Page 122 of Chasing Caine
“Hey, handsome.” She smiled broadly, resting her face on her left hand, the diamonds on her ring sparkling. “You look amazing.”
I touched the screen, caressing the image of her glorious cheek and hair. “I am but a reflection of the beauty in front of me.”
She laughed, covering her face. “Where do you come up with this stuff? Do you have a handbook or something?”
“Sì, it’s called ‘How to Woo Samantha Caine’ and I own the only copy in existence.”
“You’re funny.” Her smile didn’t slip for a moment, and my cheeks were already aching.
“Funny looking, you mean.”
Laughing again, she adjusted in her chair. “So, what do you have to eat tonight?”
I held my plate up to the camera for her to see.
“Wow, that looks amazing!”
“And you, bella?”
“Lasagna!” A beeping noise sounded in her room, and she launched out of her seat. The same background view for the last three months—the extended-stay hotel. The microwave door opened and closed. She sat back down, showing me a black container with a clear plastic cover.
“Frozen dinner for date night?” My first night back in Brenton, I’d prepare a home-cooked feast for her. No more microwave meals.
She gave a quick shrug, distracted by something to the side of her computer. I heard a flicking noise. She moved from one side to the other, then winked at me. She was gone again and the overhead light went out. As she took her seat, gentle lights danced against her face.
“Candles?”
“I thought the ambiance, my dress, hair and makeup were more important than the food.” She pulled back the plastic cover and picked up a fork.
I did the same, diving into my meal. “Can you believe it? Less than a month before I’m home?”
Covering her mouth, she said, “It’s funny. It feels like it’s going so fast, but so slow at the same time.”
“So, you still have not found the right apartment?”
She swore she’d been looking, but it had been over three months already, and she hadn’t moved yet. “Lucy came with me to a horrible basement apartment this morning. It was gross and the floorboards all squeaked. She actually suggested I move in with her!” She pretended to cringe.
“That would be…” How to politely suggest the woman who’d become her best friend over the last few months was not roommate material? At least, not for Samantha.
“A nightmare!” Her face was brilliant, just like every video call we had since she left. There’d been tears on both sides, sadness, but always the smiles. I hadn’t needed to give her the ring. Even so far apart, we grew closer every day.
“Are you ready—” Mario whipped my door open and leaned in, his face pinching as he took in the scene. He couldn’t see the screen from the doorway. “What are you doing? Are you watching—”
“Vaffanculo!” I waved my hands angrily. “Get out!”
Samantha chuckled. “Hi, Mario!”
“Is that my girlfriend?” He marched over to my desk, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leaning in to see her. “Buonasera, bellissima! No wonder Antonio’s late.”
“Late for what?”
“For nothing,” I said, pushing him away.
He grabbed my face and kissed my cheek soundly. “We’re going to the club. I need my wingman.”
Samantha raised an eyebrow. “Your wingman?”
“He’s the best I’ve ever had. The women flock to us, he wiggles that little ring, and I get them all.”