Page 15 of Bloodstained Wings
He leans over the edge of the bed with a sly smile. “Good. When I come home tomorrow after work, we can unpack. Or undress. Whichever comes first.”
I kiss his lips deeply, giddy over the option I know Carter is going to choose in the end. I look forward to that and being near the rest of the family. Everyone sees Aunt Anita’s place as a safe haven, as a fortress, and being right next door is going to help Carter gain his sense of security back.
Maybe this move will be really good for us. After all, nothing can break us apart now.
Chapter Six
Carter
I leave the house while Isabella is still asleep. It took some time for her to fall back asleep, but the news of our new house was good enough for her to relax. She went back to sleep in my arms, and I held her for as long as possible. Now it’s Ernesto and I fighting morning traffic, but there’s too much on my mind right now. He gives me a knowing look from the driver’s seat, watching as I meander through my thoughts in the seat beside him.
“What’s going on?” he asks at last. “Is this silence about the election loss?”
“No,” I say. “Well, not really. I will find a new way to handle Killian Hughes. There’s just something that happened after the election party. It has my mind in a frenzy.”
“What was it?”
“There was a woman, a journalist. She didn’t even ask me anything, but there was a look in her eyes. Something that told me that I’d seen her before. I don’t know, Ernesto. It’s odd, but I think I know her.”
He shrugs it off. “Okay, so what’s the issue? You know a woman in Manhattan. What else is new?”
I lean on the door, thinking about her dark hair and her curvy, short posture. “It’s weird, but I can’t shake this bad feeling now. Even Isabella noticed her.”
“Did she bring it up?”
“She did, but I didn’t know what to say. I can’t just say IthinkI know who she is. I can’t even recall her name, let alone who she was to me. It was just a feeling I got. Isabella asked who she was, but I didn’t say anything about it. I just dropped it. She wants to focus on her new project, and I just want her to get into some kind of new rhythm.”
He pulls the car against the sidewalk of my building, but I don’t move yet. I’m still perturbed over what I saw on the steps of the venue. Somehow, I know that woman. I just can’t pin down how or from when.
“You need to chill out more,” Ernesto groans. “You’re so stingy lately. Go get some work done. I’ll hang out in the city, check on the movers at the penthouse, and then come back and get you in a few hours.”
I nod at his plan of action. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea. I want to help her navigate the new house, make sure she’s happy with it.”
“And if she isn’t?”
“Then I’ll buy all of Manhattan and let her pick one that she does like.”
He chuckles with that response, and I duck out onto the pedestrian-filled sidewalk. I’m antsy to get back to work, to get into the running of operations on the ground floor again, but it’s weird not having Isabella by my side. She’s been with me through everything, good and bad, and I feel a strangle of knots in my heart that makes me feel like I should still be with her right now.
I push through my hesitations, walking into my office to see someone already sitting on my couch. I’m slightly peeved that security let this woman by, but given her appearance, they probably figured it was another fling for me to use and toss aside.
I toss my things on the desk and lean back against it. The woman from the gala is laid out on my couch with her feet propped up on the table nearby. She wears cheap heels and dark stockings that don’t go all the way up her thighs, exposing her tanned skin before her skirt attempts to take over the job of keeping her half-decent.
She matches it all with a top that exposes her deep cleavage, the sight of her bra almost showing, more desperate than attractive. She’s in a place of business dressed as if she works on the corner, but that’s hardly my concern right now.
Being this close to her, rather than the distance from where I saw her last night, I can finally trace her features and match them to my memory. Nothing huge calls out to me, but a small beauty mark above the side of her lips is familiar, one I know I’ve kissed in the past.
“Lilian?”
She sits up straight, pushing her chest out more obnoxiously than before. “Aww, I’m flattered, Carter. You acted like you saw a stranger last night.”
“I’m just confused about what you’re doing here,” I sigh, seeing where this is going already. “I haven’t seen you in years. What do you want now?”
“Oh, I should have mentioned it before,” she adds, pulling a notepad out of her large purse and matching it with a ballpoint pen. “I’m a journalist.”
“I’m not interested in giving you a story,” I snip, coming around my desk and falling into the chair. “You can let yourself out now.”
She gives a pathetic pout. “Don’t be silly, baby. I already have the story. In fact, I brought you a little sample.”