Page 36 of Dirty Hearts
“I thought we could get pizza,” she bubbled, looking from me to Claudius.
“No, we’re going out,” I answered.
“Oh, when will you be back? Max needs a walk, and I’m seeing Jeff tonight.”
Max was our golden retriever. I wasn’t sure who Jeff was.
Claudius heaved me over his shoulder cave-man style.
“Sorry, Marissa, I haven’t seen my woman in eight weeks,” Claudius told her in that authoritative way I liked. “Can’t say when she’ll be back, but looks like either you or Jeff will be walking Max. Bye.”
The look on Marissa’s face was classic. She wasn’t impressed, but there was something else that lurked in her eyes.
Something I couldn’t worry myself over right now because I was too loved up to figure it out.
* * *
A year later …
I’d sat on my decision for a whole week.
Either I was going to Europe or not.
My family knew I got accepted for the internship at the Chez La Meire. A world-renowned European chain of restaurants.
As far as they knew, I was packed and ready to go.
But… I hadn’t packed. I hadn’t packed anything yet because I wasn’t sure if I was going.
Pa was so proud. He rose the bar high for anyone who worked at the restaurant and made no exceptions. To him I was the golden applicant. Not just someone he wanted to work with, but someone he wanted to give the restaurant to.
It was always in the cards for me, but I worked hard to earn it. I got my degree in the culinary arts and business management, graduated at the top of my class, and now I was here.
Here with the chance to go to Europe for a whole year. What a dream. I should have been bouncing off the walls with excitement. Especially with only two days left to go.
So, what was my problem?
I was in love. It was simple. I was in love with a man who might be wrong for me because of his links to the Rossi crime family, but hell, I was in love.
It wasn’t even like it was some secret. Everyone knew we were together.
For me, he was more important than Europe, and I wrestled with the decision to go because I didn’t want to leave him for a whole year. This would be different to what we’d gotten used to when I was at college.
I’d been away for the winter semester, spring, and summer, and we’d survived that. I saw him all the months in between, and damn, did I know he was serious about me when he’d just suddenly pitched up at my dorm room with a bunch of yellow roses on Valentine’s Day.
He tried, and I tried. We spoke every day, and it worked because we made it work.
This, however, would be what real long distance was like. Another time zone, another country, miles apart.
He was banking on me being here.
I’d been lying on my bed looking up at the swirly patterns on the plaster ceiling.
A knock sounded at my door, and Marissa came in. She was wearing a dress so tight it molded to her breasts, and I thought they were going to pop out. The dark smoky-eye makeup she wore gave her that sultry look, and the devil-red heels screamed of sex.
I didn’t judge her, because I wished I could be like that. Sometimes.
“What are you doing, and what is that you’re wearing?” She smirked and pointed to my fluffy pink pajamas with a unicorn on the front.
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