Stella
“I’d heard you were married, too, but I just thought it was a…stupid rumor.”I mimicked the chocolate maker’s voice, except I mocked it, making it whiny. I brought my lipstick down and looked in the mirror.
Again.
I couldn’t resist.
“Congrats to you both! Hope you have a wonderful trip home, Matteo. Good seeing you.”I switched to my real voice.“Yeah, congrats to you both,my ass.” What a fucking liar. She was probably sobbing into her pastries because she’d lost him.
Fucking wimpette.
Okay, I knew wimpette wasn’t a real word, not in English, but it suited a woman better. Wimp seemed more suited for a man.
And okay, I knew that was harsh on her, and I’d do the same thing if I ever lost him, but still. I felt like I had the right to be mean to her when she was probably thinking mean thoughts about me too. She was probably dreaming of the day when one of the townspeople rushed into her shop to tell her the glorious news.
Did you hear? Matteo left that chick—the one he introduced as his wife. He should have just called her his first wife.And then the chocolate maker would evil laugh.Muahahahaha.
And, yeah, okay, maybe I was going a little mad, but I still felt the truth in some of the thoughts in my head.
The Fausti men were not ordinary men. They almost seemed built to love a woman, love a woman in a way that made a woman feel like a woman, bringing out the damsel in distress in her while also making her the fierce heroine of the entire story, so there was nothing ordinary about them. And that kind of draw wasn’t easy to let go of. When the chocolate wimpette had pulled Matteo in, she’d sunk her claws in him, but it seemed like she did that years ago—when she’d been his first and much older than him.
The thought made me feel hot, and it felt like fire was going to blow out of my mouth and ears. Maybe cause enough smoke to send the detectors off. I was sure the thought of my husband being with a beautiful woman, and it making me jealous was normal, but the issue was…it was haunting me. Making me feel like he’d done wrong to me when he didn’t even know me. But it was like he’d cheated on the thought of me.
I sighed and set my purse over my shoulder, heading back out to the restaurant where the women were waiting. At Scarlett’s suggestion, we’d all gotten up and gone to church, and after, she thought it might be nice for just the women to go out to brunch at Brûler. We had to take a river road to get to the place, and the restaurant faced the water. Scarlett had called it the Cane River.
The restaurant itself was quaint with what seemed like French roots. The entire place was mostly brick with wrought-iron details. Even gas lamps. The food was phenomenal, even though I hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. The oysters were doable for me and not so hard to get down.
Matteo had told me the restaurant was going to close at some point, but Brando invested in properties and businesses he felt had potential, and he’d bought the restaurant for Scarlett. He didn’t want to see her favorite restaurant in town closed for good.
I opened the door to the bathroom and rushed out. “Eh!” I bounced back after I seemed to hit a wall.
Mariano gave me a half smile, so like Matteo’s, after he caught me by the arms. “Going too fast for your own good, lil’ Star.”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. “I didn’t want one of the many soldiers surrounding this place to think I’d been abducted and come in with guns hot.”
He laughed. “You have quite the imagination.”
“Is it far from the truth?”
“Not at all.”
“Didn’t think so, brother.”
He set his hand over his heart, like the word brother meant something to him. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but we all loved you right away because Matteo did. We give each other shit sometimes, but Matteo is smart. His intuition is rarely ever wrong. The Fausti leader is strong in that one. And he wouldn’t have fell so easily for you if it wasn’t what his heart ordered him to do.” He growled. “You awoke the mighty lion in him. It’s an important thing in our family.”
“And you?” I smiled, and it felt like my face was made of paint and had cracked. Smiling was the hardest thing for me to do, because before, it was true. It didn’t feel true lately. “Has a woman ever made you fall?”
“Ahh,” he breathed out. “Stumble, yeah, but fall?” He grinned at me and then disappeared behind the door to the men’s restroom.
“Casanova Prince is the perfect title for him,” I mumbled to myself as I walked to the table where all the women were finishing dessert. I could barely stand to look at it. Anything that sweet made me think of celebrating, and I just couldn’t do it.
The brunch was just for the women and the soldiers who were on duty, but chairs had been brought out, and all our men were sitting around the table. Except for Matteo, who, it seemed, had been walking toward the bathroom. Our eyes met, and when I was close enough, he pulled me close.
“You didn’t want dessert?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I had oysters. They filled me up.”
“Oysters, ah?”
