Oh shit. Was I having a panic attack?In and out.I haven’t had one of those since childhood.In and out.The jitters slowlyrecede, and I welcome the sweep of calm that slowly but surely begins to push through.In and out.
I don’t know how long we remain like that, but it’s enough to bring my racing thoughts to a startling ease. The spike of adrenaline quickly recedes into embarrassment.
Lorenzo must think I’m a joke. A coddled princess. I’m not as strong as my friends. They’re daring and bold in their own unique ways, and I live in a glass house, trying to appease my family. My only outlet, the only part of me I give myself space for, is the florist shop. But how insignificant is that to a man who most likely sees blood daily? Hell, he’s probably the executioner. I must seem like an embarrassment to someone like him. I haven’t been able to keep my emotions in check since everything that transpired in Italy. I guess I’m learning what I’m really made of, and it’s pathetic. Especially because the person who’s soothing my inner storm is a man I very much think lacks emotion or empathy.
“You’re a dangerous person, aren’t you?” I ask quietly, staring into his eyes. Despite already knowing this, it’s the first thing I can think of blurting out to distract me from my spiraling thoughts that I’ve often had to fight through this past week.
I know his answer before he gives it.
“I am a dangerous man,” Lorenzo says each word slowly, as if letting me absorb their weight and magnitude. If anything, I’m grateful he didn’t make a comment like, "Finally talking to me now, Sunshine?"
“Fearing me is the smart thing to do. But know that I will never hurtyou. However, don’t ever confuse me for a hero or knight in shining armor. I’m only here because I was ordered to be.”
A mocking laugh bubbles from my throat, and I sound unhinged. Maybe I really am losing it, but it’s enough to exorcise more of this unsettling energy. “No, a hero you certainly arenot,” I say, gliding my hands down the silk of my light-yellow dress. It does nothing to distract me from the heat emanating from his hand still cupped around my nape. He says he won’t hurt me, but these hands could easily break my neck. “If you could remove your hand, please.”
His eyebrows furrow slightly, and he looks at his hand, as if only just realizing he's still touching me. He clears his throat, grips the wheel with both hands, and pulls back out onto the road, unfazed by the onlookers.
I pull down the vanity mirror so I can assess my appearance. Whatever that panic attack was, I don’t want it controlling my life. I don’t want to be that scared girl anymore. Then again, it’s been a long time since I’ve feared anything besides my family's judgment. Perhaps this is what they call a rude awakening. I adjust the curls that frame my face and ensure my hair is still neatly positioned in a bun. I touch the pearls on my ears and necklace, as if trying to harden my confidence. I have to, if I’m going to survive tonight.
“My father will do a thorough background check on you. You’re hardly someone he would consider a proper suitor.”
“'Proper suitor.' Jesus Christ, who even speaks like that?” he sneers.
That little tickle of irritation begins to stir in my stomach again. “Excuse me, sergeant, but some of us have to abide by the rules of high society. You might dip your toe in it now and then because your boss tells you to, but I have obligations to my family.” The corners of his mouth tip up, and I realize he’s purposefully winding me up, and I too easily bite at his taunts. I don’t even know why I’m justifying myself, because he doesn’t care one ounce about how his appearance will impact my family's reputation.
“Must be tiresome being a good girl all the time,” he says, not the least bit apologetic.
“Don’t pretend like you know me,” I bite back, glancing up at the tall buildings that glitter against the night sky. I’ve always loved this city's splendor and constant busyness. Sometimes, I wish I could just get swept out into the sea of people and truly live amongst them, instead of caring what everyone thinks or how it might impact the Taylor name.
“I know enough to call a spoiled princess a brat when I see one.”
I chuckle darkly, and I don’t know where it’s coming from. “Ironic coming from a man whose master says ‘jump,’ and you ask, 'how high?'. Maybe we’re not as different as you think.”
“The difference is, I enjoy my position, Sunshine, while you’re clearly begging to run away from yours.”
It hurts. The amount of truth in that statement. Not that I’d ever give him the satisfaction of letting him know it. I don't want him to see any more of my weaknesses.
“Most people would thank the person who’s protecting them,” Lorenzo continues.
We’re only a few blocks away from the party, and the only thing I’m grateful about is the fresh air blowing in my partially open window, because laughing and smiling through the night is going to be a challenge, even for me.
And yet, he has a point. Maybe I’m picking a fight with the wrong person.
“I will assume your silence is a thank you.”
“Then you assume incorrectly,” I snap. What is it about this man that pisses me off? Is it because I’m still bitter from his rejection? Most likely. Despite having a million other concerns, I seem to come back to that minor detail.
“Yet, you’re not begging me not to go anymore,” he says, and I can’t stand his smug tone.
“Would you listen?” I ask dryly as I survey the upcoming building when the car slows down. A black carpet leads tothe grand front doors, where two cameramen wait. This event is nothing more than a breeding ground for rumors and a showcase of wealth. These events are all the same, no matter who hosts them or what the occasion is for.
“No,” Lorenzo says flatly as he brings the car to a stop in front of the building. I scan over my hair once more as he gets out of the car, walks around it, and hands the keys to the waiting valet. I’m actually shocked when Lorenzo opens the door for me and offers his hand. Does he actually know etiquette?
I glare at his outstretched palm, and the corner of his mouth tilts up ever so slightly. My eyebrows furrow because surely, I'm hallucinating for me to actually think I saw the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Come on, Sunshine, we’re only here because of you,” he says blandly. I don’t understand this man. He goes from completely cold to the tiniest touch of warmth, but I’m certain that’s only because of the cameras on us right now. The act begins now, and maybe Lorenzo knows how to play the part, after all.
I slide my hand into his, allowing him to lead me out of the car. My heels hit the pavement, and I adjust my dress accordingly. “You didn’t even tell me I look nice tonight.”
