by Juli Valenti
I procrastinated as long as I could, running out of bottles and knickknacks to arrange in my bathroom. Cringing internally, I walked back into the living room, only Dane wasn’t there. Neither was the garbage on the floor or the glasses on the table. The sound of running water drew my attention and I made my way into the kitchen.
There, the man in question stood, rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, looking very domestic and right in my kitchen. I didn’t want him to look right here, he was my ‘right’ in New York. This was my space … and when you’re wrong in one city, you’re definitely wrong in another. Still, I couldn’t help but continue to watch him as moved, remembering how just a few days ago I would’ve felt comfortable enough to sidle up beside him. Now I wanted him to say what he was going to, and leave.
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, hiding my embarrassment under a snarky tone. I didn’t like that he was cleaning my mess – one that I shouldn’t have made to begin with.
“Already done. You smell better.”
He turned to face me and my cheeks heated under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes moved from my feet to my legs, up from my stomach to my chest, and to my wet hair before remaining still on my face. Desperate to keep space between us, I moved to sit at a barstool on the other side. Dane rested his hands on the granite counter before speaking again.
“Ryen, why did you run from me?”
“Are you really asking me that question? Really?” He seemed so confused that I’d run. Of course I’d run – well I didn’t run, I walked and waited in the rain. There had been another woman in his house, naked and wet, and here he stood eight hundred-plus miles away, asking me ‘why.’
“You should have answered your phone. That wasn’t my girlfriend,” he started, but I interrupted him.
“Oh, just a booty call? Some hot little thing you call over for times you wanted to stay away from me? I never once stayed at your place … or used your shower, but little miss tiny towel seemed right at home there.”
“That was Francesca.”
My mind turned for what seemed like forever, trying to place the name. A light bulb went off in my head, remembering it was the woman Gianpaolo was demanding he marry. Oh, that made it even better. The woman he allegedly had no feelings for, didn’t want to be with, yet she was the one who stood naked in his house. Great. That’s fantastic news, I felt so much better. Asswipe.
“No, Ryen, you’re drawing conclusions again. Stop it. Nothing happened between her and I. She’s running,” he said, shaking his head sadly. Sad about the things that were apparently broadcasting on my face, or sad that she was running, I wasn’t sure. I remained silent for a minute before curiosity got the better of me.
“What do you mean ‘she’s running’?”
“Her and Giuseppe. I was arranging to get them both out of the country before Dad could find out. If he’d known, or found out, a hit would’ve been put on my half-brother and I wanted him as far away as possible before it happened anyway. Him and the woman he loves.”
“That doesn’t explain why she was naked in a towel, dripping wet, Dane.” My words held little venom. His story made some sense, the pieces fitting together like a puzzle, but I didn’t like it. I’d drawn so many conclusions it looked like a Picasso painting in my head. Now he was dripping water and making the colors run. I just didn’t down shift that fast.
“She’d just taken a shower?” he said, the lilt at the end of his words seeming like a did you really just ask that sort of question. “Gus got to my house about fifteen minutes after you showed up – she’d been waiting for him. They caught the ten-nineteen flight out of JFK. I could tell you where they stopped for a layover, and where in the world they were actually heading if you don’t believe me, but I’d rather not. I wouldn’t put it past my father to come question you, see if you knew something about it. As it is, if he finds out that I did, I’ll probably be on the run too … or hurting pretty bad.”
Well damn. I felt like a grade A asshole right about now. There wasn’t a power tool big enough or strong enough to remove my foot from my mouth at this point. I was downright sheepish.
“Oh,” I said lamely. What else was I supposed to say? Dane, I thought you were a douche-wipe just like Aaron who didn’t give a fuck about my feelings? That seeing you with another woman hurt worse than anything has ever hurt before, and we barely know each other? That I went a little crazy and lost myself in a gaming world just so I wouldn’t have to face being home and not talking to you, not seeing you? ‘Oh’ was definitely the better option.
“Yeah, oh.” He sighed and moved around the bar to stand in front of me. I could feel his heat, smell this authentic Dane smell. God, I missed him, I thought pathetically. How someone can become so important to you in just a couple weeks is ridiculous … but he had. He was.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized, wanting to reach out and touch him but unsure of my welcome. If I were him I would be hurt that someone could think so lowly of me. I couldn’t even deny it – I’d jumped to incredibly wrong conclusions. He surprised me though, taking another step toward me and taking my hand.
