LOVE on The Horizon (Breaking The Rules #1) (19 page)

“Clara.” I moved aside, knowing Marco would be back any minute. I was too curious to know why she was here to deny her access.

“Thank you.” She walked in like she owned the place and sat on the sofa without invitation. Although her suit jacket, skirt, and blouse screamed professionalism, their tight fit left little to the imagination. Her body was perfection, from her large breasts to her narrow waist to her long, toned legs. Inferiority reared its ugly head as I sat across from her in jeans, Chucks, and a T-shirt.

“Marco should be back any minute. We are leaving shortly. What can I do for you?”

“He’ll be a few minutes,” she admitted confidently. “His parents needed to speak to him. I don’t want to beat around the bush, though. I’m not sure if Marco told you about me.”

“He did.” She waited expectantly for more, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of how much I knew.

“Good. So then you must know I am a lawyer—and a good one at that. The Puglias are my family. In spite of the problems Marco and I had over the years, I still love his parents and his sisters like my own. When someone comes around trying to hurt my family in any way, my claws come out.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She reached into her Fendi bag and handed me a folded piece of paper. My heart leaped in my chest when I saw a list of facts that detailed my life. From my address to my prior employments to my financial records, it was all there in black and white.

“What is this?”

“That’s you.” She pointed a manicured nail at the paper and said, “And that number at the bottom is how much you owe in student loans.”

I felt sick. Was she implying I was after Marco’s money? “Where did you get this?”

“Being a successful lawyer affords me friends with certain abilities. It must have been a dream come true when you realized the man you seduced had millions in his trust fund.”

“It’s not like that,” I spat out through clenched teeth.

“It sure looks like it from here. You met, fell in love, and planned to sail off into the sunset for the rest of your lives only a few months after meeting? Such a great story, a real life fairytale.” She crossed a long, bare leg over her knee, annoyingly jiggling her red-soled Louboutin.

Taking advantage of my stunned silence, she continued. “Marco is easily influenced by a beautiful woman. He also has a fiercely protective side. The combination makes it very easy to ‘con’ him.” She stood suddenly and walked toward the door. “I have to give you credit. You’ve managed to get those loving, generous people to fall for your sweet American charm as quickly as you snagged their son. It’ll break their hearts to learn your true agenda.”

“You are so off the mark. You think you can threaten me with this? Be my guest. I love him, and it has nothing to do with his fortune.”

“Sure it doesn’t. I suppose working at that tacky American bar was also part of your plan? What’s it called, Hooters?”

She definitely did her homework. With her words she managed to deliver a well-placed punch to my gut. Refusing to show her exactly how much she upset me, 

I raised my chin defiantly and asked, “Is this your way to get him back? He doesn’t love you.”

“I’d rather see him be alone than to be taken advantage of.”

“How noble. Marco and I have no secrets.”

“Nor do Isabella and I. Congratulations on your engagement.” She smiled at my shocked expression. Opening the door, she turned one last time to add, “Engagements can be broken; I’m living proof.”

With the slam of the door, she unleashed a fury within me that I’d never felt in my twenty-two years. It was an hour before Marco came back to find me pacing furiously in the living room.

The look on his face spoke volumes. Wordlessly, he walked straight over to wrap me in his arms.

“She was here?”

“Yes, she was.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,
bella
. I had some damage control to handle with my parents. I had no idea she would stoop to this level.”

“It’s not true,” I muttered pathetically into his chest. “You know it’s not true.”

“Of course I know that,” he responded, smoothing a hand over the back of my head.

“But they don’t.”

“I’ll worry about them.” He pulled back enough to look down at my face. “With time, they’ll realize her little trick was a vindictive way to hurt me for breaking up with her. My parents and Isabella now know the real reason I ended our engagement. I need to trust they’ll come to the correct conclusions—regarding her and you.”

All the euphoria I felt just an hour ago immediately dissipated. A seed of doubt had now been planted within his family, and it could easy blossom into a shitstorm of distrust and animosity for years to come.

“I should have told you how much.” His eyes narrowed on mine as he processed what I was saying. “The amount I owe. It’s a lot, Marco. I should have told you.”

“Rebecca, I am a grown man. I am smart enough to know what a student loan means, especially one from America. It doesn’t matter how much you owe.”

“It does. To them, it does.”

