And her.
Appraising her appearance in the full-length mirror once more, another tide of pleasure swept over her, immersing her in satisfaction. This was the one. She turned, and checked the rear angle of the elegant black sleeveless silk. A one piece, it had a wide banded scarf that tied at the waist and hung freely over long, matching, flowing dress pants. Her heels this evening were black and strappy and lined with crystals.
She gauged the appropriateness of her attire. Vic said he wanted dressy and this was it—not too sexy, not too tight, it was the perfect blend of sophistication and allure, suitable for the fanciest restaurant in Miami. Wherever that may be. Vic had refused to tell her where they were going. Only to dress for the best. Clipping oversized silver hoops in place, Sam inhaled deep and full, and steadied herself. She was ready.
“Vic’s here!”
Jess’ voice ricocheted through her bedroom and broke her calm like a shatter of glass. Nerves sputtered and popped. Damn it, why was this so difficult? It was dinner with her lover, a man she knew.
“And he’s got flowers!”
Sam nearly tripped as she whipped her head toward the living room. What? A flurry of silliness skirted through her pulse. Flowers? She giggled. What was he doing?
This was crazy...
Crazy in love.
She quickly struck the thought from her mind and admonished her juvenile reaction. They were two con-senting adults involved in an affair—granted a passionate, exciting, fabulously delicious one—but an affair, nonetheless.
There was no room for giddy and silly. They weren’t going to the prom.
But excitement flung through her limbs, refusing to be subdued by good sense. Was there? The image of Vic standing in her living room, a bouquet of flowers in hand drew a smile onto her lips.
Enjoy it, she decided. Enjoy the moment, experience the pleasure, accept it as it comes. One never knows what life has in store. Pulling one more breath of air into her chest, she pushed through her bedroom door and froze, the breath flushed clear from her lungs.
“Oh my God...” She felt a brush of light-headedness.
“They’re for you,” he said proudly, decked out in a formal black suit and tie, his smile rivaling the brilliance of the sun.
She gaped at him. For me?
In his hands had to be fifty of the most beautiful, delicate, perfectly formed roses she had ever seen. A spray of baby’s breath encircled the bunch, the bundle wrapped in ruby red tissue. She could smell them from here, the distinctive perfume saturating her condo. She tried to register the moment, her heart swishing in a sea of confusion. “They’re beautiful.”
“Where would you like me to put them?”
“Uh...” Put them? All of them? Together? She glanced at Jess across the sofa, who was staring at her older sister as though she’d grown horns from her head.
“They need water,” he nudged, more love in his eyes than she was comfortable acknowledging. “Do you have a vase?”
The sensible question jarred her into action. “Let me have them.” At once, she crossed the room and took the oversized bouquet, the thick, cloth-like paper velvety soft within her embrace. She stumbled again, her gaze darting from man to flowers and back again. “I’ve never seen anything so extravagant.”
“I’ve never met anyone so extravagant.”
Her cheeks stung hot as she smiled, her insides turned to goopy mush. “Thank you,” she murmured, suddenly at a loss.
“You’re welcome.” Vic leaned over and pecked a respectable kiss upon her lips, as though decorum mattered with Jess looking on.
Sam retreated into the kitchen, ignoring Jess’ mouth agape stare and searched for a vase in her pantry. Did she even have one large enough to hold them all?
“Those must have cost you a fortune,” Jess leveled.
Vic smiled. “Worth every penny to see your sister speechless.”
Jess slid a knee onto the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest. “So where you taking her to dinner?”
“It’s a surprise,” he whispered, loud enough so Sam could hear.
“A surprise?
“Yep. I like to keep her guessing.” He winked. “Keeps the romance sizzling.”
“Oh, brother.” Jess whirled around, and dropped herself onto the sofa. Snatching the remote, she clicked through muted channels without another word.
