Page 32 of Loss and Damages

Jemma

After going back to bed and crying myself to sleep, I turned the TV on while I made coffee and ate a bowl of cereal. I almost threw it up too, when the news bulletin came on, the bomb squad and their German shepherds searching the Milano Management and Development building.

I crumpled up the note he left laying on the breakfast bar and threw it in the garbage.

It was sitting on top of old coffee grounds for all of two seconds before I smoothed the paper out and saved his number in my phone.

I hadn’t wanted to, but Dominic Milano doesn’t give his number to just anyone and I didn’t want to literally throw it away.

I was assisting two early-morning customers when he texted, offering to chat during my lunch break, and I debated for several minutes whether to message him back.

I was hurt, angry he left in the middle of the night after so many discussions about Leo doing the same.

He knew it worried me that Leo never stayed, tired and melancholy, driving alone to the city, yet he couldn’t be bothered to spend an extra four hours in my bed to avoid doing the same.

I put my phone away, the text unanswered.

For the rest of the day I tried not to be needy and text him back, tried to give myself space so I wouldn’t grovel.

Tara called the gallery’s landline and asked if I’d heard from him.

I lied and said no. I didn’t want to go into details about how he slept with me and then cut and run.

She’d tell my brother, and Jeremy already hates I went to the homeless benefit with him.

The news of the sale won’t help Dominic’s cause, and even my parents who are usually easygoing won’t approve of our budding relationship.

Dominic could have all the money in the world, but if he doesn’t have a good heart, my parents won’t want us together.

I disconnect before Dominic can talk me into anything and pour a large glass of wine. I down most of it. I told him I love him. Okay, not that blatant, but I put it out there further than it had been. If he’d just woken up in my bed, I would have given him my heart then and there.

Maybe he doesn’t want it.

But that’s not what it sounded like when we spoke.

It was cute that Dominic Milano, one of the richest men in the United States, was jealous enough to ask if I have a date tonight.

I stifle a smile. I’m not glad he’s sitting somewhere in the city wondering what I’m doing, but I think it’s a fair amount of payback for letting me wake up alone.

I pour more wine and bring the glass into the bathroom to sip on while I shower the day’s grime off me. I need the liquid courage because it’s not my family business that I’m busy with tonight, but his.

I’m meeting Dominic’s mother at the penthouse she shares with his father.

I’m more than a little apprehensive about meeting on her turf, but it was the only choice she gave me when I called and asked if she could spare an hour of her time.

I thought getting her number would be difficult, and I was surprised her penthouse’s landline was listed with directory assistance.

All I had to do was identify myself to the housekeeper who answered the phone, and she transferred me to Athena without even putting me on hold to see if she was available to talk.

It was easy.

Too easy.

She sounded intrigued I had the guts to call her, but I’m not doing it for myself. I want to find out the rest of the story, and I can’t leave it alone until I do.

I dry off, and at a loss, stand in front of my closet.

What do you wear to meet the wife of a land development tycoon?

Raphael Milano is worth billions of dollars, just like his son.

Athena’s gorgeous and her aura of a heartbroken woman drives men to her in flocks.

From what the news says, her husband has a mistress he prefers, but I don’t know if Athena sees anyone on the side.

Time is running out if I don’t want to be late, and I choose a blue and white maxi dress and twist my wet hair into a bun.

I add hoop earrings and reapply my makeup using a light hand.

It’s hot, and the air conditioning in my car doesn’t work very well.

I don’t need to look like a melting mess when I see Dominic’s mother again.

I wonder what she’d say if I told her I was falling in love with her son.

I wonder if she’ll be able to see it on my face.

On the drive into the city, I try to calm my nerves and blast Taylor Swift’s newest album all the way. It’s not so much I’m seeing Athena again, it’s that her power play is working and I’d feel a lot better if she’d said we could meet in a public place.

There’s no point in worrying about it. I’m not canceling.

She assumed I know what building she lives in, and once I reach the city limit, type the address into my phone’s GPS.

That part of the city is too upscale, and when Tara and I hang out, we stay close to her building or go to a shopping mall on the south side.