He held my head, forcing my gaze to focus on his eyes. “No, it doesn’t. When you strip away the drama and the passion that make my parents seem irrational at times, once the dust clears, they are very intelligent, level-headed people.” He kissed me long and hard. “We need to go. Ma and Pa are in the house waiting to say good-bye. I ordered Isabella to leave. She claimed she had no idea what Clara was up to.”

“But she believes her, nonetheless.” I searched his face for signs that I was wrong and found none. “They all believe her.”

“With time, they’ll realize our relationship is true and honest and was never deceitful in any way, shape, or form. Come.” He held a hand out which I accepted woodenly.

I wasn’t as optimistic as he was. This new tension between him and his family was completely my fault. A part of me would rather sneak away and avoid them, but these people opened their home and welcomed me into their lives. They deserved better, and for Marco’s sake, I needed to continue to prove to them the real reasons I loved their son had nothing to do with his bank account.

Marco squeezed my hand once we walked through the front door.

His parents sat waiting for us in the formal living room of their home. The choice of location to say good-bye didn’t go unnoticed by me. Although still beautifully decorated, it lacked the warmth and the personal touches that the great room possessed, making it the most sterile room in the house.

They sat stiffly, their posture speaking volumes. But in their eyes, I could see the confusion and hurt they must have been feeling toward me.

“Do you want Papa to drive you?” his mother asked quietly.

“No, we’ll take the rental,” Marco replied before sitting us across from them.

I dragged in a deep breath, the motion causing their eyes to focus on me. “Mr. and Mrs. Puglia, thank you for welcoming me into your home. I just want to say…” I swallowed a lump that formed in my throat, making it hard to speak without my nerves shattering my attempt at staying calm. “It’s…um…none of what Clara said is true. I want you to know that…I…I…” Their pitiful gazes caused hot tears of frustration to swell in my eyes.

Fuck—I what?

I have no money, and even though that part was absolutely true, I still don’t want a penny from your son?

I didn’t, but why should these people believe me?

Marco took pity on me and attempted to finish my half-assed apology. “I know everything there is to know about Rebecca, and she about me. There isn’t a part of her I don’t trust. In an attempt to discredit Rebecca, I hope Clara finally showed you her true colors. It’s up to you to come to your conclusions and decide who the true villain is.”

A few long seconds stretched as their minds interpreted his words into their language. His father nodded solemnly, while his mother sniffled with emotion. But, they chose to remain silent, and that spoke volumes. If they truly believed me, they would have admitted so before we walked out of their home.

When Marco realized they had nothing else to add, he turned to me and said, “Ready?”

It was my turn to nod solemnly. I waited uncomfortably to the side as he embraced his parents and spoke his final good-bye in Italian. They whispered their responses, as if I could actually understand what it was they were saying. Marco then took my hand and led us toward the foyer. Just before we opened the heavy front door, his mother called out, “Rebecca.”

Stopping in my tracks, I turned to see her wiping away tears as she walked closer. Surprisingly, she pulled me into an embrace and asked, “Please take care of him?”

“I will, I promise.” She nodded sadly, cupped Marco’s face and kissed his cheek before walking away.

Mr. Puglia followed his wife’s lead and gave me a stiff, awkward hug of his own. “Safe travels,” he said before following his wife, but not before I could see the glassy evidence of tears in his eyes.

She hadn’t spoken one word since we left my house. Even when I asked a direct question, she nodded, shook her head, or shrugged in response.

Once I pulled up to the rental car facility, I shifted into park and turned to face her. “
Bella
,” I said, while anxiously tugging on her hand. “Please, don’t be sad.”

“I can’t help it, Marco. As is, they barely know me. I feel like she single-handedly undid any trust or affection that might have grown within them over this past week. They may never fully trust me, even if they do believe me someday. A seed of doubt regarding my character has been planted, and who knows if it will always nag at them in some way.”

I shut the engine off before responding. “We supplied them with the truth, and you supplied them with the opportunity to get to know the real Rebecca Stanton. I can’t control their thoughts or reactions, but I need to trust them and their judgment. If they choose to believe Clara, well, then that’s their loss. Unfortunately, by doing so, they’ll be losing me as well.”

“I can’t have you cutting off your family because they don’t trust me.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Her deep blue eyes drifted away from mine as she stared into the distance, lost in thought. Not only had Clara planted that seed of doubt with my family, she effectively helped to cultivate the seed of guilt Rebecca already carried within. I’d never forgive Clara for what she’d done, and as sure as I knew that, I also knew I’d give up everyone and everything for Rebecca.

