Bit presumptuous.
Am I wrong, sweetheart?
The three dots were visible for a while before she finally responded.No comment.
Good. I want you to meet someone.
Who?
The woman I’ve been sleeping with for the last four years.
Sorry, what???
I chuckled to myself before I took a picture of Medusa as she lay across my thigh.
Oh my god, you have a dog??? Oh, she’s so cute. I already love her.
Well, not gonna lie, you’re going to be a tough sell for her.
Yeah, I can totally see why.
I picked her up in my Range Rover, which was stocked with guns, just out of sight so she didn’t have a clue. If you lifted the floor panel in the back, five loaded shotguns were on racks beneath. A handgun was stashed both underneath my seat and hers. And if she checked the glove compartment, she wouldn’t like what she found.
She wore this little dark-blue dress with a ton of boobage ...and damn.
I parked my car wherever the fuck I wanted, then I took her hand, and we walked inside together. I didn’t have reservations, but that wasn’t an issue when I was friends with the owner. They whipped up a table for me, and the two of us were seated where there’d been open space just a moment ago.
“So what’s her name?”
“Medusa.”
“Whoa, that’s quite the name. Is she a sea monster?”
“She’s definitely a monster,” I said with a grin. “She’s a police dog. Met her at work one day, but you know, it was love at first sight, so I took her home.”
“Aww, that’s cute. How old is she?”
“Four.”
“Good, she’s still young. Why didn’t you mention her before?”
I shrugged. “Didn’t come up.”
“I can’t believe you went a week without her in Taormina.”
“I mean, I missed her, but she’s well taken care of. She still has a family at the house when I’m not around. She sleeps with my butler, Elio, when I’m out. Everyone loves her. She’s a great estate dog.”
She didn’t react to the wordsbutlerorestate, as if she’d already assumed I was wealthy. But she probably didn’t understand exactlyhowwealthy I was. “How have you been?” It’d been a couple days since we talked. I gave her some space after the wholeI’m falling in love with youthing.
“Kinda overbooked myself with shoots,” she said with a quiet chuckle. “So I’m working a lot, which is good.”
“Why is that good?”
“I feel better when I’m busy. My mind doesn’t linger in places it shouldn’t.”
Was she referring to Enzo? Did that loser really still have space in her beautiful head? I almost asked, but I didn’t want to ruin the night by being combative.
“I hope one day I’ll have a studio and an assistant ... and work will be less chaotic.”
