Come Away With Me

  “You should have called me months ago.”

  “I thought it would stop. I thought maybe I could help him.”

  “He doesn’t want help, Gianna. That’s something you need to remember.”

  She smiles up at me sadly. “He’s my brother.”

  The doorbell rings and Gianna pulls away. “I’ll go get the door.”

  I close the laptop and stow away the paperwork before Gianna leads Liliana into the kitchen, both chatting excitedly.

  “You’re here!” Liliana exclaims and launches herself into my arms, plants her lips on my cheek and clings to me.

  It very nearly turns my stomach.

  “I’m here,” I reply and pull her off of me and motion for her to sit at the table. “How are you, Liliana?”

  “Oh, I’m great.” She smiles, and I can’t help but take her in, from head to toe. She’s in stylish, brightly colored clothes that fit her long, lithe body like a glove. She’s always been thin, almost too thin.

  But her breasts are full and almost spill from her blouse.

  She’s had them done.

  Her lips are bright red, her skin pale and perfect. Her raven black hair spills around her shoulders in loose curls, and her blue eyes are bright as she watches me, her lips tipping up in a flirtatious smile.

  “I’ve missed you, Dominic.”

  I cock a brow. “Have you?”

  “Very much.” She leans over and grips my hand in hers, but I slowly lean back, out of her reach.

  I don’t want her touching me.

  Gianna serves dinner, and the two of them chat happily, gossiping about mutual friends, giving me a chance to watch Liliana.

  Was I ever really attracted to her? Of course I was, but the reasons why are a mystery to me. She obviously works very hard to make herself beautiful, and yet ironically, she’s incredibly unattractive.

  Being a cheating bitch will do that, I suppose.

  “Oh, Dom, do you remember that weekend trip we took to Rome? That last one when we got engaged?”

  I physically flinch before I can stop myself. Of course I remember the weekend trip to Rome.

  “What of it?”

  “Well, I was just there a few weeks ago, and that little bed and breakfast that we stayed in is for sale. Of course, I so longed to buy it, purely for sentimental value.” She bats her eyes at me. “You should buy it.”

  “Why in the hell would I do that?”

  “Because it’s our special place, of course.”

  Gianna frowns at Liliana, and then watches me warily. I set my fork down, lean on my elbows, and watch Liliana over the rim of my wine glass.

  “What’s your game, Lil?”

  “Game?” Her eyes go wide, innocently, and four years ago, I would have bought it hook, line and sinker. “There’s no game. That place is special to me. I would hate for someone to buy it and turn it into something horrible.”

  “Gianna,” I begin and stand, gesturing for Liliana to take my hand, which she does without hesitation. “I’m going to take Liliana outside to talk privately.”

  “Of course,” Gianna replies, and begins clearing the table. I try to pull my hand from Liliana’s, but she holds firm, smiling flirtatiously up at me, the way she used to do when she couldn’t wait to get me home and rock my world, as I lead her outside and around the side of the house on the wrap-around covered porch.

  “Thank goodness we’re alone at last,” she purrs and glides her hands up my chest, leaning into me, tipping her head back in invitation. “I’m so happy that you’re home, mi amore.”

  I back away from her touch and cross my hands over my chest. “I’m not your love, Liliana. I’m not anything to you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  I tilt my head to the side, watching her closely. “You fucked my cousin. The night before we were to get married.”

  Her lip quivers and tears spring to her eyes, but I don’t for one minute believe they’re genuine.

  Liliana is a master manipulator.

  “It was only cold feet.”

  “Or a cold heart,” I reply calmly.

  “I wish you would just forgive me, Dominic. It was a moment of weakness. It meant nothing at all.”

  I nod, considering her words. “Yes, Marco told me that you’d been fucking him for about three months. So, was that just a three month long moment of weakness then?”

  Her eyes narrow and lips firm. “Did you come here to reconcile or not?”