I allowed her to be alone with her thoughts through the mundane, annoying rituals required to travel. In a daze, she moved robotically through check-in, security, and even while sitting at the gate waiting to board, she continued to wallow in her doubts.

With her tucked under my arm, I called Ricky to let him know we were departing soon. In a very quick recap of all the events since our last call, I effectively filled him in as to what happened both good and bad since I proposed.

His anger was palpable even over the thousands of miles that stretched between his cell phone and mine.

“That cunt,” he seethed over the phone.

“I hate that word, Ricky.”

“Too fucking bad. It fits her perfectly. In fact, I take it back. It insults respectable cunts everywhere.” He growled audibly before asking, “Can I talk to her?”

“
Bella
, do you want to speak to Ricky?”

She shook her head, forcing me to say, “Later. We’ll call you once we land in Newark.”

“Okay,” he conceded sadly. “Have a safe flight. Please give her a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

I ended the call, leaned over and placed a quick kiss on her forehead from Ricky, and then another more passionate one on her lips from me.

I slept most of the flight. It was easy to do between the luxurious first-class seats, the affectionate, sexy man beside me, and the mental exhaustion that hit from what had transpired over the past twenty-four hours.

Marco spent most of the time with his arm around my shoulders, sporadically kissing the top of my head while he read his book. I passed on the in-flight meal, but he overruled me with a firm shake of his head toward the flight attendant. I passed on beverages that were offered, but he still requested a soda, a coffee, even a glass of champagne to tempt me with.

I couldn’t say my thoughts were solely consumed with what happened in Florence. Anxiety was growing fast the closer we got to Newark. Any confidence I felt vanished after Clara’s little game. Instead, I was riddled with doubt and regret and guilt…oh, and let’s not forget fear that my family wouldn’t behave maturely once they met him.

“Hey,” he said when he saw I was awake. He took my left hand in his and examined the diamond that sparkled on my finger. “You see this?” Remorse immediately took hold, and I nodded slowly. “This is what we should be focusing on—our future as a couple, just you and me. Okay?”

He was right. How quickly I forgot what I had decided after Clara’s visit. Nothing mattered but him. He kept trying to tell me that, even my heart kept trying to tell me that. It was time to ignore everything else and focus on us.

With newfound determination, I sat up straighter beside him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I love you, and all I need is your approval, your love, your support. Everyone else can go suck a duck.”

“Finally,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Wait, suck a duck?” I shrugged, earning me a kiss on the nose. “So, I can’t wait to see New Jersey.”

“You lie.”

“No, I don’t. Any place that can help to create such an exquisite woman has to be a paradise.”

“Paradise?” I chuckled at his choice of word. “Well, we do have amazing beaches. And I can’t wait to take you to Pepe’s.”

“Pepe’s?”

“Oh, yes. His pizza will put your country’s to shame.”

“I can’t wait. Will you take me to Hooters?”

“Definitely not.” Now it was his turn to chuckle.

“Fine. Will you pack your old Hooters uniform?”

“You want to see me in my uniform?”

“Hell, yes.”

“That I’ll do.” He gave me a stunning smile and a quick kiss. “Marco?”

“Yes,
bella
?”

“I want to apologize in advance for their behavior.”

He tilted his head, amused at my comment. “You don’t know how they’ll behave,
bella
. They may surprise you.”

“I doubt it, and if they hold true to form, please don’t hold it against me. Please promise me you won’t let their reaction affect us.” I carefully chose the same words he used in Florence.

The corner of his mouth quirked up before he responded, “I promise.”

Marco insisted on renting a sleek silver Mustang at the airport. The boyish gleam in his eye made it impossible for me to argue. He navigated the congested roadways that snaked through my home state.

“Take the next exit. Follow Route 33 East. Traffic should be light.” At the sight of brake lights ahead, he’d change course on my command. “Get off here. Let’s take the Parkway for two exits.”

“I feel like I’m playing a video game,” he joked, but the tone of his voice lacked all amusement.

“It is kind of like playing a game. We’d rather drive twenty miles out of our way if it means we avoid stopping and going. I know every back road in the state.”

