Page 11 of Spark (Lust & Luster)

Dante

“H ow much longer are you going to mope about this woman?” Ciro asks, standing at my office door.

He’s caught me looking out at the busy streets of San Francisco.

“I’m not moping,” I snark. I might be moping but I’m not about to admit it to him.

“Whatever, man,” he says. “Get out of your funk and come back to the living.”

I give him the stink eye. “I’m busy. Do you need anything?”

He reaches for the door. “Nope.”

I still can’t believe I haven’t heard from Aryanna. It’s been three weeks since the wedding, and not a sound.

I’ve contemplated calling Tom and Alicia to get her address and make sure she isn’t in the hospital. But it’s pathetic that I can’t remember her last name—not to mention, they’re still on their honeymoon.

Why wouldn’t she want to see me?

I lean back in my chair, eyes drifting to the bottle of wine still sitting on my credenza. She’d laughed when I poured it, that low, smoky sound that stuck with me all night. Now the room feels too quiet, the scent of her perfume long gone but still haunting me.

We were fantastic together. Does she not know the chemistry we have doesn’t happen with just anyone?

It wasn’t until I got home and we didn’t reconnect that I realized how much I don’t know about her. I don’t even know where she works, so I can’t look her up. I should have paid better attention when Alicia was telling me about her, trying to get me to give her a ride to the wedding.

I tried to go through Alicia’s PeopleMover page, but her friends are locked down.

I sigh.

I should have asked more questions while we were together, but I thought I had time to figure things out. I figured we’d have a lifetime to get to know each other.

I’m so mad at myself, but I was sure we were on the same page. We’d return to San Francisco and begin really dating.

Make it exclusive.

Then if things went well, when I found the right stone, I’d propose to her.

Seriously, Dante? Marriage? I can’t even believe I’m thinking these things after a long weekend, but that’s how I feel.

Only now, when I call, it goes right to voicemail. I’m sure she’s blocked me.

She must be seeing someone. Alicia and Tom don’t know about, or else they would have told me. But why would she have been with me if she was seeing someone?

I am moping, and I feel lost.

I should be preparing for my flight to Tanzania, but instead I’m thinking about the time we were together—not just when we were in bed, but the first time I met her in the back of the limo. Those damn bloomers in the cage thing got me hard.

Dana Ashfield, our admin, sticks her head into my office. “Dillon Healy would like to meet you for lunch tomorrow. Can I schedule it?”

Dillon is head of finance and our contact at SHN. “Of course,” I tell her. “Is he saying where?”

“Waterfront Café, if you’re up for it.”

A place to see and be seen. “That works. Is it just me or all of us?”

“The four of you.”

I nod. “Thanks, Dana.”

My mind immediately returns to Aryanna. I need to focus, push her rejection aside.

I can’t do anything about her until I return from Tanzania anyway, and by then Tom and Alicia will have returned from their honeymoon.

Then I can track her down and find out what the hell happened.

Now, I need to focus on my work. I have so much to get done before I go out of town.

My office door bangs open, and I look up to find my brother Luca. “You up for some lunch?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ve got a few things to get done before I can go home tonight.”

“We’re going for sushi…” He tries to tempt me.

“Not today. I’ll catch up with you later.” I need to remember to lock my door if I don’t want interruptions. Only Dana can have a key.

I return to my spreadsheet. The numbers eventually begin to blur together. I can’t ever question Matty’s dedication. He’s spot on. I think tomorrow Dillon will be very happy with where we are.

On this trip to Tanzania, I’m hitting a couple other places in eastern Africa, and my plan is to drop close to a million dollars in semiprecious and precious stones.

The designs we’ve chosen will help me to know what I need to find on this trip.

We’re getting close to launch. Ciro has been busily working on getting the website prepared while Luca is working with production.

The public relations firm recommended by SHN is working tirelessly, and we’ll make a big splash at a jeweler’s convention in Las Vegas in a few weeks.

Our goal is to be the leading purchaser of precious stones.

It’s not just about profit—it’s about legacy.

Every deal we close, every stone we secure, is another way to prove I’m more than just the oldest brother coasting on family money.

Speaking of which, I also need a trip up to Canada to look at stones.

My contact tells me they have some amazing diamonds.

I’ll check with my brothers and see if they feel comfortable spending the money there.

We’ve only found poor color and clarity in our own mine, but at least we have a major tool house willing to buy them.

We knew it was going to be hard going until we found the right vein.

Until we do, we’ll need to buy retail, but that isn’t in our long-term goals.

I’ve just finished a sandwich at my desk when Luca bangs back into my office. “We’ve got a problem.”

My blood pressure automatically rises. “What’s the problem?”

“The team in South San Francisco is talking about unionizing and striking.”

“Why would they be doing that?”

He sighs. “Because they don’t feel we’re paying a fair wage.”

I sit back in my chair. “What do you mean? We’re paying market rate and then some, and we have a generous benefits package.”

Luca shakes his head. “Based on all our research, we’ve more than met what is typical. I’m not sure where this is coming from.”

“See what you can do to reduce any exposure. We certainly don’t want it to make the papers—especially not before the launch. If this spirals, I could be buying stones in Africa while the company crumbles back home, and that’s a headline we can’t afford.”

Luca remains standing at the door. I look back up at him. “Is there something else?”

“Are you doing okay? I’ve never seen you this broken up over a woman before. And I mean never.”

The disadvantage of working with the three people who know me best, not much gets by them. Unless I want them to bug the crap out of me, I need to deflect. “I’m not broken up over any woman.”

“You’re lying. When you got back from Tom’s wedding, all you could talk about was some girl you met. And now you just sulk around, so I’m wondering what happened. We’re all wondering.”

I shrug. “It’s run its course. Nothing happened.”

