Page 12 of Loss and Damages

“Oh, no.” That’s not what Leo and I did.

He drove out and we painted and we talked and he dozed in my bed until he roused himself enough to go home.

We never went to the movies. Occasionally I ordered pizza, and sometimes we went to a restaurant in town, but that’s the closest thing we’d ever come to being on a date.

“I didn’t think of it as seeing each other, either. You know.”

He frowns. I guess he doesn’t know. “You were happy with that?”

It’s my turn to frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You didn’t ask to go into the city to see a play? You didn’t want him to take you shopping?”

I understand what he’s getting at, and I’m pissed.

“Leo came here. To get out of the city. He enjoyed the peace and quiet. Why would I ask him to take me shopping? I have family who lives in St. Charlotte, Mr. Milano. I shop with my sister-in-law when I have an afternoon free. I didn’t need or want to do that kind of thing with him. ”

Calling me a gold digger while drinking my wine. Classy.

“He was going to ask you to go to a fundraiser benefitting the homeless. Did he?”

“Yes. He talked about it, but I hadn’t accepted. I wasn’t sure if it was something I wanted to attend.”

“Why not?”

I drink more wine to soften the rough edges of our conversation. “You don’t understand. That’s not the kind of relationship we had. He should’ve asked a woman from the city. Someone who would have fit in.”

“But he wanted to go with you.”

“There was no reason for it.”

Dominic grunts in frustration. “He never brought a date to anything like that. If he supported a cause, he did it alone. That he even mentioned he might bring you tells me he thought very highly of you, and I have no doubt that no matter how casual you think your relationship was, he had feelings for you.”

“I cared about him, too.”

I’m done. I’m tired and talking about Leo hurts. Holding my wineglass, I stand from the rocking chair and step past him. “It’s been a long day. I need...” I don’t know what I need, but it’s not sitting on my porch talking to Dominic Milano.

He catches my hand, and it looks so tiny in his, our fingers tangled together.

I stiffen.

Something ominous, dangerous, burns down my back, mingling with the pain Leo’s absence caused that never eases, and I know he feels it too, his black eyes blazing hot like coal.

I can’t break the connection, and I stand frozen on the porch, a bee flying around my wineglass, intrigued by the sweet scent.

No other man on this earth could be further away from what I need.

“Mr. Milano.” His name comes out in a whisper, almost a plea. Let me go. No, don’t. Come inside and let’s drown our pain with more than wine.

“My name is Dominic.”

“Dominic. What do you want?”

“Come to the benefit with me Friday night.”

“Why?”

“Miss Ferrell. Jemma. Can I tell you the truth?”

I can’t tear my gaze away from his, and I don’t dare blink. “What?”

“You’re all I have left of my brother. I don’t want to let you go.”

“What’s in it for me?”

That’s enough to break the spell. I’d turned into the woman he thought me to be. His eyes grow cold, and he drops my hand, freeing me of his hold.

“Whatever you want.”

What I want is to rush into my cottage now that he’s let me go, but I can’t. I hurt him, and I didn’t mean to. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I... Leo’s gone. Spending time with me won’t bring him back.”

He sets his wineglass next to the bowl of untouched popcorn, and he leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees, and blows out a breath. “I know. I know it, but I thought, if we could, I don’t know. Talk about him, maybe share a story or two, that it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“You don’t need me. You need a therapist.”

He scoffs. “Yeah. Can you imagine the press getting a hold of that? Do you think a shrink wouldn’t sell me out?”

A billionaire playboy intent on evicting hundreds of families out of their homes? I’m sure for the right price any therapist would spill all of Dominic’s secrets.

“Why do you think I won’t do the same?”

“Because Leo loved you. He would never have given his heart to a woman who didn’t deserve it.”

Leo loved me ? Dominic clearly has no idea what Leo’s and my relationship was like and now he’s spinning dreams and, God.

Maybe we do need to have an honest conversation about what Leo meant to us and what we meant to him because he sure as hell never told me he loved me and I doubt very much he told his brother, a brother he rarely spoke to.

Reluctantly, I say, “If you want, you can come back tomorrow night. My shop closes at seven. I’ll cook dinner.”

Dominic doesn’t smile or thank me for caving in.

He stands and cups my cheek in his palm. “I see what he saw in you, Jemma.”

I tell him the truth. “And I see what he saw in you.”

He flinches.

“Goodnight, Mr. Milano.”

“Goodnight, Miss Ferrell.”

He walks stiffly down the gravel path toward the road and disappears around the corner of the gallery.

I don’t know what Dominic Milano wants from me, but he’ll be quick to find out that I don’t have much to give.