When we instantly stopped behind a mass of red taillights, he let out a very long stream of profanities in Italian. That was my first indication he was getting nervous. I, on the other hand, was surprisingly calm. It was almost as if a cloud parted within my brain and clarity shone down like a ray of sun.

“Oh, hurry—take that jug handle!”

“
Ma che cazzo…
” He released a heavy sigh and amended with, “What the fuck is a jug handle?”

“It’s a U-turn. See? Follow that sign.”

He grumbled in Italian and veered us toward the exit, stopping abruptly at the red light and causing my body to jerk forward.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to drive? It can be intimidating.”

Cutting his eyes toward me, he frowned at my question. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re driving crazier than Jersey-ans, and you keep cursing in Italian.” I waited for him to come clean, but he just continued to clutch the wheel, ignoring my eyes. “Marco.”

“Okay, I lied. I’m a big fat hypocrite. I told you how to act when you met my parents, yet I’m freaking out over meeting yours.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh, in spite of his angst. I peeled his hand off the leather-wrapped steering wheel and pulled it to my lap. “Honey, it’ll be fine.”

“Now, you lie.”

“Okay, I lied, too.” I regretted trying to prepare for what to expect, especially from Sam. “It doesn’t matter, though. If we’re prepared going in, it’ll be a funny story to tell our kids.”

“Funny?” An obnoxious horn honked impatiently behind us. “
Vaffanculo
,” he shouted into the rearview mirror. “Your people are horn-happy.”

“Welcome to Jersey.”

“Where are they all going?” He flailed a hand toward the cars zooming past us in each and every direction. “What exactly is the rush?”

“Hmm, good question. Most are coming home from work, and some are probably getting ready for Thanksgiving. Americans haven’t mastered the art of slowing down and smelling the flowers.”

“That’s truly a shame.” My eyes studied his handsome profile, his straight nose, and the angle of his jaw. He was so handsome—and all mine. I could predict how my mother and sister would react. I just hoped they didn’t embarrass themselves in the process.

They had no warning that we were minutes away. Just as he didn’t want to alert his family, neither did I. It was a dangerous game to play.

After directing him through the quiet streets of my hometown, I instructed, “Pull into the last driveway on the right.”

“We’re here?”

“Yep,” I said as he pulled behind my mother’s Subaru. “Welcome to my home.”

His eyes scanned the modest colonial already decorated for Christmas. “It’s lovely,
bella
.”

“My mother is a bit of a holiday junkie and proud to be the first decorated house on our street every year. Once the holiday is over, she usually can’t wait to get rid of all evidence, barely making it through New Year’s before taking it all down.”

With a smile, he admired my father’s handiwork of well-placed lawn reindeer, as well as the sacred candles and fresh wreaths that adorned each window. “It’s very pretty.”

The streetlights were just coming on, which meant at any moment, my father’s timers would kick on for his twinkling white lights. I had to hand it to my folks, they did do a nice job every year.

It was much colder in Jersey than it had been in Florence. The telltale sign of white smoke billowing from the fireplace meant winter had arrived. I instantly pictured my dad in his favorite chair, watching the news. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I did truly miss them.

It was a weeknight, the Monday before Thanksgiving. Dad and Mom would be home alone. There was no way to know if my brother would be gracing us with his presence or not. Sam and I were the only two of five still living at home—kind of. My sudden departure and Sam’s recent engagement meant my parents were feeling the effects of empty-nest syndrome sooner than they wanted.

Seeing my house for the first time in months made me instantly homesick. Offering up a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be short-lived, I turned toward him with a bright smile and asked, “Ready?”

He shook his head before pulling my face to his. After a few firm kisses, he released me and said, “Now, I’m ready.” 

We decided to leave the bags in the car for now. My preference would be to go to a hotel. Sharing my childhood bedroom would in no way compare to staying in Marco’s guesthouse. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like my town had luxury hotels at our disposal. The reality of a motel was even scarier than forcing Marco to stare at my Bon Jovi poster while attempting to have sex in my squeaky bed.

In a grand show of role reversal, I reached for Marco’s hand and led him to my front door. He tentatively returned my smile as my finger pressed the doorbell. The flash of a diamond reminded me it would probably be a good idea to remove my ring until I at least broke the news I had a boyfriend first.

My mother opened the door with a smile that instantly turned to an openmouthed gasp. “Rebecca!”

“Hi, Mom. Can we come in?”