Working with the largest vase she owned, Sam watched the exchange with amusement, but her hands ceased their busy work as it hit—Jess was jealous. Or envious. Did it matter? Empathy took a bite out of her thrill and her heart fell. Poor thing. Romance was not on her menu for the evening. Not even close. Luke was coming over.
Sam eyed the bouquet in the sink like an unwelcome intruder then glanced at the back of Jess’ head. Ambivalence dimmed her excitement. It didn’t seem fair. She wasn’t even in the market for romance, yet here she was, elbow-deep in flowers while Jess was wallowing in the doldrums.
But what could she do? A burst of excitement raced through her mind, whisked through her heart, and pushed regret aside. Nothing. There was nothing she could do.
Except move along with her evening. With Vic.
Sam hurried her movements and hoisted the stems up and then deep into the V of the crystal vase, stuffing and fluffing the arrangement into a passable display. The sweet aroma swirled around her, tempting her to linger, but she didn’t want to rub Jess’ nose in her happiness any longer than she had to, gorgeous flowers or not.
Forgoing any more fuss, Sam pushed the hair from her face and toned down her delight as she rounded the counter. “Jess, if you need me, I have my cell phone, okay?”
Her sister put the remote down and replied with a chopped sigh, “Yeah.”
“I’ll see you later, all right?”
“Hopefully, I won’t be up.”
Sam allowed the dart to pass.
“Ready?” Vic asked, his voice eager.
She looked up at him. Pumped, primed, the man was ready for action. “Yes,” she nodded, and found herself looking forward to the evening with more excitement than she imagined possible.
When the door closed, Jess was swallowed in tears. Relief crashed in. What if they had seen her cry—she’d have been horrified! They’re beautiful. The words scratched across her heart. I’ve never seen anything so extravagant. Jess jammed herself into the sofa and hugged her body tight. She tried to shut out visions of Vic and the love he wore on his sleeve like a badge of honor.
I’ve never met anyone so extravagant.
Smiling, winking, the two of them made her want to puke! Vic could have cared less if she existed, only humored her by acknowledging her presence, because he was so wrapped up in Sam he couldn’t see straight.
Her sister’s happiness chapped her mood. The stupid grin, the shy schoolgirl routine. Jess’ heart wailed—it wasn’t fair!
Luke’s image popped into her mind. He used to have that same whooped look, but not anymore. Now he looked sad, depressed, acted like it was all her fault. Jess hugged her arms tighter. Well, it wasn’t. It takes two to have sex. She didn’t do this to herself. He helped!
Brad’s face butted in and she pressed her eyes shut. Go away! You were one night—one lousy night I have to pay for by telling Luke. Jess flung an arm out and slammed it into the pillows. Damn it! Disgust roiled through her belly as tears streamed down her face.
Because Sam was making her. Because it was “the right thing to do.” Jess’ eyes burst open. She yanked her arm back from the pillows and locked both into a clenched knot over her chest.
What did she know, anyway? Sam wasn’t going through this. No. She was flitting about on a date. Walking around like some dimwit with her head in the clouds.
What happened to her? Sam didn’t do silly. She was tough—a bitch. Hell on wheels. A sudden sweep of clouds outside doused the living room in gray, silent images bounced and flickered on the television screen as the threads of her mind frayed.
What happened...? Jess su
cked in a nose-full of sniffles. How did it come to this?
But deep in her heart, Jess knew exactly what happened. Her sister was falling in love. A man was ga-ga over her and she was lapping it up. She was happy.
Happy. The sliver of truth floated in on a whisper and wound itself around Jess’ heart. Everything she wasn’t. A fresh round of tears pushed free and rolled down her cheeks. Jess dropped her head. Because she got pregnant. Too drunk to care, she didn’t insist Brad use a condom. Or Luke. Because she thought she knew her cycle. Understood how biology worked. Believed that if he pulled out in time there would be no problem.
