Page 7 of Love or Leave (Mapleton #4)

six

A t the sound of muffled voices in the hallway growing louder, Antonio looked up from the impossible Scrabble game he was playing on his phone.

Cara.

He breathed a sigh of both relief and anxiety as he stood from the edge of his bed and went to answer the door. He'd been having mixed feelings about dragging her into his personal nightmare, but he couldn't stand the alternative.

Before she knocked, he swung the door open and was surprised to find her a few feet away, her back to him. Maybe she realized how foolish this was and was ready to pull the plug. It was probably for the best.

Suddenly, she spun around to face him, and his brain melted.

She was wearing a short, fitted black dress, with black high heels and a dark wool coat that came to her knees. She'd curled her dark short hair and put on sparkly earrings. But what stood out the most was her full, bright red lips.

He stared at her for a moment, his heart beating a drum, then opened his mouth, but forced it closed, stopping himself from speaking the first thought that came to his mind. Max wouldn't have approved.

He blinked up from her lips to the rest of her face, then stopped again.

She looked terrified.

Her big brown eyes had doubled, and her gaze was flitting around, unsure where to land.

"You okay?"

She shook her head and walked toward him without slowing down. He held open the door and let her barge past, then followed her into his apartment as she collapsed onto his couch/bed.

"I'm feeling overwhelmed," she said. "And a girl in the hall just told me not to trust you."

Antonio glanced back at the door before his shoulders caved. "Sara."

"What's that all about?" Cara asked, pulling her coat away from her neck as if she couldn't breathe.

"She doesn't really like me."

"No shit. Why?"

He winced. "I met her when I moved in here about six months ago, and we dated, but…"

An enormous amount of shame blocked the words from coming out.

Lucky for him, Cara was tipping toward a panic attack and hadn't noticed that he stopped speaking.

She fidgeted with a charm dangling from her bracelet as her eyes darted around the room. "Is your family going to ask me things?"

His gaze scanned her body, from her gorgeous red lips down her tight dress and endless pale legs. There wasn't a chance he was going to walk in and not draw everyone's curiosity. Not only because Cara was gorgeous but also because his family had only ever seen him with Fran.

And they were the nosiest bunch of people on earth. Plus, he was sure his mother was going to have a coronary.

But that didn't seem like helpful information to share at the moment.

"Here," he said, handing her his phone.

She took it in her shaking hand and looked down. "Scrabble?"

"It'll calm your anxiety."

She stared at the Scrabble board, and her gaze flicked around the screen.

He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her and immediately regretted how close he’d positioned himself to her. From his vantage point he could see her chest heaving with laboured breaths. "Maybe we shouldn't do this—"

"No," she said. "I'm always nervous before things like this. I'll be better after we walk in."

Antonio inspected her, but she didn't notice. Her eyes seemed to be less wide, her shoulders less strained. "I'll say I'm on call so we can bail if it's too much," he said.

Maria was the only one who would know that's not true, but she wouldn't say anything.

Cara nodded as she clicked a few buttons on the screen and stood. She handed him back his phone as the winning jingle played.

"Did you win?"

She gave a half smile and a cocky brow. "Of course."

"Already?"

No way.

He took the phone from her and stared at the game board in disbelief. He had the worst luck in that game, all z's and f's and g's and q's with no u's.

"How did you do it?"

"Well, you had a great hand," she said. "I saw you were saving the highest scoring letters to win at the end."

His thoughts scrambled and a laugh escaped him. "Uh… yeah," he said, shaking his head. "That's exactly what I was doing."

She laughed. "So you do suck. I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"I didn't think I was that bad," he said, slipping his phone in his pocket. He held her gaze, searching her brilliant eyes for a moment longer than he should have before turning and heading for the door. "What word did you play?"

She followed him and stepped through the doorway into the hall. "Freezing. Three hundred and twenty-four points."

"Holy shit," he said, locking the door behind him and starting down the hall with her. His face split into a grin he couldn’t control. "I didn't even know the points went that high."

"I'm not surprised," she said with a snicker. "What with all the cat's and cow's you played."

He burst into a laugh. "I guess what you lack in golf you make up for in Scrabble?"