  “Not.” I drag my finger over my lips, considering her. “I came here because my cousin needed me.”

  “Then why did you invite me to dinner?” She props her hands on her slender hips and glares at me.

  “For a few reasons.” I rest my hip on the banister casually. “One, I’d like to know how much money you’ve talked Marco into giving you over the past six months.”

  She starts to speak, but I hold a hand up, stopping her.

  “I also wanted you to finally admit that you’d been fucking him since before I proposed to you. And I wanted to simply ask you why.”

  “Why what? Why does Marco give me money? Why was I fucking him?”

  “All of it.”

  She tosses her head back and laughs. Not the sexy, lovely laugh I once knew her to have, but a vindictive, malicious laugh that only makes her look more ugly.

  “Oh, come on, Dominic. You’re an adult. We had a good time together. The sex was spectacular, we made each other laugh.”

  “The sex was mediocre,” I correct her and smirk. Sex with Alecia was spectacular.

  “It was never about you,” she spits out. “As soon as I set foot on this vineyard when I came out here to take care of your mama, God rest her soul, I knew that I wanted it.”

  “You wanted the vineyard?” I ask incredulously. “For what? You’re a nurse.”

  I rack my brain, thinking back to those months when Liliana came here to care for my mama when she was dying, how compassionate she was.

  She’d been my rock during that time, and it was why I’d fallen in love with her.

  “I’m a damn good nurse, but do you honestly think that’s what I want to do forever? Watch people die?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want money!” She shakes her head at me like I’m stupid. “You always talked of moving to America, starting over, and that wasn’t what I wanted. I love it here. Right here. And I knew Marco would never leave.”

  “So, you seduced him.”

  “And I still do,” she replies with a smug smile. “And he does pretty much whatever I tell him to.”

  “Including steal money from his sister,” I growl.

  “Hey, I’ve been asking Gianna to talk you into moving back home for a long time, Dominic. You were the one I wanted, but I wanted you here. And I wanted a claim on this vineyard.”

  “Have you forgotten that you’d signed a pre-nup, Lil?” I smirk, when her face pales and she glares at me. “And aside from that, Marco and I are not controlling owners in this vineyard. He and I only each own twenty-five percent. Gianna owns fifty percent. This is her vineyard.”

  “Well, then it’s a good thing I’ve kept the mindless twit as a friend all these years, isn’t it?”

  “You’re no friend of mine.”

  We both turn, shocked to find Gianna standing at the end of the porch, a bottle of wine in her hands, quivering with rage.

  “Gianna, bella, you misunderstood me.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Gianna shakes her head and sets the wine on the railing. “All this time, I thought you were in love with Dominic.” She turns her sweet eyes to Liliana and sighs. “I felt sorry for you.”

  “Well, that’s something we have in common,” Liliana replies coldly.

  “You’re going to need to get the fuck off my property now,” Gianna says, surprising us all with her language. Liliana turns to me in a huff.

  “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

  “Absolutely. Get the fuck out.”
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  “Dom,” she begins, and softens her face into a soft, self-deprecating smile. “When your mama was dying, she told me that she hoped that you’d find a nice woman like me. She wanted us to be together.”

  “My mother didn’t know what you are, Liliana. I do. Get off of Gianna’s property before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

  Liliana glares at both of us, then stomps inside for her purse and slams out the front door. Gianna and I watch each other quietly as we hear her car start and the tires squeal as she tears out of the driveway.

  “Are you okay, bella?” I ask her.

  She frowns and nods, but then her face crumbles and she shakes her head no. I cross to her and gather her close, rocking her back and forth as she cries.

  “I thought she was my friend.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “I thought she loved you, and I felt sorry for her, and that’s why I always ask you to come home.”

  “I knew that too.”

  “God, she’s a bitch.”

  I chuckle and kiss her head, then lead her to the porch swing and help her dry her cheeks.