“We know it isn’t the stress, because we’ve seen you manage stress for years.”

I’m starting to get pissed. “You guys went to lunch and conferenced about my love life—or lack of life?”

He runs his hands through his hair. “No. We want our brother back, the one who laughs and jokes and to get rid of stress gets laid—all one and done.”

“I’m in here going through plans to launch, and I have the final buying trip of the year beginning next week. Give me a break.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “We’re going out for drinks tonight at seven. Will you join us?”

I know if I refuse, they’ll each make their way into my office over the next hour, and I’ll never get anything done. So I force myself to smile. “I look forward to it.”

Until then, I bury myself in more spreadsheets, making sure we’re on track.

Lunch with Dillon tomorrow has lit a fire under me, as I don’t want to disappoint our funder.

I’ll need more money from them, if we’re going to have labor issues.

Particularly if I’m going to be on the other side of the globe.

Before I know it, my door is yanked open, and my three brothers are standing there looking at me.

“What can I do for you?” I ask.

“Time to go to Spirits in the Sky,” Luca says.

“We go there all the time.” I throw the yellow highlighter on my desk.

“How about someplace different? There’s that place…

that bourbon bar off of Market Street.” I would love to go someplace different than the meat market we typically hang out in.

Between the four of us, we’ve probably slept with all the regulars, and I’m not interested in anything regular anymore.

“Ohhhh,” Matteo moons. “They have great tasting flights. I’m up for that.”

“Do they serve any food?” Ciro asks.

I pull up Bourbon & Branch’s website. “Yes, they seem to have a decent menu.”

We head out in agreement, but when the rideshare drops us off at the address, the sign on the building says Wilson and Wilson Detective Agency.

“Where is it?” Ciro asks.

“The address online said five oh one Jones Street.” I look up and down the block, and I don’t see the address anywhere. I turn to Matteo. “You said you’d had bourbon flights. Haven’t you been here?”

Matteo shakes his head. “I’ve just heard about it. Maybe they’ve moved.”

Just then a man and a woman holding hands walk up to a large oak door hidden discreetly next to the detective agency. I swear I hear glasses clinking as it opens.

“We might as well try it,” Luca says after they enter. “If it’s the wrong place, they can direct us.”

He pulls on the door and it’s locked. He then knocks and a woman opens the door. “What is the password?” she asks.

“Oh, sorry. We thought this was Bourbon and Branch.”

The corners of her mouth turn up. “It is. We’re a speak easy. You should have a password to come in.”

My interest is piqued.

“I’ll let you in this time. But next time go on our website for the daily password.”

We each thank her as we walk into the small, dark bar. I love it at first sight.

The place smells of aged wood and spice, the low light catching in cut-glass decanters behind the bar. It’s warm and private, the kind of place that invites secrets—and I’ve already given away more than I meant to tonight.

The wall behind the door is flanked with bottles of bourbon—many single cask and small brands. We take a seat at the last booth and pull out menus.

When the server comes over, we each order a tasting flight and sit back to relax.

“This place should be our hang out,” Matteo says as he looks around.

“No shit. This place is great,” Ciro agrees.

When our flights arrive, the server explains the various bourbons. “I’ve put them down in the order I think you should drink them, but go crazy and do what you want,” she says.

Each glass has probably an ounce of bourbon and a cube of ice. We agree to follow her recommendation and pick up our first glasses, clinking them together. “Saluti,” we all say, then sip and savor our first taste.

“You’ve been rather secretive since you’ve returned from Atlanta,” Matty says. “Tell us about this woman.”

“Which woman?” I ask. “Tom’s new wife? What do you want to know? She’s great.”

Ciro looks at me over the menu he’s perusing for a meal. “You know we’ve met Alicia. We want to know about the woman you met at the wedding. For starters, what does she look like?”

I’m not ready to share Aryanna with my brothers right now—not until she’s firmly in my grasp. Talking about her only makes her rejection more real. So, I stare at him with a blank look on my face.

“Come on, big guy. Tell us what she looks like. What color is her hair?”

I sigh. I don’t want them to make me miserable. “It’s dark, almost black.”

They wait for me to continue describing her, but I don’t.

Luca smells the next glass. “What color are her eyes? Brown?”

I could nod and be done, but instead I blurt out, “Hazel.” Even saying it makes my chest tighten, like I’ve given them a piece of something I should keep to myself. I take a long drink, hoping the burn will erase the image of her eyes locked on mine.

Ciro tips the glass down his throat. “That sounds striking.”

I nod. “Any word on how the Goldminers are going to do this year?”

“Can’t change the subject,” Matty says as he finishes the second glass.

“Says who?”

The server returns and asks about our drinks.

“They’re fantastic, but we need food,” Ciro announces.

She pulls out a pad, and I order the pork ribs with cornbread and green beans. I don’t pay attention to what my brothers order because I’m busy trying to figure out how to get the subject off of Aryanna.

“I’m leaving on Friday, and we have lunch with Dillon Healy tomorrow,” I announce when the server walks away. “I went through the numbers and projections. Are you guys still good with the original estimates of precious and semiprecious gems we discussed?”

“Yes, that should still stand.” Matty says. “How tall is this woman you met?”

They’re not going to give up. “She’s a little taller than my shoulder.”

Luca grins. “So, she’s tall. That’s good. Is that in heels or without?”

“Without. She’s childhood best friends with Alicia, and her name is Aryanna. There isn’t much to tell beyond that.”

Finally, that seems to satisfy them, and the rest of the evening we hang out and talk sports.

With our company close to launch, we don’t want to be overheard saying anything too important.

Our business plans are confidential. But even surrounded by my brothers, bourbon in my hand, all I can think about is finding her again.

She’s there in the quiet between their jokes, in every shadow on the walk to my car, like she’s already a part of me I can’t shake.