As much as I hated letting her go, I truly wanted the best for her. Until today…
I had so many questions. What had she been doing since graduation? Why wasn’t she working for a high-profile designer? Why didn’t she open an interior design firm?
Well, for one, she didn’t have money for the latter. Had we stayed together, I would have been the sole investor in her business.
All she talked about the year and a half we were together was opening her own business. She was so determined and excited. She had a solid plan. She had all the talent and drive to be successful.
None of this made sense.
I also wanted to know if she’d been with anyone else. Not that it was any of my business, just something I needed to know.
Rubbing the tips of my fingers on a spot near my heart, I pictured her the last time I saw her. So beautiful and… so heartbroken.
“Leave her alone,” I growled to myself. “Exit out of the website and move the fuck on.”
Shaking my head, I went back to the networking site to make sure I had the right Isla Martin. There wasn’t a picture, just initialsIM.The previous work history and education matchedmyIsla. Except, no graduation date. Wouldn’t it be listed if she had completed her degree?
Isla had had one year left when she walked out of my life.So why wasn’t it listed? And why had she moved to the Bay Area of all places?
I stared at the monitor, trying to piece it together.
What the hell?The start date at the bistro was two months after the night she walked out of my life.
Drumming my fingers on the arm of my executive chair, I eyed my desk phone. My curiosity was getting the better of me. What happened to Isla? She couldn’t have run out of money to pay her last year. A week after we ended, I’d deposited enough money into her bank account to pay for everything she could possibly need and then some.
Maybe she dropped out. Fuck, I’d feel terrible if she didn’t graduate because of me, too brokenhearted to function without me.
Part of the reason I hadn’t contacted her was because I knew she’d land on her feet. Isla Martin was strong and resilient. She had dreams and goals, hence breaking up with me because I wouldn’t marry her.
I rocked in my chair, wholly dumbfounded. Why would she work in a bistro when she had half a million dollars in her bank account? She wasn’t the type of person to blow it all in Vegas. She was way too responsible to squander that kind of money just to spite me.
But… She was the kind of person who wouldn’t spend a penny I’d given her.
“Goddammit! That had to be it!” I shouted at my screen. “She would reduce herself to poverty before she’d let me help her.”
Now, I needed to see her working in a restaurant with my own eyes. I honestly couldn’t imagine my beautiful, intelligent and talented girl as a waitress.
Without giving it another thought, I pushed the intercom button. “Millie, clear my schedule and reserve the jet.”
“When and where are you traveling to, Mr. Remotti? Do you have a return date?”
“Ten. SFO. No return date.”
There was a long pause. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” I relaxed in my seat and drummed my fingers on my desk.
A bistro… That wasn’t right. Not right at all.
For the last several months, I’d felt something was off. I had ignored the weird feelings in my stomach, but it had intensified the last several weeks. I couldn’t figure out what was happening to me. I’d been doing okay… sort of.
I’d attributed my unease to the slow recovery of the drama-filled year my family and I had been through.
My younger sister, Rosa, had been missing for several months and it had been a dark time in the mansion. Padre had believed the worst, that we’d never see her again.
Admittedly, after six months of searching, my hope of recovering her in one piece had started to dwindle, too. It’d been during that time that I’d felt great relief for Isla leaving me. No question I missed her every damn day, but if she’d stayed with me and my crime family, she could have faced a similar situation like my sister.
Isla leaving had been a blessing in disguise… for her, anyway.