  “You knew all of it,” she says quietly. “You knew that she was helping Marco steal from me, and all the rest of it.”

  “I did.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I tilt my head and watch her quietly, and finally she sniffs and nods.

  “You tried. Right after it all happened, you tried, and I told you that you were imagining things and wouldn’t believe you.”

  “She was your friend.”

  “You’re my family,” she replies.

  I shrug and then nod, just as my phone rings in my pocket.

  “Hello, Celeste.”

  “Hi, Dominic. I’m placing the food order for the family reunion being held here next weekend, and I wanted to make sure that you don’t have anything to add to it.”

  “No, the last email I sent you is it. Check with Blake, though. He might have tweaked the menu a bit.”

  “Yes, sir. Oh, and did Alecia catch up with you the other day before you got to the airport?”

  I frown, ignoring Gianna’s look of surprise at Alecia’s name.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, she was looking for you. She didn’t leave a message, but it sounded important.”

  Of course it was important. I’d caught her with Blake.

  “Thanks, Celeste.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  She clicks off and I shove my phone in my pocket.

  “Who’s Alecia?”

  “No one.” Everything.

  “What is it the American’s say? Oh yes, bullshit. Who is she?”

  I take a deep breath, and before I know what I’m doing, I’ve spilled everything to her. How I met her, how we came together, how much she means to me, all the way through to the day I was coming to Italy and I found out she’d been sleeping with her best friend.

  “But she was trying to find you when you were on your way here. Celeste just said so.”

  “Of course she was,” I scoff. “She got caught and she was trying to beg for my forgiveness, which she won’t get.”

  “So, you haven’t spoken to her.”

  “No.”

  Gianna sighs and murmurs something about pig headed men. “Perhaps you should talk to her before jumping to conclusions.”

  “I know what I saw, Gianna.”

  “You saw her best friend sitting on the couch.”

  “Half naked, sweaty, and their clothes thrown all over the fucking living room. It wasn’t exactly innocent.”

  “Well, I’ll concede that.” She bites her lip. “I’m sorry. I’m clearly not the best judge of character, and I’ve never met your Alecia.”

  “She’s not mine,” I reply quickly.

  “Isn’t she?” Gianna grins and cups my face in her hands. “You love so strongly, Dominic. You always have. It’s one of the things that both opens you up to great heartache and brings you such joy. Liliana dimmed that light in you for a while, but I can see that it’s back. There’s anger there, and I’m not saying it shouldn’t be, but perhaps you should try to reach out to her.”

  “She hasn’t tried to contact me either, Gianna.”

  “You’re halfway across the world. It’s been two days. Cell phones aren’t always reliable.” She leans in and kisses my cheeks then stands. “Ti amo.”

  “I love you too.” I kiss her hand before she walks away, lifts the forgotten wine bottle off the railing, and returns inside.

  I know what I saw. There was no way to mistake it. Her clothes were everywhere; Blake was half dressed.

  And she refused to fucking say that she hadn’t just been with him. She wouldn’t deny it.

  If she came looking for me, it was because I found out about it.

  Right?

  I shake my head and scrub my scalp in agitation, and then decide fuck it and pull my phone out of my pocket and quickly dial her number.

  It goes straight to voice mail.

  I frown and try one more time, but it again goes to voice mail. It’s either dead or she shut it off. I take a deep breath, and finally bring Jules up in my contacts and dial her number.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, Jules, I’m trying to reach Alecia and I can’t get through on her cell. Have you spoken with her?”

  “Dominic?”

  “Who else would this be?”

  “Your number came up as unknown. You’re lucky I answered.”

  “Have you spoken to her?” I ask again.

  “No, I haven’t spoken to her since the baseball game. Is everything okay?”

  I swear under my breath and rub my fingers over my lips. “No, it’s not okay. But I’ll figure it out.”

  “I’m sure she’s fine, Dom.”

  “Thanks, bella.”