But she had been wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
A slight error in judgment which bore major con-sequences. Not for Brad and not for Luke, no matter what Sam said. It was she and she alone who suffered. Jess peered at the door with trepidation, as though it would jump out at her.
But it wasn’t the door she was afraid of it was Luke. Soon he would walk through it, and all hell would break loose. She squeezed her eyes shut.
It wasn’t even an hour before the call came up from the doorman. Luke was here. Then the man asked, “Should I let him in?”
Jess almost replied no. Send him away. Far, far away. But because that wouldn’t solve anything, of course she agreed. Did she have another choice?
Luke was quiet, solemn. There was no light in his eyes, no warmth. He was here because she asked him to come. Because they had to talk.
Luke sat on the edge of his seat, situated across the table from her. He didn’t join her on the sofa. Didn’t console her, didn’t tell her everything would be okay. He didn’t so much as touch her. “Do you want me to go with you?”
Behind him the night was dark, the view non-existent. Though she knew evenings on the twenty-first floor of Sam’s building were a sight to see, from big city lights to the Port of Miami, homes dotting the islands around the bay, right now it only held blackness. “No,” she murmured, unsettled by the absolute quiet of Sam’s home. No noise, no distraction. Nothing but calm.
“When are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t wait.”
If I hear someone tell me I can’t wait one more time, I’m going to scream, Jessica thought. But she didn’t. She didn’t do anything. She didn’t have the energy.
“You don’t have to do this, babe.”
That’s what she wanted to talk about. Not Brad, not her infidelity, but that—her options. Though she wasn’t ready to reveal as much to Luke, she was afraid she couldn’t go through with an abortion. She hung her gaze onto his. “Don’t I? What choice do I have?”
“You can have the baby.”
“And do what with it?” This was the clincher, the deal closer. If she had it, what would she do with it?
“If you don’t want to be with me, if you don’t want to take care of it yourself, then give it up for adoption.”
“Adoption?”
“Yes. Let someone else take care of our child.”
Our child.
“Just don’t kill it.”
He made her sound like some psycho-murderer—which she wasn’t. Sam’s version of her was much better than Luke’s. She was a young woman. A caring, loving young woman who made a mistake. Foreboding fired through her veins. Except for the tell-all part. “I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
She shook her head as the admission escaped, “I can’t.”
“Does that mean...?”
Hope tiptoed into his gaze, though she noted he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “I don’t know what it means, Luke. All I know is when I picked up the phone to call the doctor, I couldn’t.” She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t move.
She couldn’t go through with it.
“We can do this,” he urged, as though infused with new energy. “Together we can make this work. I know we can.”
There he goes again, she thought, fear skating up her spine. The “we can do anything” spiel. She peered at him through the silence, and the gnawing returned. Until you find out the truth, then there won’t be a “we” to it!
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam and Vic arrived at the office together. It was a weird feeling, this concept of spending so much time together. They worked together all day then wound up together at night. Over and over again. Like a married couple.
A shudder scurried up her spine.
Married couple.
Marriage.
Sam slapped the pen to her desktop and fixated on the thought. Where the hell did that come from? Her gaze seized onto the red lounge chair in the corner, the one she hadn’t used in months. Smooth and supple, shiny and clean, the leather gleamed with non-use. Why hadn’t she sat there lately, to ponder life, work, the obstacles in her current case?
Because her days and nights were filled with a man, with no time to think? The walls closed in. Because she was too consumed with her sister as opposed to her case? The recent failures of her expert witness crowded in.
Had she allowed herself to slip? To become dis-tracted?
And why would her mind even venture near the concept of marriage? Forget that she and Vic were miles away from the ritual, she wasn’t interested! Never had been.
Sam swiveled around in her chair and sent her gaze flying out the window. Dotted with boats, littered with sunshine, the water stretched out before her, bordered by small luxury islands, home to millionaire estates boasting a tropical flair. Miami was a city with energy—heat. From the beaches to the skyscrapers, the Caribbean in its backyard, this city was the picture-perfect place to live, much like her life. Everything she wanted she had; freedom, power and success her life was picture-perfect.
