“What’s this for?” I ask.
“It’ll be windy on the freeway, bella. It’s for your hair, if you want it.”
“Thanks, that’s thoughtful.” I tie it in place. It won’t be perfect, but I don’t mind getting a little messy on the drive.
“Have you been to Mirarosa before?” Damiano raises his voice to be heard over the sounds of the road.
“Once. I really enjoyed it—the coastline is beautiful, and it has great hiking.” I don’t mention that Mirarosa is where Kyle and I went on our honeymoon. We had almost no money and no time for a vacation, so we rented a rundown beach cabin for three nights. We subsisted on peanut butter sandwiches and the childlike belief that we’d live forever.
Damiano takes my hand in his. “There’s a trail behind the beach house. It leads to a beautiful vista. I will take you there tonight so we can watch the sunset.”
“Sounds great.”
The drive is gorgeous, and Damiano is an excellent road trip companion. He packed drinks and snacks, and a blanket in case I get chilly. I can’t believe I’m doing this—a spontaneous trip to Mirarosa. Damiano texted me last night, asking if I could get away with him for a couple of nights. I nearly said no, but I want to be spontaneous. I want to take advantage of my new life.
Everything seems to be moving fast with him, but it feels like who he is. He’s someone who knows what he wants, and goes for it. And for some crazy reason…he wants me.
I want him, too. It isn’t just the sexy things he does, either. Even when his attention is focused on me, he’s considerate of other people. He was immensely polite to our server at Chez Michel last week. Huge green flag, in my experience.
And while I can’t ignore the fact that he had his employees watching me, I hate to think about what might have happened if they weren’t there that night.
“So, what are we celebrating, anyway?” I ask before taking a bite of red licorice.
“The successful completion of a job.” He shoots me a carefree grin. “Seth thought the team would be done by Sunday, but they exceeded our expectations. The client is pleased.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Congrats!”
“Thank you, bella.” He lifts my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’m grateful you were free this weekend to celebrate with me.”
I grin. I’m free every weekend. No more catering. Yesterday, Glinda left me a voicemail, asking if I would come back to work. Apparently she’s having a hard time filling shifts now that Jaclyn can’t manipulate me into covering for her. In her voicemail, Glinda admitted she had known things weren’t fair, but she promised to “have my back” going forward.
Doubtful. If she knew all along I was being manipulated and she did nothing about it, then she isn’t the kind of boss I want.
Maybe I don’t want any boss at all.
I close my eyes and lean my head back, daydreaming about my future, what I want it to look like. I can’t picture any details yet, but I know I want to be independent. I’ve spent years either following someone else’s dreams and expectations, or simply struggling to get by.
No more. Never again.
The car slows to a stop, waking me.
“We’re here, bella.” Damiano lightly touches my shoulder.
“Hey. Sorry I fell asleep.”
Brushing a kiss on my cheek, he says, “No problem. You looked so beautiful and peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”
I blush and check out my surroundings. It’s late afternoon, and the house overlooks the highway. Beyond that, the ocean stretches to the horizon. The house itself is much larger than I expected, with two stories and a deck that looks like it must extend around to the ocean-facing side. Although there’s a wide garage door, Damiano has parked in the driveway. He pushes a button so the car’s roof fits back into place.
“What do you think?” Damiano asks.
“I think it’s amazing.” In my mind, I had pictured Kyle’s and my squat little beach cabin, with its roof that leaked when it rained. I should have known someone like Damiano would have a much bigger house. “It’s perfect.”
“Let’s go inside.”
He takes my hand and leads me up to the patio. After unlocking the door, he swings it open and steps aside so I can go in first.
I take one step inside and gasp in fear. There’s someone here, sitting on a wide couch overlooking the ocean. “Damiano?—”
