Bittersweet (The Calvettis of New York 4)

I don’t move as he rests both hands on the counter, boxing me in. “Thank you, Luke.”

“It’s my pleasure, Afton.” He runs his lips along my cheek. “There is nothing better than making you happy.”

***

“Online things aren’t for me,” Marti explains as she places a glass of iced tea in front of me. “I know you emailed me some pictures, but I couldn’t find them. I looked everywhere on my computer.”

I smile because I emailed her a link to a private online gallery hosted on my website. “I understand.”

“I don’t.” She laughs. “Dante was trying to explain it on the phone to me. I finally told him I would wait to see the pictures in person.”

“I’m glad you did.” I glance toward the kitchen of the restaurant. “If you grab your laptop, I can open the online gallery and show you. That way, you’ll have it available to look at whenever you want.”

She shakes her head. “It’s at home. I don’t bring it to the restaurant. It’s just one more thing for me to misplace.”

“I’ll show you the pictures on my laptop.” My hand dives into my laptop bag, but I come up empty.

I turn to where it’s sitting on the chair next to me. I open it wide and peer inside. “Oh, shoot.”

No wonder it felt so light when I left Luke’s. It didn’t register then that the bag was missing its most important cargo.

My morning was rushed. I went home, showered, and changed into red jeans and a white blouse after I left Luke’s apartment. I made it to Lise just in time for my meeting with the bistro’s owner, but she was frantic because one of her ovens wasn’t working, so we rescheduled to next week.

When I left there, my laptop bag was strung over my shoulder, along with my red tote bag as I ventured through the city.

“I left my laptop on the coffee table at Luke’s,” I say softly.

“You did?” Marti’s face lights up.

I keep my head turned because I don’t want Marti to see the blush that I know is creeping up my cheeks. “I was working there last night.”

“Before sleeping there?”

I finally turn to look at her. “Yes.”

She lifts her butt off her chair so she can lean far enough ahead to kiss my cheek. “I like that my Luke is with you.”

That brings a smile to my lips. “I can pull up the online gallery on my phone to show you the pictures.”

“Okay, good.” She grins. “I’m excited to see.”

I open the browser on my phone and navigate to the online gallery. I click on the first photo. I turn my phone’s screen so it’s facing her.

She squints behind her glasses. “That’s so small.”

I turn the phone back and adjust the image. “Is this better?”

Still squinting, she shakes her head. “Old eyes.”

I let out a small laugh. “Small phone screen.”

“I have an idea.” She pats my hand. “I have a key to Luke’s apartment. You can run and get your laptop. I’ll cook brunch for you while you’re gone. Then, we’ll sit and eat and look at the pictures.”

That’s an invitation I can’t pass up. One on one time with Marti is exactly what I need today.

“I can make it there and back in under thirty minutes.”

She moves to stand. “I’ll grab the keys.”

Chapter 47

Afton

I turn the key in the lock and slowly open the door to Luke’s apartment.

I’m doing well with my time estimate.

I told Marti I’d be back at the restaurant in thirty minutes. I’m fourteen minutes into my mission.

Stepping inside, I stop cold when I hear a voice.

It’s not flowing in through the open window or from the corridor. It’s coming from the main living area. It’s just out of my view.

I glance at the watch on my wrist.

I left here less than two hours ago with Luke.

He was headed to work in the same uniform he had on the other night.

He kissed me goodbye on the corner before he started toward Times Square on foot.

I stared at his back until he disappeared from my view, but now just a few hours later, he’s here.

And he’s not alone.

I listen intently to the soft voice of a woman as it cracks when she speaks. “Luke, please.”

“Brooklyn.”

I draw in a quick, harsh breath when I hear that name.

I should put a stop to whatever the hell is going on, but my feet won’t move. I’m stuck in place, just inside the foyer.

I keep my eyes trained on the floor.

“I couldn’t do it,” Brooklyn says. “The morning of the wedding, I told Dennis I wasn’t sure. I didn’t go through with it.”

This can’t be happening.

“You’re lying.” I hear the disdain in Luke’s voice. “I went to the church. The caretaker said everyone cleared out after the wedding, so it happened.”

“Not my wedding,” she argues in a high-pitched tone. “There was a wedding booked two hours before mine. The caretaker must have been confused.”