Hell—she didn’t want to get married any more than she wanted to jump out her window! Her heart came to a thundering stop. Did Vic?
As though she were practicing a foreign language, she lost all ease of thought, the concept uncomfortable to the tongue. They were lovers, friends... Sure, they said the words, enjoyed the deeper level of connection... But that’s all it was, right? A connection, a feeling... It didn’t meant anything, didn’t change anything. Did it?
“Hey, boss.”
Sam jumped at the sound of Maria’s voice and whirled around. “Mare,” she said in a rush of breath.
“What’s the matter?”
“What?”
“You.” Dressed in bright yellow, gold hoops dangling at her ears, she glanced around the room. “You okay? Did I interrupt something?”
“Of course not,” she replied, thankful her paralegal couldn’t hear the pounding in her chest.
Maria walked up and plopped down a stack of files. Her eyes grew sharp. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Of course I am. I’m fine,” she insisted, and rolled her chair back in under her desk and asked, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You look kinda, you know,” heavily-lined black eyes turned accusatory, “flustered.”
Sam smiled at the dramatic tone. “I assure you, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” Except these insane thoughts I’m entertaining. But she wasn’t going there. Not in this lifetime, anyway. “Is Raul here, yet?”
“He just called. Wants you in his office, rapido.”
She leapt up with a grin, relieved for a change in course. “Just the news I’m waiting for. Thanks, Mare.” Relieved to have a new line of focus and escape Maria’s scrutiny, Sam headed for the door, Maria close at her side.
Marriage. My God—the mere thought was insane!
Sam hurried out of the office. The girl was too close to her to miss the signs. The signs of love. She groaned inwardly and picked up her stride.
More space. I need more space. Her emotions were playing tricks on her mind. They tempted her to daydream and lose focus from the tasks at hand.
Which would not do. She was going to have to get a grip. She was an attorney—a shark—a high-powered defender of justice! Not some sappy teenager who had nothing better to
do than think about her boyfriend all day.
Barreling through her rationalization, Sam picked up her stride as thoughts ripped and tore. She was marked for partner in one of Miami’s most prestigious law firms. She didn’t have time for this mind mush.
Sam breezed into Raul’s office and came to a halt behind one of his blue-covered chairs. “You have news on Scaliano?” she asked, intent on shifting gears.
“I do.”
She grasped hold of the chair back and gently pressed her grip. “Good news or bad?”
“Good. DA says he wants to hear more about our evidence against the CEO.”
A flood of relief swamped her. “Wonderful.”
“Have a seat, Sam.”
She did as he asked and crossed one leg over the other, pulling the coral linen hem over her knee.
“I have a contact,” he said, and something wavered behind his eyes, “who assures me we’re poised for success.”
“Really?” She settled in for details. “Who?”
Raul pulled back. “I’d like to keep that confidential for the time being, but trust me when I say he’s more than reliable.”
Okay. She was used to confidential sources. She leaned back into her chair, studying his expression more fully. It still felt like he was holding back. “What did he have to say?”
“The DA wants everything we have on the man. Perry Fitness, Regency Hotel, and anything else we may know. Do I remember correctly, you mentioned your bartender friend knows of another incident involving Mr. Scaliano?”
“Yes,” she replied with a suppressed smile. And he’s not my bartender friend Sam wanted to add, though she understood it was Raul’s way of glossing over any extracurricular activities she may have involved with the man.
But then again, Raul didn’t know about her and Vic. Nor was it any of his business, though she suddenly wondered if it would matter. Would Raul care that she had taken up with Vic? Would he frown upon the liaison? She’d never really been serious with anyone before. “Gateway Suites,” she replied, abandoning the new track of thought her mind was taking. “Maria’s working up a file on them as we speak.”
Lust on the Rocks Page 23