Page 51 of Mafioso's Muse
‘Willow Hayes.’
The bartender opened the door the rest of the way, and Willow stepped inside. ‘Just wait here,’ she instructed before heading off in the direction of Vaughn’s office.
Willow looked around at the familiar setting, her gaze settling on the mural. She let the memory of that first meeting wash over her once again.
‘Sorry,’ the woman said, reappearing a minute later. ‘He must have slipped out. I can leave a message for him if you like?’
Willow looked past her to the mirrored wall. ‘No need, thank you.’ Mustering some more bravery, she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and headed straight for Vaughn’s office.
‘Miss Hayes,’ the bartender said with an edge of panic in her voice. ‘I said he’s not here.’
Willow picked up speed and was around the bar and through the door before the woman could stop her. She found herself in a hallway with more doors. With her heart racing, she opened the first one on her left. Inside, she found Vaughn standing by the large window, hands in his pockets. He turned to face her, and her breath hitched when she saw his face. While it wasn’t as bad as Antonio’s, there was a large purple bruise down one side of it.
‘Oh my goodness,’ she breathed. Her eyes moved over him, searching for more damage. ‘What happened to you?’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Then why didn’t you want me to see it?’
He wet his lips. ‘You know exactly why. I didn’t want you worrying about things you don’t understand—and now you’ve missed studio time.’
She took a few steps towards him. ‘I needed to know you were okay.’
‘We agreed to stay away from each other, remember?’
Her eyes welled up despite promising herself she wouldn’t get emotional. ‘I don’t like it.’ She sounded like a child still developing her emotional vocabulary.
His eyes moved between hers. ‘It’s nothing.’
Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around his middle. ‘What happened?’
At first he didn’t touch her. Then slowly his arms went around her. The weight of them was pure comfort.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said quietly.
Pulling away slightly, she reached up and lightly traced her finger along the angry splashes of colour, her heart physically aching. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing the backs of her fingers.
‘I’mfine,’ he reassured her. ‘You need to forget about this shit and go back to the studio.’
She stepped back, her eyes locked on his. ‘Will you come to my apartment tonight?’
His expression softened. ‘Why?’
She didn’t really have a good answer. ‘Because I feel weird. Weird, and maybe a little sick.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘I know this sounds crazy?—’
‘It’s not crazy.’ His voice was so calm. ‘I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.’
‘Oh, it’s definitely not a good idea,’ she said with nervous laughter. ‘I know we’re supposed to stop caring?—’
‘I agreed to see you less, not care less.’
Her hands felt heavy at her sides. ‘Maybe you could just… let me feed you.’
He appeared surprised by that suggestion. ‘You want tofeedme?’
Willow hadn’t known what would spill out of her mouth. ‘The food won’t be to the standard you’re used to—obviously.’ Her throat caught. ‘But I do make good hummus.’
Amusement filled his eyes. Looking away, he nodded. ‘What time would this hummus of yours be ready?’