It is cold. It's also driving me insane.
"Maybe she regrets last night," Bruno says carefully. "Jumping out of the car."
"Or maybe she's playing games," Sal suggests. "Women do that. Make you sweat. See how interested you really are."
"Why would she play games? For what? We’re getting married. She doesn’t need to seduce me at this point. I’m already all in."
“You make a good point,” Sal says.
The afternoon passes. We deal with business. Bruno finds leverage on the customs official. His sister with the abusive boyfriend. I give him permission to handle it. Do the customs official a favor. Through it all, I check my phone. Nothing.
By evening, I'm in a foul mood. I've sent four texts. She's read all of them. She's responded to none of them.
"Just get it over with and call her like a normal person," Bruno suggests.
"I'm not calling her."
"Why not?"
"Because if she wanted to talk to me, she'd respond to my texts."
"You're just going to sit here staring at your phone?"
I'm saved from responding by my phone actually buzzing. I grab it so fast I nearly drop it. A message from Liana. Finally. I open it.
Liana: Sorry for the late response. Been thinking about last night.
That's it. That's the whole message.
I stare at it. What does that mean? Thinking about it how? Good thinking? Bad thinking? Regretful thinking?
The three dots appear. She's typing.
Then they disappear.
I'm going to lose my mind.
Finally, a new message comes through.
Liana: We need to talk.
Chapter 9: Liana
I stare at my phone screen, my thumb hovering over the send button as I consider the message I've typed.
Me: We need to talk.
It's been twelve hours since that kiss in the parking lot. Twelve hours of lying in bed, replaying every detail. The heat of his mouth against mine. The way his hands felt on my skin, firm and possessive. How I kissed him back like I'd been starving for it, like I'd forgotten every single reason why this was supposed to be fake.
One kiss. That's all it was. But that one kiss is threatening to derail everything I've worked for.
I hit send before I can overthink it and watch the message deliver. His response comes immediately, as if he'd been waiting: When?
I take a breath and type back: Me: Today. Your choice where.
Santino: My office. Social club. 2pm.
Me: Perfect! Can't wait!!!
