Page 5

CHAPTER 5

Sienna

“ W —what are you doing here?” I ask.

He raises a plastic cup with a small smile. “Probably the same thing as you.”

I feel heat rise up my cheeks, and an embarrassed chuckle slips out of my mouth.

“I obviously know you’re here for the coffee. What else will someone be doing in a coffee shop if not buying coffee,” I backtrack. “I’m just wondering what you’re doing in this neighborhood.”

The corners of his mouth twitch at my word vomit. “It’s my favorite coffee shop.”

I’m wondering how I’ve never run into him before until he adds, “My secretary usually gets me this particular coffee, but she’s down with a cold, so I decided to pick it up on my way.”

Of their own accord, my gaze runs down his body. Today, he has on a grey pinstripe three-piece suit that is tailored to perfection over his impressive frame. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow.

“So you’re leaving then?” Dammit, I sound like a whiny teenager.

“Yes, unfortunately,” he replies. “Would you like a ride home?”

My heart leaps in my chest. Is he as unwilling as I am to part ways? But then I remember I’m in a bralette and leggings that are doing nothing to conceal my not-so-flat tummy and not-so-slim hips. I’m also sweaty.

I make a face.

Of all times, why did I have to run into him now? In all my fantasies of seeing Vincent again, I imagined myself dressed to the nines and sipping a glass of champagne elegantly. I’ll dazzle him with my sophisticated charm and witty conversation, and he’ll have no choice but to get on his knees and beg me to go home with him.

Yes, I know it’s stupid. He doesn’t even look like a man who will ever beg for anything, not with a face and presence like that.

“I’m sure you’re in a hurry, and my coffee isn’t ready?—”

“Si, I have your order ready,” Jean calls from behind me, and I wince.

Vincent’s eyes light up with amusement. “You may want to try a different excuse, Miss Marino.”

I feel heat rise up my cheeks, and I bite down on my lower lip. “Well,” I drawl.

“What did I say about biting your lip?” His gaze zeroes in on my mouth.

“I don’t remember it word for word,” I quip. “But it was something about you wanting to be the one to do the biting.”

The air around us becomes charged as his stormy eyes meet mine. Goosebumps rise up on my arms, and my nipples harden.

“I added a blueberry muffin for you, darling. You’re welcome.” Jean’s voice slices through the tension between us, and Vincent takes a step back. He clears his throat and tries to look unaffected, but I can see the way his jaw clenches, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

I want to ask him if he’s the one who bought my paintings, whether he’s hung them up yet, and also if he’s been thinking about me as much as I have been thinking about him. Anything to keep him here.

But I bite the questions back.

“Well, since you insist on not letting me drop you off, I have to get back to work,” Vincent says.

“Of course. Um, have a great day at work.”

He nods in response and then makes to walk away. At the last second, he pauses and throws me a look. “Speaking of work.”

“Yes?” I hate the desperation in my voice.

“Will you be free tomorrow?”

“Free?” Is he asking me on a date? Oh God. Is it finally happening?

“Yes. I have my eyes on a set of paintings that I discovered at an anonymously owned storage unit sale. I believe they are the real deal, but I’ll appreciate a second opinion in evaluating them.”

“Of course, I can do that,” I tell him.

“I hope it won’t be a bother. I know you probably have better things to do with your day. I’ll pay you for your time, of course.”

What better things? If only he knew I’d been spending all my days thinking about him. Gee, I’m turning out to be such a creep.

My mouth forms a firm line. “That won’t be necessary. It’ll be my pleasure to look at paintings with you.”

Something flashes in his eyes. There and gone. I wonder if my words were too forward. But instead of taking back his offer, he gives me a pleased smile.

“It’ll be my pleasure, too,” he says. “Give me your contact details, and I’ll send you the address or pick you up if you prefer.”

I rattle off my phone number, and he types it into his phone.

“I’ll give you a call,” he says.

“Okay.”

“Good day.” He raises his cup in a small salute and then walks away. This time around, I watch his retreating back, admiring the wide lines of his shoulders and back.

“He’s a looker, eh?”

I snap my head to face Jean, and she winks. My face heats at being caught staring after him, but I just grin and reply, “Yeah, he really is.”

After locating my missing earbud, I stuff myself full of Jean’s sugary delights and then make my way home.

My phone dings with a notification and I pull it out of my pocket, expecting to see another text from Sal, but I guess he’s achieved his aim of annoying me for the day because the text isn’t from him. It’s from a new number.

Vincent: Texting so you’ll have my number too. It’s Vincent.

I must look deranged, walking down the street wearing a face-splitting grin.

Saved , I text back.

A moment later, another text lights up my screen.

Vincent: Looking forward to tomorrow.

I type: Not as much as I— Wait, no, that sounds desperate. I erase the text and try something simpler. Likewise , I type before clicking send.

It’s only by sheer force of will that I don’t skip the rest of the way home. And thank goodness I manage to control my expression of delight because, by the time I barge into my apartment, I find my favorite person in the whole world seated at my kitchen table.

