Mi Carino (16 page)

“
You think?”

“
Nah, I made that up but you feel better. Don’t you?”

Marcella snatched the sofa pillow from under her and started hitting Susan with it. Susan laughed until she dropped over to her side and ducked out of the reach of Marcella’s swing. “He’s a jerk, babe. All men are. Think it’s wired in their DNA or something.” Susan said wiping at her tears of laughter. “You had a good time with him. If he lets it stand at that, he’s a jerk. Not worth it. Okay? Don’t sweat it. I’m just glad you got in touch with your inner whore again. I hate being the only slut around here. Me and Sam were going to do an intervention for you.”

“
You make me sick,” she said, dropping her head on Susan’s shoulder.

“
I hate you too.” Susan said, snuggling her.

Diego unfastened his cuff and rolled up his left sleeve. Suit jacket and coat cast aside, he strolled from the window. His eyes gave one last sweep of the room.

“
What do you think?” Lance asked, hands behind his back. Diego could feel his stare. He sensed his anxious temperament. The air had been charged with it. The question lingered for another undecided minute before he cast Lance a look. He had tired of the hotel room. If he had to stay the next few weeks, he needed a place more to his liking. “It’ll do.”

“
Great. I was about out of options. You shot down the last six.”

Diego turned toward the window to gaze upon the turquoise waves glistening over the ocean. The
is
beach house had walls of glass. He could see the ocean from every room. It reminded him of his home in Spain. “Have you located her yet?”

Lance cleared his throat. The hesitation drew Diego’s attention. His friend looked him in the eye when he spoke. “She’s heard about your actions. She’s flying back into the country. I suggest we conclude business before you see her,” Lance said, stepping up behind him. “Unless you want me to arrange for the meeting to take place sooner?”

“
No. She knows I’m here. That’s enough,” Diego sighed. He stepped away from the window, his eyes going to the phone. His mind again conjured up images of Marcella, and the short time he spent with her.
Where was she on this cloudy day
?

“
Have my things brought over.”

Lance gave a curt nod. He walked over to the single chair in the room and plucked his coat, shaking it out before slipping it on. He cast Diego a parting look. “One more thing. The order you placed will arrive here tomorrow. As for the other matter, it’s been tended to as well.”

Diego tapped his finger on the phone, eyes fixed to the base and buttons. His attorney and friend descended the steps without another word. He was alone. Something he preferred, until now. He slipped his hand inside his trouser pocket and removed the crumbled paper he carried around with him for the past few days. He gripped the phone in his hand, intent on making the call. Then he let it go. He stepped away, easing the paper back in his pocket, deciding instead on the stocked bar he knew had to be somewhere nearby. Maybe he would stand on the deck of his beach house and wait for rain.

The customer’s gaze finally left the oil painting dating over three hundred years old and returned to her. His slack features wrinkled. His nose pinched and he gave her what she imagined to be his version of a smile. “I’ll take it.”

Marcella nearly jumped in the air and clicked her heels. Instead she kept her cool. She looked back at Susan who lingered near Sam’s desk. She gave her a wink and Susan sashayed over. “Ms. Sands is the gallery manager. She’ll be of great help to you.”

With a deep sigh of relief, she discreetly withdrew. Earlier she placed three calls to Katchner’s office and he hadn’t answered or returned her calls
.
She would indeed have to make the trip out to see him.

“
Marcella, Garrett’s upset. He said to call him when you get a chance. I think it’s that douche again.” Sam announced.

Marcella pointed a silencing finger at Sam. Two customers walked in. There was no time to deal with Garrett’s broken heart she instead approached the new prospective buyers. “Welcome to Garrison’s. Please look around, and if you need anything Sam will assist you.”

Before Sam could respond she turned and left. Marcella couldn’t wait to get off her feet. She hurried for her office chair. Just as she crossed under the doorway she heard her cell phone buzzing. It vibrated across her desk. She reached it in time.

“
Hello?” she breathed not recognizing the number.

“
Have you eaten?”

“
Diego?”

“
I want to see you.”

“
What? Now? I’m at work.” She checked her watch. It was again midday. She played hooky with him because of the flower stunt but she had plenty to tend to. “I can’t.”

“
Ah, not familiar with the English term ‘can’t’. Sounds too much like ‘won’t’. So is that it, Marcella? You won’t see me again?”

She sighed.

“
Question for you. Why today? I was free on Saturday, free on Sunday. No call?”

He didn’t respond.

“
It’s a bad time Diego. Okay?”

“
Then dinner?”

“
Maybe dinner’s not a good idea.”

“
You rather I not call anymore?”

Marcella chewed on her bottom lip. “I didn’t say that. But it’s all mystery with you. I just… I don’t know why you are so secretive.”