“I wish you’d stopped and let me explain. I’m sorry you had to walk in on that – I can only imagine how you felt. Fran had actually told me to run after you, to stop you then, but I couldn’t just leave her. We were scared, nervous, on pins and needles, that someone on the wrong side of the law could figure out our plan and stop us. We just couldn’t let it happen. I wanted to come after you, so badly. You wouldn’t answer your damned phone either.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said again, meaning it. His eyes were so sad, so haunted, and it was because of me. The only time I’d seen this look was when he’d told me about his dad, and his dad’s line of work, and I hated that I was the cause this time. “I’m sorry I could think you’d do something like that – I’m sorry I didn’t ask questions first, run later. I’m sorry you had to come all this way to find me a hot mess.”
“I don’t blame you, Ryen, and I’m not angry with you. Yes, you scared the shit out of me – especially when I couldn’t find you and the paparazzi hadn’t posted any pictures to tell me where you were.” He closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing, before continuing. “Ryen, I think I could love you.”
Did he just say? Yes, he did, the voice in my head affirmed confidently. I wasn’t sure what to say, what to do. I knew that I could see a future with him, but how could he with me? I mean, Jesus, I’d ran out on him, accused him of cheating, and blown the coop, all without letting him say two freaking words to me. That didn’t sound like a very mentally stable partner to me.
“You don’t have to say anything back, really. I’m not asking you to marry me, or to live with me … yet. I just … I love how you space out when you’re thinking and every thought passes across your face for me to read. I love your tangents, how you rant and rave until you’re breathless. I love how easily you get distracted, regardless of what is going on around you,” he whispered, brushing a soft kiss across my forehead. “I love how into everything you get, whether it’s bowling or just walking in the park.”
“Dane, I … I think I could love you too,” I told him, meaning it, letting his words soak into my heart. A huge smile lit his face and he kissed me, pulling away after a moment to continue.
“I want to distract you from the world, Ryen. I want to be your distraction, your greatest distraction.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, allowing him to pull me off my seat and into his body. He was warm and comforting as he enfolded me against him, pressing my face against his chest. I breathed deep, relishing the feel of him. He caressed my back as he held me, holding me like he never wanted to let me go, like he’d been through hell and back just to get to me.
I guess I was a sucker for the grand gesture after all.
Epilogue
It had been a month since Dane came to Atlanta to talk me back into his life. A month of laughing and dating, long drives and overnight s
tays. He’d finally met Elle, and the twins – who both informed me that he was not, indeed, a troll. They may have also checked for a jewel in his belly button, but I’m totally not responsible for that.
I still worked at the doctor’s office, though now I retained part-time hours instead of full time. My dad had left me his money so I could live a happy, comfortable life – it didn’t make up for not having him around, but it left me free to have a life. I’d recently even landed a little bit of freelance photography work, after a picture I’d taken of the girls had gone viral. It wasn’t something I’d ever planned, or even explored, but I enjoyed it. For me, right now, that was enough. The boss wasn’t even mad I’d cut back hours – though only with the stipulations I never missed a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday.
Dane was living back in Birmingham, which I was pleased to discover was only two hours away; an hour and a half when he was driving in one of his fancy sports cars. He’d often surprise me after work, showing up with dinner and a movie, or randomly during the week for lunch. It was a good life that we were building. We’d agreed to be exclusive, boyfriend/girlfriend, if you will, but other than that, we had no promises for more just yet. We were both okay with that.
Tonight was April thirtieth, and I was surprised to find a large dress box on my doorstep when I got home from work. Taking it inside, I gingerly unwrapped it, gasping when I found a sapphire-blue, Dolce and Gabbana gown lying inside tissue paper along with a note:
Be ready, Cinderella, your carriage will arrive at seven. No one will turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and the gown is yours for keeps – I promise. – Your Prince Charming
Oh, he was charming alright. I couldn’t help my grin as I pulled the gown up and out, awwing over it. It was beautiful and I knew it would fit like a glove. I hung it up and a box was exposed underneath. Lifting the lid I found a pair of soft gray Louboutins staring up at me, the red bottom visible and everything. Attached was another note:
Don’t think I forgot the glass slippers. Don’t lose one – they’re not from the dollar store. – PC
I squealed in delight as I lifted them, admiring them from every angle. Normally I would’ve felt bad, but this was a gala for him so they didn’t really count as a gift for me. Checking my watch, five forty-five, I high tailed it into the bathroom to get ready.
