Page 185 of Modern Romance January 2025 5-8
‘We don’t really talk about things like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘We don’t talk about much,’ Dante said. ‘Just how Gio is, and the business side of things.’
And perhaps she oughtn’t delve—they were nibbling little chocolates and drinking dessert wine, and according to the rules they were together for a good time, not a long time—but Susie found she couldn’t quite let things go.
‘Were you ever close?’ she asked.
‘Yeah.’ He nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Instead he asked her a question. ‘Are you close?’ he asked. ‘With your siblings?’
‘I guess...’ Susie started. But, given she wanted to know more about Dante, it felt wrong to hide part of herself, and so she shook her head. ‘We’re not as close as I’d like to be. My sisters are inseparable: they work together, have their own little chat group, and they’ll be living together soon. I found out yesterday that they’re getting a flat together. By accident,’ she added. ‘They haven’t actually told me yet.’
‘So how do you know?’
‘They sent a text that wasn’t meant for me...’ She could feel her heart sink just as it had when she’d received it—just as it did whenever she felt pushed away or excluded. ‘It was quickly deleted, but I’d already seen it.’
‘Damn phones,’ he said, and gave her a gentle smile. ‘I hear it happens all the time—not that that helps.’
‘It actually does help,’ Susie corrected. ‘It’s not like discovering an affair, or anything, but I knew it wasn’t meant for me and it hurt.’ She took a breath. ‘They’re twins...’
‘Gio mentioned that,’ Dante told her. ‘So, you feel left out?’
‘Not just left out. I was never let in.’
She could feel tears stinging her eyes, but hoped she could blame the low afternoon sun streaming through the glass. She was certain she sounded pathetic—especially to someone who had lost so much. Yet he was the first person she’d ever really opened up to...the first person who had insisted she be herself.
‘They’ll tell me when they’re ready.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m pleased for them, really.’
‘Liar.’ He smiled as he called her out. And then he gave her something to think about. ‘Would you want to share a flat with them?’
‘No!’ She gave a half-laugh, but it soon faded. ‘It would be nice to be asked, though.’ She sighed. ‘I must sound very jealous.’
‘Are you?’
‘Of course not.’ She shook her head, possibly a little too quickly. ‘My mother often accuses me of being so, but...’ She decided she didn’t want to bethathonest! ‘I do love them. They’re great, honestly. And they’re gorgeous.’
‘So are you.’
‘No, they’re seriously beautiful—they turn heads wherever they go.’
Dante listened to her denial, and even as she lied to his face, still she made him smile. She was so jealous. He could feel it—could see it choking her as she spoke. And he adored her for it. Adored how she tried so hard to speak nicely of people...how she insisted everything was perfectly fine.
‘Why are you smiling?’ Susie asked, a little bemused by his expression.
‘You turn heads.’
‘Stop it,’ she said, feeling his eyes on her mouth and aching to kiss him.
‘I could very easily make you the talk of the town,’ Dante told her, looking at her lips, still glossy with truffled honey. ‘I could kiss you here.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Susie said, not feeling quite so brave at the prospect of people knowing about her fling with Dante.
And it wasn’t because she’d be embarrassed—it was more that she could glimpse Monday, and Tuesday, and all the days afterwards, possibly having to laugh it off to Louanna, or whoever, after he’d gone. The pastry chefs, too, were always delighted to gossip...
She saw it again—that glimpse of having to shrug it off. Pretend it didn’t really matter.
She looked into brown eyes that seemed to be just waiting for them to be alone, and she blushed pink in the face of such blatant desire, feeling warm in her dress, and in the heat of his gaze, and she simply didn’t know how a Sunday could be more perfect...