  She’s probably right. I’m sure she’s fine. But now worry has settled in. I need to get Gianna back on her feet and have words, and come to blows, with Marco, so I can go home and figure out what the fuck is going on.

  Chapter Twenty

  ~Alecia~

  I didn’t know I could hate a city as much as I hate San Francisco. And it’s really not the city’s fault. It’s a beautiful city with lovely buildings and interesting people. Excellent food. There’s always something going on here, whether it be an art exhibit or a festival.

  And the views of the Golden Gate Bridge and the Pacific Ocean are stunning.

  But there are nothing but bad memories for me here.

  I drive my rental car through the neighborhood I grew up in. I know the streets like the back of my hand. I walked home countless times, alone, when one of my parents forgot to pick me up from school, or simply didn’t come get me because it was inconvenient.

  I could find their house blindfolded.

  I pull up to the curb, cut the engine, and simply gaze about the tidy, middle class neighborhood. It’s a beautiful, sunny summer day. The trees are heavy with green leaves, the sidewalks tidy and busy with kids on bikes or running around with friends. Two of the neighbors are mowing their lawns.

  I step out of the car and stare at Mom and Dad’s house. They must have had it recently painted. Instead of the solid, dependable dark grey from my childhood, it’s now a rust color, and the green shrubs on either side of the small porch look even brighter against the house.

  I take a deep breath and walk slowly up the sidewalk, climb the stairs of the porch, and ring the doorbell. My eyes can’t help but travel to the corner of the porch where I used to sit for hours on end, watching the other kids in the neighborhood, wishing I didn’t have to go to another piano lesson or basketball practice or day camp.

  The door opens and my mother, her blonde hair curly and a bit unruly around her thin face, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans rolled up to mid-calf, opens the door with a surprised smile.

  “Alecia! Oh my goodness, what are you doing? Co
me in, darling.” She steps back, letting me in and kisses both of my cheeks. “Alan! Alecia is here!”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Well, this is a delightful surprise. Are you visiting from Sedona?”

  “Seattle,” I correct her and clench my hands into fists. “I live in Seattle.”

  “That’s right, dear. Come on back to the kitchen. Your father and I were just about to have some lunch.”

  The furniture is the same. Brown leather couches and a tube TV at least fifteen years old sit in the living room. The same worn dining room set in the kitchen.

  Even the mug my dad is drinking out of in the kitchen is one I gave him for Christmas when I was nine.

  “Alecia,” he says kindly, and kisses my cheek. “How nice of you to visit. It’s been, what, at least six months?”

  “Three years,” I reply, and blink back tears. Why does this always surprise me?

  Mom frowns and begins gathering lunchmeat, cheese, and bread to make sandwiches.

  “No, it can’t be that long,” she says and shakes her head. “I’m quite sure we spoke to you at Christmas.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I reply firmly. This is what I’m here for, right? I might as well start standing up for myself now.

  “Well, it’s good to see you,” Dad says with a grin. “How is Sedona?”

  “Seattle,” I say between gritted teeth. “Why can’t either of you ever remember that I live in Seattle?”

  “Do you want ham or turkey, dear?” Mom asks Dad.

  “Turkey, please. Alecia, come sit.” He gestures to the chair to his left, and I lower myself into it, set my handbag on the floor, and take a deep breath.

  I wish I had a good, strong drink.

  “I won’t be here long,” I begin, and bite my lip, mustering up courage.

  “What is it, darling?” Mom asks kindly and cuts dad’s sandwich in two, diagonally, just the way he likes it.

  “If you didn’t want me, why did you have me?”

  They both still, then frown at me, flustered.

  “What are you talking about?” Dad says.

  “I know I wasn’t planned,” I continue, tracing a pattern on the table with my fingertip. “That was never a secret. But, if you didn’t want me, and I was an accident, why didn’t you give me up for adoption, rather than keeping me and ignoring me my whole life?”