Page 67
She gasps as if just remembering something. “Oh, my gosh! What happened with you and David?”
I release a heavy sigh and allow myself to fall back and sink into the plush ottoman. “When we got back, he took me on an official date, it was perfect.”
She lays down next to me, like we’re just two girls chatting at a slumber party. “Until you had to leave?”
“Exactly.” I stare up at the ceiling that’s painted in a Leonardo da Vinci style with clouds and cherubs. “I wanted to try long distance, and he didn’t think it would work… so we’re taking a break to think about things.”
She groans. “Like a Ross and Rachel break?”
I laugh. “That’s exactly what I asked him. He assured me it wasn’t a Ross and Rachel break. Just some time apart so we can really think about us.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Why doesn’t he just travel with you?”
“He’s a creature of comfort… he loves his house and his work. He’s also really close with his family.” A small smile tugs at one corner of my lips, remembering the family barbecue. “Their family gets together every Sunday for dinner.”
Hannah gives me puppy-dog eyes. “Stop it, that’s adorable.” She sits up on the ottoman, looking thoughtful. “David’s a smart man. If he wants to be with you, he’ll figure out a way to make this work.”
“I really hope so,” I say with a dreamy sigh, wondering for the millionth time if I should've stayed in Kansas to be with him.
Propping myself up on both elbows, I narrow my eyes at her. “But enough about me… how about you leaving out the detail that you’re married to the heir of a hotel empire?”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Technically, Matteo is the ‘heir’” She says heir in air quotes. “Since he’s the oldest. Then Anthony, then Salvador.”
She sits all the way up and folds one leg up under herself. “Also, it doesn’t really come up in casual conversation.”
“True,” I concede. “I thought you guys lived in Northern California?”
She grimaces. “We do, part of the time. That’s our winter home. Anthony travels a lot for Monaco business. I go with him most of the time… but now that there’s a baby on the way…”
I squeal and pull her into another hug. “A Machu Picchu baby!”
“Thank goodness you shared a tent with David instead of me.” She giggles.
We hear a tap on the door and know that’s our cue to unlock the door. Hannah stands up from the ottoman and smothers her sleek blonde hair down and slides her heels back on then unlocks the door.
A middle-aged woman in a short, black dress shoves her way past us, lecturing us in Italian. Hannah smiles at her and says something back to her in perfect Italian but the woman remains angry.
“Yikes,” Hannah mutters under her breath as she closes the door behind us.
I follow her back to the terrace and grab another drink. Hannah asks the waiter for water, being newly pregnant and all.
“So what exactly does Anthony do?” I ask in a hushed voice.
“He oversees the Napa Valley and San Francisco locations.” She spots her husband across the terrace and the moment he sees her his whole face lights up.
I was never one of those little girls who dreamt of her wedding. All I ever wanted was to travel the world and let my free spirit run rampant. And I still want that… but what do you do when your soul wants to sail and your heart wants to be anchored to another person? Someone to experience all of this adventure with me. Disney really needs to make a Moana 2, I need answers.
There’s this longing in my heart for David to be here, looking at me the way Anthony looks at Hannah.
If David doesn’t want to give this a chance, will I ever feel this way about another man? In twenty-eight years, David is the only one who made my heart feel like it might fly right out of my chest.
Salvador is standing next to Anthony and they both walk toward us. Well, Anthony walks… Salvador swaggers. He’s the epitome of smooth. I nearly laugh out loud when I realize that Salvador Vergara is the Italian Brooks Windell.
As Salvador and Anthony draw closer to us, Salvador smiles then holds his hand out to me once he’s right in front of me. “How about a dance?”
I have to withhold a laugh at how easy this must usually be for him. But not only does he look much younger than me, probably Lily’s age, but sexy and flirtatious aren’t my type. I’m into more serious, calculated sexiness… dark-rimmed glasses and a brain that works like a calculator helps too.
“Sure,” I say with a smile, placing my hand in his and allowing him to guide me off to the side of the terrace where the dance floor is located.
