Page 42 of Forbidden Fruit
Pierce reclines in his chair, observing me with a critical eye.
“Take your time,” I snap, snarky and impatient.
“Oh, I will. It’s not every day the impenetrable Lino Marquesi says something more than a grunt.”
“And you’re making me regret it,” I groan.
I move my chair back from the table, but Pierce clicks his tongue. “You have no sense of humour. Does the girl know that?”
“She did call me an asshole multiple times.”
He snorts but doesn’t comment. “Tell me more about her,” he demands.
I could wax poetic about how much I enjoy watching her with my children, how she’s pure sunshine when I’ve been left in rainy days all my life, how her little embroidered clothes make me smile, albeit internally, and how I long to glide my fingers through her soft chestnut hair. Instead, what comes out of my mouth is, “She’s working for me. Alana introduced us.”
“Ah yes, I remember. Vanessa, was it? And?”
“And that’s immoral.”
“More immoral than you watching her on your little security app?” he asks with a smirk and I curse myself. Of course, he’d find out about this, with his background in cyber-security. My teeth grind together with displeasure at being called out. I don’t regret it though, so I stay silent.
“I guess not,” he continues. “What’s the problem, other than she is your employee? That can easily be changed.”
“I can’t have my children be confused.”
“And she’s okay being your little secret fuck?” he asks with a raised brow.
I don’t tell him that I’m not fucking her, or that I want to show her off to the entire world. “I don’t think she’d like that, no,” I simply answer.
“I think you’re hiding behind your children and you know it, Lino. If you want to be with her, you tell your children and make it happen. They already love her, don’t they?” I nod. “Then be a partner. Find a solution together. Is she against it?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Wait a minute, she doesn’t know you like her? Or she doesn’t know you want her?”
“Both,” I answer sheepishly.
“Why didn’t you tell her how you feel?”
“It just happened yesterday. I need more time.” I cringe because I’m already out here asking for advice when it comes to her, while she doesn’t even know how much I want her, how much I crave her.
“You want more time to know how you feel about her or for her to show you that she’ll leave like your ex-wife did?”
I glide my tongue over my teeth and take a deep inhale that I release slowly.
“Look, I don’t need to be a shrink to know your hang-ups. But you need to figure that shit out with one if you want to give this girl what she deserves. And if Alana introduced her to you, you better not hurt her or you’ll lose your dick,” he half-jokes.
Knowing Alana, she’d be capable of it and worse.
The suggestion to see a therapist makes my skin crawl. I despise the idea of a stranger looking into my memories and judging the choices I’ve made. Or worse, to tell me there’s actually something wrong with me. If I’m unfit to be a father, they could take my children away from me, or Monica could win custody if she ever re-appears.
“Pierce, I have a favour to ask.”
“Yes, I’ll find your ex-wife,” he says before shoving a piece of steak into his mouth and taking a sip of red wine.
I’m not shocked he knew where my thoughts were going. If I want to move on, I have to find closure. Not everything is related to my ex-wife, but she’s a big key to facing my bad memories and healing from them.
TWENTY-THREE