The drive had been uneventful as I sat in the back of a stretch black limo, praying I wouldn’t wrinkle the gown. It was just after nine when we pulled up alongside the red carpet and my door was opened for me. Taking a deep breath, I grasped the hand extended toward me, steeling myself for the flashing of camera lights. As I was helped, I gasped to find it was Dane who’d lifted me out of the limo. He smiled his mega-watt smile and looped my arm in his, proudly stopping to smile for pictures as our names were called.
I couldn’t help but think back to my solo entrance at the charity event, how I felt alone in front of the cameras. Tonight, though, I truly felt like Cinderella, beautiful and on the arm of my prince. I was on cloud nine and, for once, I couldn’t wait for the gossip pages and the pictures they’d publish.
We danced, we drank, we celebrated Dane and his many accomplishes and the opening of the building. It was beautiful, something you’d see in a fancy magazine, and I couldn’t be prouder that he’d designed it himself. Seemed like Mr. Ranucci is one very, very, talented man. As the night drew to a close, much too soon for my liking, Dane escorted me back to the limo, climbing in behind me.
“It’s only Wednesday – don’t you have to work tomorrow?” I asked, watching as he straightened the slight train of my dress so not to step on it.
“Nope. Gave myself, and my staff, the rest of the week off. I’m the boss … I can do that,” he said, turning toward me. He leaned in to kiss me, but stopped abruptly. Confused, I followed his gaze, finding an envelope with his name written on it in a bold blocky print.
“That wasn’t here earlier,” I told him, nervous as he reached behind me and lifted it like it was a bomb. I watched in trepidation as he lifted the flap and pulled a piece of paper out, along with a couple photos. One was of my house, another of a bright blonde girl I didn’t recognize, another a Polaroid of us dancing.
“What does the note say?” I wondered aloud, though I didn’t really want to know. Something about the pictures, the way the note was left, made me uneasy. This was supposed to be my Cinderella night, damn it, and I knew something was about to ruin it. Dane didn’t say anything, instead handing me the note and looking out the window.
“Brian – I sent Todd on assignment to find Raven, the blonde bitch he robbed before she says anything, along with Francesca and Giuseppe. No luck on your half brother just yet, but he did discover your little plaything. You look so sweet together; I’d hate to break such a happy fantasy. You should rethink my offer.”
An ‘or else’ was implied at the end, and it didn’t have to be signed to know who it was from. Gianpaolo – Dane’s father. Mob boss. Great.
“What was his offer?”
“If I work for him, he’ll leave you be,” Dane answered, not looking at me. Leave me be? What did that mean?
“Let you live,” Dane clarified when I asked. “He’ll let you live.”
Well, shit.
The End
of Book One in the Distracted Series
Book 2, Global Distraction,
coming soon
Acknowledgements
There are so many people who have helped me along the journey of this book I know I won’t remember to put them all in here.
Rene Folsom, my amazing cover artist and friend, your help goes above and beyond anything I could ever expect and you have no idea how much I appreciate you.
Megan Galt with Novel Grounds, you’ve supported me from day one and I’m grateful for everything.
Jessica Perez and Tiffany Stevens, thank you for always telling me I could do it, for being excited at every tidbit, and for being my friend.
For everyone else I’ve missed, know it is not because I don’t appreciate your support or help. Each and every one of you know who you are, have been there for me when I needed you, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Can’t wait for the next one, ya’ll, and believe me, it’s coming!
About the Author
Juli Valenti grew up in a small town in Arkansas, known for Wal-mart, which is no longer small but is still known for the grocery store. Lucky for her, she didn’t retain an accent, despite her overuse of ya’ll when talking. She currently resides in sunny Florida with her husband and two young boys. If her world wasn’t crazy enough, she also works a full time day job, as well as owns her own editing company (Juli’s Elite Editing).
Follow Juli
You can connect with Juli via the following:
Website
www.julivalenti.com
Facebook
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Twitter
@thejulivalenti
Amazon
www.amazon.com/author/julivalenti
Juli’s Other Books
Coming Soon:
Global Distraction (Distracted Book 2)
A Little Broken
Vancleave (Learning to Submit Book 1)
All Our Love (Anthology):
All Roads Lead to Jackson
Table of Contents
Synopsis
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Follow Juli
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