She shrugged as he pulled open the door to the parking lot. "Scrabble's never been a favourite, but I've always loved games. Can we talk about tonight?"

He glanced at her with a smile, loving how quick her mind was. "I'd rather talk about—"

You.

He immediately killed the thought and gave his head a shake, reminding himself that the night was not a get-to-know-you type of situation. She was only there to stop him from looking so pathetic in front of everyone he knew. He wasn't supposed to want to know about her.

He forced himself to focus on the goal of the evening—Fran.

"Sure," he said as they crossed the parking lot toward his car. "What do you want to know?"

"What's your ex-wife's name?"

"Francesca," he said, unlocking the car and opening the door for her. "Goes by Fran."

"How long ago did you break up?"

"I left in February. Valentines Day, actually."

Cara's eyes went wide as she sat in the car. "You ended your marriage on Valentine’s Day?"

" She ended our marriage on Valentine's Day," he said, then closed the door and walked around to the driver's side.

"Why?" Cara asked once he was sitting down.

Antonio looked over at Cara before putting the car in drive and exiting the parking lot. "You ask a lot of questions."

"And you are very selective about which ones you answer."

He frowned as he drove down the street, but he didn't respond.

"Is anyone going to hate me or yell at me or call me a home-wrecking whore?" she asked.

He chuckled. "That's what you're worried about?"

Cara nodded.

"No," he said. "I'm sure it's going to be awkward, and my mother won't be happy about any of it, but no one will hate you and they certainly won't yell."

Cara took her bracelet in her hand and began fidgeting again. "Maybe we should have a code word, in case things get to be too much."

Antonio smiled. "Okay," he said. "How about freezing?"

"Perfect," Cara said, sagging a little in relief. "Easy enough to use in a sentence but doesn't come up too often to be confused with regular conversation and has multiple synonyms to avoid using it if you have to."

Antonio nodded, happy that she seemed more relaxed. He was pretty sure her anxiety was more about the unknown and not having a plan rather than just your basic fear of crowds.

"Good," he said. His guilt about taking her along receded. "You say freezing, and I'll pretend like I have a call from the hospital."

Cara gave him a smile as her shoulders relaxed. He was glad she was feeling better about this, but as they got closer to the club, all the anxiety that had drained from her began filling him.

The familiar warmth and scents greeted Antonio as he walked through the doors with Cara and into the large centre atrium of La Tavola Club. His grandparents had been members of the club ever since they'd immigrated to Canada, and he'd been going there since he was born.

So had Fran.

In fact, they'd first met there when they were five years old at a Christmas party, while standing in line to meet Santa. They'd had their first kiss in the coat check after graduation when they were thirteen.

And their extravagant wedding reception was held in the enormous ballroom down the hall ten years ago.

He forced his brain to stop dwelling on the past and walked in step with Cara across the polished marble floor toward the coat check at the smaller reception room, thankful that at least the party wasn’t in the same space as his wedding.

"It's just through there," he said, nodding toward the open doors, where he could already see his aunts gathered at a table. "I'll take your coat."

He stepped behind her and took the collar of her coat and slid it down her back, then forced his gaze off her long, soft neck as images of him bending and kissing her along her necklace burst into his mind.

What the hell is happening?

A million conflicting thoughts raced through his mind. He fought the urge to slap himself.

"Thank you," she said with a pretty, reluctant smile.

He handed their coats to the attendant, took a deep breath, and walked them through the doors.

His eyes immediately found Fran.

She was standing by the bar with a tall, rugged looking guy in a brown suit with a navy plaid tie. His heart sank. He looked away before she noticed him noticing her and put all his attention on his “date.”

"You okay?" he asked, leaning in toward Cara.

She turned and smiled up at him. Well, slightly up at him. Wearing heels, she was only a couple of inches shorter than him.

She leaned in close, her cheek close to his, and whispered into his ear, "I feel like my heart is going to fall out of my butthole."

A laugh escaped, taking with it some of the tension, and finally he got a bit of relief. "Medically impossible," he said as he took her hand to give her some support. She was warm and soft and he had to work hard to get his wayward thoughts in line. "Just remember our code word."

They took a few more steps into the room and pulled up short when Antonio's favourite person came bounding toward him with a shriek. He bent down and opened his arms.

"Zio!"