“
How am I secretive? Because three days went by and we didn’t speak? Forgive me,
nena
. If you prefer, I will call you daily.”

“
Fine. Fine. Dinner, we can have dinner.”

“
Gracias,
Marcella. I will see you soon.”

He hung up. She lowered the phone, and then checked the number. Her heart raced and her blood sizzled just from the spicy deep notes delivered in his voice. She wanted to see him, and smell him. The craving made her skin prickle and stomach flutter.

“
Mr. Pachelli bought two paintings. Very well done, Marcella.” Susan smiled waving a signed bill of sale. Marcella dropped the phone in her front sweater pocket. “Good. Have you spoken to Garrett?” she said, turning so Susan didn’t start to ‘read’ her emotions again. Whatever this thing with Diego proved to be she didn’t want to discuss or analyze it or talk herself out of it.

“
I spoke to him but of course he only wants to talk to you. Bailey hurt him bad. They’re really over.”

“
I’ll call him.”

“
So what do you think? Should we close early today, go to the mall and celebrate by spending Garrett’s money,” she joked.

Marcella shook her head, smiling. “Let’s get back to work.”

Marcella finished up paperwork during her wait, and made several more calls to Edward Katchner’s office to no avail. She perused the top level of the gallery to inspect fixtures recently installed by Sam when she heard the bell chime over the door—a soft echo through the silence of the closed gallery. He arrived an hour later than she expected. Sam and Susan had already left. She walked toward the end of the gallery loft where she could see the lobby. Diego strolled in confident, dressed neatly in a charcoal grey cashmere trench. The front of it parted to reveal his tailored suit. From her elevated position, she observed him curiously as he moved about the gallery. He inspected each of their pieces with mild interest.

Then he stopped. As if he sensed her. His head lifted and so did penetrating soulful eyes. A smile tipped the left corner of his mouth, sly and seductive. He dropped his hands in his pockets, parting his coat, as he held her gaze.

“
On my way,” she said.

“
No hurry,” he mouthed back up to her.

Marcella hurried anyway. She went down the stairs into her office and filed away the last of her paperwork. She grabbed her coat, and with purse in hand she had to force herself to remain calm. Diego waited for her to turn off lights and draw the blinds. They left together, in his chauffeured car. The ride had been disappointing so far. He spent most of it on the phone, cutting her sexy looks. The call ended and she finally had his undivided attention. And the man wanted to know everything about her day. He listened intently to her excitement over Katchner’s discovery. Marcella could tell he understood most of what she said. Diego was however a man of few words, so his touch to her cheek with the brush of the back of his hand and his gentle massage of the nape of her neck as she spoke was so pleasing. She regretted the break in their connection when the chauffeured car finally drove to his house.

It was a very cozy three level beach house off the cliffs of Delgado. He helped her from the car and escorted her to the door. She entered the warmth and darkness a bit nervous. She’d agreed to dinner. A meal at his home promised a bit more. “This is nice. I’m sure it gets pretty cold out here in the winter.” She walked through his place, absorbing every detail no matter how small.

“
Are you cold?” he asked.

“
No. I’m fine.” Marcella shed her coat and handed it to him. He left her alone just long enough to secure their coats in the closet. The space and distance gave her a little room to breathe. She wanted to let her eyes take it all in to glean more about the man. Her hopes were quickly dashed. The decorator captured a neat and orderly setting but nothing personal. The floors were as polished and bland as the few unpainted inner walls because his home seemed to be made mostly of glass. None of the chairs and sofas looked as if anyone had ever sat on them. No pictures, plants, hell she didn’t even see a television. Marcella rubbed her palms together. Turning, nibbling on her bottom lip she noticed Diego had chosen a painting of a red stripe on a white background with a black frame. It was a stark contrast against the white, almost like blood. She felt empty looking at it. Art reflected a person. He put nothing of himself in this choice. The painting probably had been a stock piece of artwork he never even glanced at.

His voice was deep but whisper smooth right behind her. “Hungry?”

“
Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come back in.”

Diego stood so close she took on his body heat, knocking off the chill that cloaked her while staring at the painting. Maybe she couldn’t throw his confidence like he did hers. From a simple look, his arrogance convinced her that he’d have her legs in the air pointed east to west when the opportunity presented itself.

“
Admiring your artwork.”

Diego’s gaze shifted to the painting.

“
Interesting choice. What does it represent for you?”

Diego shrugged. “Strength.”

“
It does seem bold, mysterious, sort of like you,” she said.

“
How am I mysterious?” Diego asked.

“
Oh I don’t know, where were you born, do you have any siblings? Ever been married?”