Tossed Into Love (Fluke My Life 3)
Shrugging off my coat, I take a seat on the couch next to her and pull her into my arms.
“What happened?”
I rub her back and listen to her tell me about the fight she and Wesley got into this morning. A fight based on him saying that he wants to marry her but refusing to open up to her about his past. After she finishes telling me, I hold on to her as she cries. I try to comfort her. Eventually I help her up and get her into bed. Then I lie with her, listening to her tears as she continues to cry. In my gut, I know that she and Wesley will be okay—they love each other. Eventually they will find a way to work through this. Wesley will find a way to make this right. He looks at my sister like she’s the reason he’s breathing, so he will do whatever he needs to do. I just hate that they have to go through this right now—especially after just finding out they’re pregnant. Once Mac is finally asleep, I carefully get out of her bed and go to the bathroom. I change into pajamas, wash my face, and brush my hair. I leave the bedroom and shut the door, then get my cell phone so I can order some food. Seeing a text message from Antonio, I click on it as my pulse speeds up.
You haven’t texted me back. Is everything okay?
Sorry, everything is fine. I was just busy with work.
That’s okay. I’m on call this week at the station, but I was wondering if you will have dinner with me next Friday night? Seven?
I stare at the message, not sure how to reply. Part of me wants to jump at the chance to have dinner with him. The other part of me is freaked out at the prospect of having dinner with him. I don’t want him to do or say something that will hurt me again.
Risk it all . . . I remind myself quietly as I type my reply.
Sure, where do you want to meet?
I’ll pick you up at your place. We’ll go from there to the restaurant.
I’d rather meet you at the restaurant.
And I’d rather pick you up.
You’re annoying . . . Fine, I’ll see you at seven.
I press “Send,” then watch a little bubble appear, letting me know he’s writing me back again.
See you then, Princess. Sweet dreams.
Don’t call me Princess.
I type this quickly and press “Send” before calling in an order for shrimp fried rice. I have another message from him when I hang up my call. My heart thumps even harder as I read it.
You’re a girl who likes the color pink, heels, makeup, and designer clothes. A girl who wants to fall in love with your very own Prince Charming. You’re the definition of a princess.
Oh my god. He remembered what I said . . . almost word for word.
I have no comeback, so I type a vague response quickly.
Good night, Antonio. Be safe at work.
Thanks, baby.
Baby . . . ?
I stare at that one word while my stomach twists with anxiety. I know I can handle jerky Antonio—I’ve been dealing with him for years. I just don’t know if I have the strength to handle him being sweet, then letting me down by being a jerk once more. Biting my lip, I go to the fridge and pour myself a glass of wine. After I take a seat on the couch, I turn on the TV and flip through channels for something to watch while I wait for my food to arrive. I somehow end up being captivated by some stupid romantic comedy. As I watch, I root for the guy to figure out that he’s in love with the girl early on so she can get her happily ever after without the drama. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t happen. Still, in the end, it all works out.
Chapter 7
I’LL KEEP HIM BUSY . . . OH LORD
LIBBY
Hearing a knock on my apartment door, I look at the clock on my bathroom wall and see that it’s 6:20. Antonio’s early—as in really early.
Oh lord.
My heart starts to race, and my palms start to sweat. Knowing it’s now way too late to back out of dinner, I grab my robe and tie it tightly around my waist.
The last week has flown by in a flash with everything that has gone on. I’ve dealt with clients from Designer Closet, worked at the salon, met with the Realtor and the owner of the building the pizza parlor is in, spoken with a lawyer, and had discussions with the bank. I’ve also taken Mac to her prenatal appointment and played the go-between for her and Wesley. Thankfully, they’re back together. I’ve also worked at Tony’s a few times, and I had dinner with Palo last night to tell him that in two months, when I officially close on the pizzeria, I will no longer be working at the salon.