Page 35 of Vicious Temptation
“I’m sorry. But we need to see you before we can refill the prescription. Dr. Langan will want to talk to you, to see how you’re doing before we prescribe more medication. You’re due for a visit anyway.”
“I have a new job. And it’s really stressful?—”
“I understand, Ms. D’Amelio, but we do need to see you before we refill your medication. Dr. Langan may want to make adjustments. But I can get you in—the end of next week. Will that work?”
I don’t really feel that it will, but I also don’t feel as if I have any choice. “There’s nothing else you can do?” I half-whisper, fighting back tears, and the nurse makes a sympathetic sound that tells me even before she speaks that the answer is going to be no.
“We’ll see you then, Ms. D’Amelio,” she says with finality.
I hang up after confirming the appointment, and drop my phone into my lap, trying to breathe deeply so I don’t cry. The last thing I need is to go back into the dining room, with Agnes, Cecelia, and Danny there, looking as if I’ve been crying over something. It will open up all kinds of questions, ones that I don’t want to answer.
All I can do is hope that the nightmares don’t become a disturbance, until I can get to the appointment. It makes me even more glad that I’m going to see Clara today. She always lifts my spirits, and it will make me feel better to have my friend here for an afternoon.
If anyone notices the change in my mood when I come back to the breakfast table, they don’t say anything. I pick at my food until Cecelia and Danny are finished, and then we help Agnes clean up, before going to collect our books for the hour of reading in the living room.
Clara shows up right at noon, as promised. She texts me just as her Uber is dropping her off, and I tell Cecelia and Danny to stay put, hurrying to the front door. I want to intercept her before Agnes can, just in case there are any questions.
I swing open the front door, just in time to see Clara walking up the steps. She’s dressed for a summer day—light wash jean shorts, a loose graphic t-shirt with a faded print of a classic car on the front knotted just above her waistband, sandals, and her blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail. I feel a small flicker of envy—not at her, but just at the idea of being able to dress like that in general. I miss wearing summer clothes, feeling light and airy and free, enjoying the sun on my skin. I miss not feeling like I had to wear my clothing like armor, disappear into it to keep anyone from seeing me, so I wouldn’t be in danger.
I used to be able to relax. To just be myself, without worrying about the world around me. It feels like I was a different person then, and the change in my clothing is just a symptom of a much larger change, one that I don’t know how to reverse.
“This place is gorgeous,” Clara breathes, staring up at the Georgian exterior of the house for a moment before walking inside. “This Gabriel guy has some real style. Good taste.”
“You should see his favorite car.” I close the door, and Clara raises an eyebrow.
“You mean the Ferrari you said he took you out in? It means something that he took you out to dinner in his favorite car, doesn’t it?” Her eyes twinkle mischievously, and I glare at her, pressing a finger over my lips.
“It means he wanted an excuse to drive it. Cecelia and Danny are right in the other room, so please don’t let them hear you making jokes about their father flirting with me,” I whisper, keeping my voice low. “That’s not what this is about, and that’s the last thing I need getting back to them.”
The near-kiss from last night flits back into my head the moment I say it. It’s impossible for it not to. I can only imagine what Clara would say if I told her about it—but I don’t have any intention of that. The last thing she needs to know is that there’s any spark of attraction between Gabriel and me—I’d never hear the end of it if she did.
I hear the clicking of shoes on the tile a moment later, and Agnes comes around the corner, both of her eyebrows shooting into her hairline as she sees Clara standing there. “Who’s this?” she asks in a tone that suggests she’s not sure if Clara should be there or not, and I wince, turning to look at her.
“This is my best friend, Clara. I’ve known her for years. I mentioned her to Gabriel when we met for dinner to talk about the job?—”
“And he said it was fine for her to be here? Not to be rude, Miss Clara,” Agnes adds, giving Clara a faint smile. “Gabriel is just careful about who comes over, that’s all.”
It’s understandable. Gabriel runs in the same circles my father does, circles occupied by the mafia and Bratva and the Irish Kings, not to mention the pockets of yakuza and other smaller, criminal organizations that lurk in the underworld they do business in. I’m sure Gabriel has enemies, just I’m sure my father does, dangerous men like the ones who hurt me. It makes sense that he wouldn’t want just anyone coming over to his house, where his children live.
But Clara isn’t anyone, she’s my best friend. With a flicker of guilt, I remember telling Clara that I would ask Gabriel if it was alright if she came to visit, and I haven’t mentioned it to him since then. But I can’t imagine it being a big deal.
“I don’t think he’d mind,” I say quickly. “Clara doesn’t have any connections with anyone that Gabriel or my father works for. She’s outside all of that.”
“I can confirm,” Clara says with a laugh. “I have a very boring, normal job.”
“Do you want me to ask Gabriel? Or you can—” I hesitate, my stomach tightening at the idea of Gabriel being angry with me, or telling Clara that she needs to leave. Today, of all days, I really need her here. Having her over will distract me from all the things that have happened since last night that have left me feeling anxious and off-kilter, and I need that anchor to steady me.
Agnes lets out a breath, glancing between the two of us. “He was a bit out of sorts this morning, so I’d really rather not bother him. He trusts you, Bella, so if you vouch for her, I’m sure it’s fine. Just make sure you’re not too distracted, having her here.”
“I won’t be,” I promise quickly, at the same time, Clara echoes it.
“I won’t be a distraction at all,” she says. “Thanks?—”
“Agnes.”
“Thanks, Agnes.” Clara flashes her a broad smile, one that I’ve seen charm just about anyone within its radius, and Agnes nods, giving me one more look before disappearing down the hall.
My stomach twists, and I wonder if I’ve once again done something I shouldn’t. If Gabriel is going to be upset about this. But why would it matter if Clara is here? She’s not going to interrupt our usual day, just hang out while we do all of the things I would normally do with Cecelia and Danny. I can’t see how it hurts anything.