartment library,” he said, realizing his workspace became a notch warmer when he could look at the amazing work his father had done.
She slanted him a look and tapped her fin
gers on her wineglass. “Good.”
“Alice mentioned you were seeing someone. Didn’t want to bring him to the wedding?”
She shifted from foot to foot and sighed. “He’s nice, but we’re taking it slow.”
“Don’t take it too slow.” He winked at her. She stepped forward and took a swig of red wine. For a moment, they stood side by side, almost entranced by the breathtaking view from the hilltop.
Then, Viola studied his profile, for an instant longer than was comfortable. Did she have something to tell him? What in the world could she be holding back? The woman never held any punches. “You know, I never told you I met the artist. From your paintings. Benicio Laron.”
His gut clenched. What was this about? “No. I thought your husband got in trouble for partying with him.”
She smiled a little. “He did. Then once I had him bring his friend for dinner, so I could meet him and see who my competition was. Who was taking my husband out to party with women.”
“And?” he asked, jamming both hands in his pants.
“And, of course, even after having dinner I was still mad at them both. There was, though, one moment that almost made me change my mind. When I talked about wanting to get pregnant, Benicio showed me a picture of his son that he carried in his wallet.”
Lorenzo’s heart skipped a beat. “He did?”
Kindness flickered in her eyes. “It was a beautiful boy with dark hair and green eyes. Kind of like yours.”
He swallowed. “I see.”
“I asked him if he lived with his boy, and he said no. I asked him if he saw him often, and he said not as much as he’d like.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “I’m sure he could have found a way.”
“That’s what I thought, too. But he said he got into some sort of trouble, and staying away was the best way to protect his boy. I’m guessing he used alcohol as a way to deal.”
The terrorist ties. Of course. He remembered his mother yelling at his father after he took him to that meeting. His father never hurt a fly as far as he could tell. If anything, he had been an anarchist, a rule breaker who got mixed up with the wrong crowd. I see it now. “That’s stupid.”
A Weekend of Misbehaving Page 16