Page 73 of Burning Caine
She shook her head. “I’m tired. I’ll take that drive home now?”
On our way out, there were too many hands to shake and embraces to make to keep up with Samantha. I had neglected many friends in favor of her and heard the complaints many times over but couldn’t care less. Other than Victoria, it had been a miraculous evening. And I was about to drive the most amazing woman in the world home.
This was our second date. No kisses until the third. I had a strict code. Unless the evening at Caruther’s was a date? We had shared a toast. But no food. Not a table. That was not a date. I would continue to be the gentleman. Sofia was right. I had to win her heart first. Her underwear would come later.
“What are you smirking about over there?”
I squeezed her arm against me again. “Have you met me before? This is my resting face.”
Her laughter was so sudden, a couple nearby turned in surprise. She was still irritated, but at least it was not with me. A good thing, given her reaction to Victoria. We navigated row after row in the warm, dark night, lit gently by the moon and light poles, until we reached my car.
Her brows knitted together for the briefest instant when I unlocked it. Most women oohed and ahhed over my Maserati convertible, but Samantha ‘The last thing I need is stuff’ Caine remained silent. I opened the passenger door for her and held her hand while she sank into the buttery-soft leather.
I slid into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and put the top down as we pulled out onto the road. “Alone, at last.” My chest tightened at those stupid words. That line was nothing more than habit. What would come afterwards?
She entered an address into the GPS and turned her face out the side window. “I appreciate the ride.”
A layer of frost. That was what would follow my stupid words. We were back to square one, with her avoiding me. Her hands didn’t shake, but she rubbed them together. This was not the painting. It was Victoria again, and my words had triggered it.
“Please tell me what Victoria said to you?”
She shook her head slightly but remained silent.
“Samantha, I don’t know what she said, but it wouldn’t have been kind. She’s not a good person.” I looked at her briefly as she kept her eyes out the side.
She sighed, not looking back at me. “Let’s talk about something more interesting.”
I could work with that. “Bene! I do love listening to you. Let me see…if you knew you were to die tomorrow, what would you do with the time you have left?”
“Gee, easy question.” Her eyes were undoubtedly rolling. “What time tomorrow?”
“Sì, good question.”
She was thawing. The evening was not ruined.
“Let’s say tomorrow at noon. It will be sudden, and you can do anything between now and then.”
“Fourteen hours?” She hummed quietly for a moment. “Drive to Detroit and hop on a plane to New York. Eat pizza in Times Square, take in the view of the city from the top of the Empire State in the middle of the night, watch the sunrise from the Brooklyn Bridge, and spend the morning at the Cloisters. And that’s where I’d die.”
I nodded slowly, aching at her solitude.
“What about you?” she asked.
“So sad. To die alone, far from home.”
“It’s not sad. I like being by myself. It would be peaceful.”
“And as you die, what do you regret?”
She paused, quiet for a moment. When she answered, it was sharp, not from her heart. “Not saving enough money to leave to my sister, to pay her bills while she’s getting treatment.”
“Why do you not spend your last day with her?”
“Because she has enough sadness in her life right now. She doesn’t need to watch me die.”
“What if there was only tonight? No airplane, no travel, two hours. What do you do with the last two hours?” I would have pulled the car over and made love to her in the back seat. If she would have me.
“I’d write a letter to her and the kids, then probably pick up a bottle of wine and head home.”