There’s not one shop in that area we can afford, and the apartments, even the ones not located in Athena’s building, cost thousands of dollars a month in rent.

There’s a parking ramp a couple blocks away that has half price parking after five, and I grab a spot on the second level. The air is sticky with humidity and traffic clogs the street. An asshole lays on his car horn and the loud shriek frays at my already tattered nerves.

A sharply dressed doorman opens the door for me, tipping his hat, and I step into the lobby.

The large, elegant space is cool, and I inhale a calming breath as I approach the concierge.

I give him credit for not glaring at me and asking if I’m lost. It’s pretty obvious I don’t belong here.

I tell him my name and that I have an appointment to see Athena Milano.

He nods, calls up to her penthouse, and announces my arrival.

“She says she’s available and expecting you.

The elevator is located behind the fountain. ”

“Thank you.”

I press P for penthouse, not at all sure if that’s correct.

God. Is this the kind of life I’m in for if Dominic and I get together? Date? Whatever it is we’re doing? Suddenly, I crave the peace and quiet of Hollow Lake, and I want nothing more than to put on some music in my workshop and start on a new piece.

The elevator ride lasts forever, and I stand there, twisting my fingers as the numbers click by.

Finally the lift stops and the doors glide open revealing a luxurious foyer.

The floor is made of black marble and stark paintings that are probably worth hundreds of thousands of dollars adorn otherwise blank eggshell-white walls.

Tentatively, I step inside the penthouse. I don’t know what to do now.

“Jemma! I’m so glad you called,” Athena says, walking from around a corner dressed in a black and white housecoat that could serve as a dress at a casual restaurant.

“I’ve been looking forward to our visit.

” She holds her hands out to me, gold rings sparkling on her fingers, and I grasp them.

Leaning toward me, she gives me air kisses on both cheeks that I awkwardly return.

“You have?”

“Of course. I miss Leo very much. When you called and said you wanted to speak with me, it would have been impossible to turn you away. I hope you always want to chat now and then. He loved you, and that is a bond I do not wish to break.”

“I appreciate your time.”

She squeezes my hands. “No need to be so formal! Had things turned out differently, perhaps I would have been your mother-in-law. I think we would have gotten along quite well.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Amused, Athena smiles. “You’re not convinced. Very well. We are a bit intimidating. Come, I’ve set up coffee and dessert in the library. Unless you’d like a glass of wine, but I assumed you’d drive yourself into the city.”

“No, coffee’s fine. Thank you, Mrs. Milano.”

“Athena, please. Mrs. Milano turns me into an old crone.”

I relax, and tension seeps out of my muscles. “You definitely don’t look old.”

“We are only as old as we feel, and I admit, Leo’s death has taken its toll on me. I miss him, Jemma. I didn’t see him often. He gave that honor to you, but I don’t hate you for it. Please, sit.”

The library is an airy room featuring a black baby grand piano, and the walls are made of bookshelves that hold more than books.

The seating arrangement she guides me to consists of a pair of beautiful loveseats and a glass coffee table near floor- to-ceiling windows that capture the city in all its sun-drenched, splendid glory.

“I hope you never hate me for anything,” I say, sinking onto a seafoam green brocade loveseat. I don’t have to imagine what a woman like Athena Milano could do to a person’s life. Dominic is a prime example.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” From a gleaming silver pot that has an elegant spout, she pours coffee into a cup that’s sitting on a matching saucer and passes it to me.

I juggle the cup and saucer and carefully add cream.

My cheeks heat when I think of my old coffeemaker and mugs I bought at the café in Hollow Lake.

How primitive I must have seemed to Dominic. Quaint.

My entire cottage could fit into this library.

Why would Dominic choose me when there are so many other women better suited to live this lifestyle?

Athena leans back holding her own coffee cup and her dark brown eyes regard me over the rim. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

“At the fundraiser, you told me the circumstances of Dominic’s conception. I want to hear about Leo’s. Seven years were between their births.”

She pauses, tilting her head. “You’ve been spending time with him.”