Page 94 of For Your Eyes Only
Stepping around behind me, he massages my shoulders as I sip the comforting beverage. “You never told me what happened, why you left.”
“Because I don’t know what happened.” After so many weeks, a wobble still enters my voice.
I pass him a cappuccino, and his eyebrows rise. “You could be a barista.”
“And ruin the thing I love?” Curling my nose, I shake my head. “I’m glad you came for a visit. I do miss you and Bianca and Shula.”
“So that leaveswhatare you doing now?”
“Oh, I take in sewing jobs for the dry cleaner in town, and my aunt suggested I apply for a teaching position at our old company. That was a hard no.” My voice turns quiet. “I’ll never dance again.”
Sympathy fills his eyes, but I shake my head. I don’t want to go there.
Quick as a blink, he shifts gears. “What the hell do you do for thedry cleaner?”
“Minor garment repairs, replacing zippers, you’d be surprised. Last week I had to reattach the lace on a Valentino dress. It was gorgeous.”
“Did you take a photo?”
“You know I did.” I grin, hopping over to grab my phone and pulling up my photos.
He takes it, and while he studies the gorgeous red dress, I take another sip of coffee. “I have enough money. I don’t need to do anything, but I like to sew. It reminds me of my mother.” Standing at the window, I think about those old days. “Before I started dancing, I thought I might move to Milan and try to be a fashion designer or work at one of the houses. I designed all our costumes for The Rhino.”
Handing my phone to me again, the picture of Trip and me is on the face. “I'm going to walk down and get a bottle of wine, then we’re going to talk.”
“Misha, please don’t.”
He holds up a hand, shaking his head. “As my former fiancée, I have a vested interest in your happiness. We’re going to make a plan.”
With that, he’s out the door, and I exhale heavily, turning to the window again. He has to understand I don’t want to make plans or pretend my heart isn’t broken. He has to let me heal.
Our relationship came on quickly, but it was intense and real. It had fire and passion, and it’s going to take time to get over it, to believe I’ll find another person who’ll make me feel that way again.
The door creaks as it slowly opens, drawing my attention. “That was fast, did you forget something? Oh!” My heart flies to my neck, and I jump up, going around behind my chair. “Can I help you?”
Standing in the doorway, staring intensely at me, is a tall man with dark hair and glittering black eyes. “Hello, Giana.”
“How do you know my name?” My heart beats painfully fast. “Have we met?”
“Not face to face, but you know me.” He takes another step closer, entering my apartment. “I’m your number one fan.”
His voice is creepily friendly, and fear squeezes the breath from my lungs. My eyes flicker around the small apartment, searching for anything I can use as a weapon. A blanket is on my bed, and a picture is on the wall. I have a candle, but it’s not lit.
“What are you doing here?” My voice rasps. “You weren’t supposed to know where I lived.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t easy, but I have connections, technology.” He takes another slow step towards me. “You left without saying goodbye. That hurt.”
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice.” Silently, I pray Michele will hurry, come back…Come back.
“Is he paying you to stay here? Tohidefrom me?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” A glass vase of flowers is on the table in front of me, and I step closer to it, doing my best not to indicate my intentions. “No one is paying me, and I’m definitely not hiding.”
“You know who I mean.Trip Alexander.” Anger rises in his voice. “The man who carried you off the stage. Is he keeping you here?”
“We broke up.” I’m closer to the vase. “He never wants to see me again.”
The man’s eyes narrow, and he blinks at me, taking another step closer. “I don’t believe you. Why would he do that?”