“You really don’t remember, baby girl?” Quentin said.
Remember what?I was going to say, but I figured he meant him and Abe.
“No,” I said, as I hit the unlock button on my car. I went to open my door, but Quentin stepped up, opening it for me. “The tree really did a number on my head. It set fire to a big chunk of what was stored in here.” I touched my temple for emphasis as I slid into the driver’s seat.
“How could you forget this?” He smiled down at me.
I blinked at him for a second before I returned it. “I guess we had conversations before?”
“Much better ones than you had with him.” He nodded toward Abe.
Abe lifted his arms in a WTF gesture. “Don’t believe him or his ego.”
Quentin threw back his head and laughed. I laughed too, enjoying the banter between them.
“You were always more fun than Assanti,” Abe said, grinning at me. “You have a sense of humor.” Then he looked up at Club D, his eyes narrowing. Quentin seemed to catch it.
His smile faded and he looked at me with a serious expression. “Go straight home, baby girl.”
Before I could ask why, he shut the door for me. He and Abe watched as I left until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe they even followed me home, but I wasn’t sure. Traffic was thick, and my mind wasn’t truly on the cars behind me.
My thoughts were onwhyI was being walked to my car in the first place. And the fact that I’d spent time with Quentin and Abe before, and we had conversations, and I couldn’t remember a word of them.
It was kind of jarring knowing I’d had a different life once—and I existed in other people’s memories, even though my own were gone.
Was that how it felt to be dead? Did we live on through other people’s memories?
By the time I made it home, my hands were tight on the wheel, sweat coated my body, and my head was killing me. Trying to create memories out of ashes overwhelmed me to the point I had a physical reaction.
No matter what I did, I could never bring them back.
I did the hand motion thing I was doing when Aniello had been watching me in bed without me knowing. My hands fluttered, or maybe they were doing more jazz moves, to remind myself that I had to let go.
Life was leading me in a new direction.
It would have been nice to have the past direct my steps, though. How could I learn from my mistakes if they were all buried?
The guard, Christopher, opened the door for me. He grinned, returning the hand gesture, probably thinking it was a new way to say hello. If mine looked anything like his, definitely jazz hands. He’d been a little friendlier to me since he had a date with Cilla. Though she told me nothing happened and that she wasn’t seeing him again.
She didn’t say as much, but I knew she’d used him as a pawn in her game. Ever since their “date,” she was happier than usual, which made no sense if she was still getting married.
I wondered if she’d done it to make Joey jealous, giving him a glimpse of their future, and something started up between them again. I had no clue if it ever truly died. It had only been stifled by the news that Joey’s marriage would be arranged, too, and to Cilla’s cousin.
The girl on my mind was still at work, or wherever she was, and Bambina was waiting at the door for me after I opened it.
“Bambina!” I said with an Italian accent that reminded me of Aniello’s. “You want to go for a walk?” I leaned down to scoop up her wriggling body.
Her tail wagged so hard it slapped me on the back.Walk,leash,treat, andridewere four of her favorite words. Especially when I was talking to her like she was a baby.
“Come on! Let’s go get your leash!”
After hugging her tight to me, letting her know how much I’d missed her during the day, I stopped short when I took in the condo. Roses. Dozens and dozens of them. On every surface. These were a different color. Red instead of burgundy.
The color of my dress.
The color of passion.
The color Aniello painted my world.
