While I really didn’t think my daughter or I did anything wrong to cause Tom to switch gears as drastically as he did, a niggling feeling at the back of my head told me that even if Sam said she was comfortable staying here alone with him, I wasn’t ready for that myself.Tom seemed like a nice enough guy, but I knew nothing about him, save from what Cameron—and trusty Google—told me.So before I left the most important thing in my life here by herself, I needed to vet this mystery millionaire a little more.
Hopefully, Gabrielle and her sleuthy ways could help.Otherwise, it looked like I’d be spending more time with Tommaso Barone because given how at ease my daughter seemed after just an hour there with animals, she was probably going to want to spend a lot of time there.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tommaso
Ibarelyheardtheircar tires crunch across the gravel as they left, but knowing that theywereleaving eased a lot of the pressure in my chest.
It was like Portia herself was sitting on my sternum, crushing me and making it near impossible to breathe.I hadn’t had an anxiety attack like this—or as severe as this—in a long time.Probably close to two years.But I knew them when I felt them, and when the sudden dizziness hit me, coupled with the racing heartbeat and tingling in my fingers, I knew I needed to get to a quiet, dark place.
So there I sat.In my bathroom with the lights off, the door closed, and Portia plastered right beside me as I focused on my breathing, trying to get my inhales deeper, and prolonging my exhales.
My palms were sweaty, or maybe that was just pond water, but when I went to shove my hair out of my face with my hand, my entire arm trembled.
Why now?Why was I having an anxiety attack now?
Portia had been with me the last few times I had an attack, and almost seemed to know that I needed her.So she quietly sat there, leaning against me with all her weight.Her presence, and steady heartbeat eased that vice-like feeling around my ribs, and I rested my trembling hand on her back.She snorted softly and leaned back even more, almost like applying deep pressure to help regulate my parasympathetic nervous system.
She certainly wasn’t a trained emotional support animal or anything like that.She was just an intuitive little pig and my very best friend.
I’m not sure how long I sat in the dark, quiet bathroom, in soaking wet clothes, but time didn’t matter right now.What mattered was not feeling lightheaded, or the pain in my chest.What mattered was not having any numbness or trembling in my hands.
Portia shifted her position and lay down, resting her head on my thigh.After a while, she started to snore.
I placed my hand on her head, but she didn’t rouse enough and continued to gently snore.
I timed my breathing with her inhales and exhales, my head against the vanity cabinet as I slowly ran through the events of today, and the last hour, and what could possibly have triggered me to have an anxiety attack.
I knew they were coming, and I’d been nervous about it all morning and early afternoon.Danica St.Claire was a striking woman, and I found myself thinking about her a lot over the weekend.
What was her story?
Was Sam her only child?
How old was she?
What kind of food did she like to eat?
What kind of wine did she drink?She owned a winery, but did that mean she only drank the wine they made?Or did she have a welcoming and variable palate?
I certainly didn’t.I drank only Italian wine, and only from a very specific region in Siena.
Call me a snob, but I liked what I liked.
Maybe it was guilt that caused me to have an attack.Guilt that I found another woman attractive when I promised my heart for eternity to Erin.
With my eyes still closed, I tilted my head against the cabinet door and faced the ceiling—or the heavens, if I were a religious man.“Amore mio,” I said softly.“You are the only one.I swear to you.Forever and always.”Spinning my wedding band around on my ring finger, I continued to focus on my breathing.Images of my late wife, Erin, flitted through my mind, only, they weren’t nearly as clear as they normally were.In fact, they started to get fuzzier the harder I tried to bring them into focus.Soon, her chestnut locks grew lighter—blonder.Her brown eyes became green, and she sprouted a couple of inches.Before I knew it, Danica stood in front of me, smiling and holding out her hand, just like Erin had been.
“No!”I barked out into the darkness, startling Portia and making her grunt in surprise.
My hand fell to her head instantly.“Scusami, piccolina,” I murmured, giving her ears a scratch.
She settled again, but I knew I couldn’t close my eyes because I’d just see Danica once more.
My hands no longer trembled, and my breathing was deeper, but I still felt dizzy.I still felt … not myself.
It had to be the guilt.I couldn’t think of anything else that would have triggered it.