“Hello, Dad.” I smile fondly at him. “You know, one of these days, you’re going to walk right into something you don’t want to see if you keep breaking into my apartment like this.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You gave me a key.”

I walk forward and press a kiss to his cheek, then settle into the chair beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a man pay his only child a visit?”

My mum died giving birth to me, and since then, it’s just been Dad and me. I love my father. He’s the best dad anyone could ever have. Unfortunately, his protectiveness over me can be…suffocating.

“At 7 a.m. on a Monday morning?”

“It’s nearly eight,” he grumbles. “Where have you been?”

“I went jogging and then for coffee at Chappelle’s.”

His brown eyes narrow. “Alone?”

I sigh. Here we go again. “Yes, Dad. Alone.”

The nature of his job and the fact that he still sees me as his six-year-old daughter makes him see danger lurking everywhere around me. Even when there isn’t.

“Si, I’ve told you not to go out alone. You don’t know what sort of creeps could be lying around in wait. If you’re not going to take your safety seriously, you’ll have to move back in with me.”

I snort. “Dad, I’m not moving back with you, ever. And also, I doubt anyone is stalking me and just waiting for me to lose my guard so they can throw me into the back of a van.”

“You don’t know that,” he barks. “You should have at least taken Catherina.”

At that, I throw my head back and let out a roar of laughter. “Kat doesn’t get out of hibernation till at least ten. Plus, I can’t keep bothering her every single time I have to step out of my house. It’s just jogging. I’ve been going on this route for over a year, and nothing has happened to me yet.”

“It takes just one time,” he points out. “If you had someone like Sal?—”

I stand up with a groan and head back to the front hallway to kick off my shoes. “Seriously? You’re still going on about him after all this time?”

“What’s wrong with me trying to steer my daughter in the right direction? Salvadore is a good person. He’s courageous, kind, dependable, caring, and honest. And best of all, he loves you. Those are all good and solid characteristics.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, glaring at him. “Good characteristics for a son-in-law. Not for someone I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m not attracted to him.”

He follows after me as I pick strewn clothes off the floor and table before heading to my bedroom.

“He’s good-looking. I used to see women throwing themselves at him, and he never paid any of them any mind.”

I raise my eyes heavenward. “Good for him. But it still doesn’t change the fact that there’s no chemistry between us, and I’m not letting myself get into a relationship where I’m not itching to rip my partner’s clothes off his?—”

“Sienna D’Addario! Do not complete that sentence,” my father exclaims.

I look over my shoulder to see him looking horrified, and I can’t help my giggles. “Sorry, Papa.”

“Salvadore can protect you,” he continues. “I’ve protected you all your life, and now that I can’t anymore, I’ll be assured he’s keeping you safe.”

Yeah, Dad , I think bitterly. You protected me all my life, except the times you were so consumed with work that you couldn’t see my innocence being stripped off me by that monster.

I slam the lid on that dark thought shut and paste a smile on my face.

“I’m offended that you don’t think I’m doing a terrific job taking care of myself,” I retort.

“I didn’t say that.”

I whirl around at him. “I’m choosing to believe this is coming from a place of your own work stress and not because you actually think that after years of you teaching me how to be self-sufficient and independent, you still don’t believe in me to know I’m fine.”

His mouth presses into a thin line, and we eye each other. Then, after a while, his shoulders slump, and he backs down.

“I trust you, Si.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he offers me a smile. “You’re right. I’m just stressed about work. I trust you, and I love you.”

“How big?”

“Bigger than all the planets stacked up together.” He holds his arms open, and I willingly fall into them, breathing in his comforting and familiar scent.

“So now that we are back to being a loving father and daughter, let me help relieve some of your stress. What’s going on with the Hendrix case?” I pull away, noticing the lines bracketing his mouth and the dark circles around his eyes for the first time. “You look terrible.”

Dad chuckles. “You’re doing wonders for my self-confidence.”

“You know you still got it, old man,” I tease. “So, about the case?”

“It’s confidential.” He walks out of the room toward the kitchen, and I hurry after him.

“When has that ever stopped you?” I urge.

He glares at me and begins to go through my pantry and fridge. “You have no food in your house.”

“I’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping, and you’re stalling.”

He drags a hand over his face. “Fine. It’s the same thing we’ve seen a million times. Corrupt businessman trying to slip away through the cracks in the system. Hendrix may be the worst of them all, though. He’s ruined millions of lives and is unapologetic about it.”

“I hope you put him where he belongs. Behind bars for life.”

“You bet.” He glances down at his watch. “I’ve got to go, darling. I’ll have someone send you groceries.”

I glare. “I can get groceries on my own.”

“Sure, honey, but I’ve already texted Carlotta with a list, and she’ll probably be here soon.”

“Oh, Dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m the best. I love you too.” His mouth presses against the top of my head, and then he’s gone.

The apartment immediately feels empty without him, and I drop into the kitchen chair with a sigh.

It doesn’t take long for my mind to slip back to thoughts of Vincent and our “date.” My mouth curls into a smile. Leaping to my feet, I rush into my room to find the perfect outfit, far too excited to do anything else.