I wouldn’t let him finish the thought. I couldn’t even finish it in my head. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Like Mick should’ve taken care of me.”
“I loved her first,” I said, using his words.
“You sure as fuck did. The shock of it almost gave me a stroke. Brando Fausti in love. That’s like saying a wild beast can only have one mate in his life.”
Yeah, only if she’s Scarlett Fausti.
“Good talk.” He slapped me on the back. “Now get to work. Maybe if you go under you can stop thinking. There’s nothing like hard labor to set your mind straight. I should know.”
He stopped a few paces away.
“Just for the record. I believe fate is a wicked bitch, but your wife’s not. I don’t think she’d ever hurt you in that way. But what the fuck do I know? I’m in a love triangle that eats me up every day.”
He took a few more paces and then stopped again.
“And put a shirt on! You’re making me horny. Your wife has exiled me with her guilt trip to a life of barren lands where blue balls abound. Which leads me to this question, if she expects me to do the right thing, what does she expect fromherself?”
Chapter Eight
Scarlett
I took to wearing dresses with deep V-neck backs. My mother saw the design and started making them as part of my line. The one that I wore today felt special. It was a crimson and gold number that cinched at the waist, what looked like a belt giving me definition, and then ballooned out, coming to rest just below my calves. Sandals were usually the ideal choice, but today, I paired the dress with a pair of exquisitely made black Italian heels, ones that made it look like my ankles were adorned with petals.
Rosaria used my camera to take a picture of me sitting on one of the stone fences, my legs crossed, on the property. I planned to include the picture in his next letter. And hopefully, when the time came for me to shout,Surprise! This is yours!,he'd connect each picture to the transformation of the house, and I supposed, me as well, and understand what I had been doing.
Putting a hand to my neck, I felt the hot sun on my back, absorbing it like love. Lifting my face to the sky, I closed my eyes. I inhaled and then exhaled. Rosaria had left, and I was engulfed in silence, which gave me time to think.
Part of my husband’s distance was because of mine. I was so intent on keeping to the schedule, so that the villa would be completed on time, that it seemed like we hadn’t really connected as we usually did.
His part in the conversations was usually terse, clipped. Mine, well, I was usually tired. I woke up before the sun and went to sleep well after it. Then there was the excitement—every time I thought of the times we would spend here, I became giddy.
Glancing back at the villa, I wondered if I should tell him. But I couldn’t seem to let go of the notion that I had something to prove.
Holding the heels in my hand, I decided to go for a little walk, my feet enjoying the feel of the warm brown dust on the road. The sound of a car motor caused me to stop.
I tried to wave, but the car continued to fly forward, almost out of control.
“Holy Mary!” I flung myself out of the way, landing with anoof!, stomach down in the grass. I turned my face just in time to see the car come to a screeching halt before it ran grille-first into a cypress tree.
Car is pushing it, I thought to myself. It had four wheels, but other than that, it was stunted at birth. The door creaked open, and before her heeled foot made it to the ground, I was up and running, my arms outstretched.
“Maggie Beautiful!”
She opened her arms and we collided.
“Scarlett Gorgeous!” She extracted me from her body and held me out. “Look at you! You look like…ME!”
We laughed, turning in circles, hugging like we were five. After what happened in Natchitoches, with the violent pincher, I found that her letters came less and less, and then one day the entire page was filled with I’M SORRY and hand drawn hearts.
I tapped at her cheeks. “Maggie Beautiful,” I sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to stay for a while. If you’ll have me.”
I pinched her and she threw back her head and laughed.
“Of course!” Then the surprise wore off enough for me to come to my senses. “Maggie Beautiful, h-how did you find me?” I looked around, wondering if I had somehow missed him. If the extensive hum that thrilled in my blood had started to fade from our connection.
