Turn Towards the Sun Book Two: After the Rain (12 page)

Gathering my things together, I glance at my husband who is watching me with a tense look on his face. I stroke his hand.

“I love you, Ava. No matter what happens, just remember that.” Vulnerability pours out of him. I’ve never seen him like this.

“Enzo, please, I know you love me and I love you,” I reply, trying to soothe him. Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.” I just hope I’m right.

He leans over and kisses my cheek. As the plane pulls up at the gate, I notice a cool demeanor wash over him. Ah, the return of Mr. Stoic. The tough exterior that Enzo reserves for business is definitely on display, with not a hint of vulnerability. I decide that the best thing I can do is to adopt a similar show.

“Ava, find your sunglasses.”

“But it’s nine o’clock at night, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but if we are met by the
media, it’s best to have sunglasses on,” he advises me. “It’s not only to deal with the camera flashes, but to hide your expression. Trust me on this.”

Here I am again, stepping back into some fantasy world where people give a shit about my life. How do celebrities deal with this all the time? With a sigh, I pull out my sunglasses.

We step off the plane and walk briskly towards the baggage claim area, knowing that any waiting paparazzi will be on the other side of the security zone. Enzo holds my hand firmly in his. Turning the corner, I’m surprised to see a relatively quiet terminal. Grayson walks towards us, accompanied by another man, and extends his hand to Enzo.

“Hello, sir,” Grayson says, offering a warm smile. “We’ve checked the airport, and it’s clear. Mrs. Milano, good to see you again.”

The stranger pulls Enzo aside and whispers something to him. He nods and then grabs my hand again. “Ava, this is one of my attorneys, Alex Bevacqua.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Milano,” the man says. “I assure you everything is under control.”

I nod, pleased to be met by friendly faces. From his name, I can tell that Alex is Italian, but not from his looks. With honey brown hair and hazel eyes, he is a tall man with a strapping build. His youthful face and casual clothes make me wonder how old he really is.

“Sir, I hired two extra bodyguards for you and Mrs. Milano. One of them is waiting at the baggage claim for your things and the other is waiting in the car for us. They’ve been briefed on the situation and are well aware of what to look out for,” Grayson explains.

I feel nervous again. Why do we have to have more bodyguards? Are we in danger?

Enzo feels me tense and explains, “The media can be very demanding and people have gotten hurt before. I asked Grayson to hire some more security to make sure we are covered at all times.”

“Okay,” I mumble.

“Also, Alex announced that I would have a press conference about the book in the morning, so that has gone a long way in getting them to back off, hence the quiet scene here tonight.” Confidence has returned to Enzo’s voice, which comforts me.

“Will Mrs. Milano join you for the conference, Enzo?” Alex asks.

“No,” he replies at the exact same time that I say, “Yes.”

Enzo’s expression hardens. “No, you won’t,” he tells me. “I will not have you subjected to that.”

“Don’t you think that if I’m there it will be less interesting for them to try to catch me alone?” What does he think I’m going to do – sit home and watch it on TV?

“She has a valid point, Enzo,” Alex speaks up. I notice right away that he uses my husband’s first name. There is no ‘Mr. Milano’ or ‘sir’ formality.

Enzo shoots an unpleasant look in his direction. “No.”

“You’re not being reasonable,” I argue. “We have to do this together. That’s what we said we would do. I’m with you one hundred percent, so I’m coming.” I stare him straight in the eye. There is no chance of me backing down.

“This isn’t your decision to make. This is my problem and I will handle it. I don’t want you to have to sit through the things that I’m going to be asked. You’ve heard enough.”

I throw my hands in the air, completely frustrated with the man. I thought we had reached an understanding on the subject. Without saying another word, I stomp off in the direction of the doors. All three men quickly follow.

“Ava, slow down right now,” Enzo calls. He’s pissed and I don’t care.

“No.” I keep walking, picking up speed.

Grayson appears next to me. “Mrs. Milano, let me walk with you.”

“Stop calling me that, dammit!”

He pauses before catching up with me again. I glance over my shoulder at Enzo, who is beyond angry at this point, and I can tell from his face that he can’t decide whether to chase me.

I keep my stride, but then I feel a hand pull at my arm, stopping me in my tracks. He decided to chase.

“Stop it, Ava,” Enzo urges.

“No, I want to go home. Now.”

“We are going home,” he replies. “You need to stop being so dramatic right now.”

“How I behave is not
your
decision to make,” I argue, crossing my arms in defiance.

His eyes burn with anger, and I know he’s trying not to lose his temper. Leaning in close, he says, “I swear you are trying me.”

“What are you gonna do? Spank me?”

He raises his eyebrows, but remains silent as Grayson and Alex join us.

Grayson breaks the uncomfortable silence. “The car is right outside, if you’d like to go now, sir.”

Enzo looks at me. “Yes, let’s go, if madam is ready.”

Sarcasm? Nice.

I stride to the car without opening my mouth and sit sullenly in the back next to Alex, across from my grumpy husband. Though I don’t want to have another fight with him, I’m not going to be shut out from something this major in his life.

The car pulls up outside our house. We called Cassie and Chris to make sure they knew there was a chance the media could show up. Enzo spoke directly with Chris which made me happy not to deal with Cassie’s questions. Enzo and I wait in the car while Grayson and Alex walk the perimeter of the yard. Once everyone is satisfied that we are alone, Enzo says goodnight to the two men.

“I’ll be ready at seven,” he tells Alex.

As Grayson and Alex leave the house, I start to head towards the bedroom.

“Where do you think you’re going, Ava?”

“To bed,” I call back. “I’m tired and I don’t want to fight with you.”

Just then, Cassie and Chris come into the living room. “What’s going on?” Cassie asks.

“Not now, Cass,” I say.

She puts her hands up and backs away, slightly. Enzo looks at her and something in his eyes causes her to grab Chris and retreat back to their suite.

“We’re not done talking about this yet,” Enzo says.

“Yes, we are.”

Enzo walks towards me and grabs my arm, pulling me against his body. “You are so damn stubborn. Why won’t you listen to me?” he asks. “Don’t you think I know what’s best? I don’t want you involved in this mess.”

“I’m already involved, Enzo.”

“To some extent, yes, but you don’t have to sit through the dirty details. I won’t have it,” he insists.

“Granted, I’ve never been through a scandal, and I don’t know how many you’ve been through, but every single time there is one, who is there, standing beside the disgraced athlete or philandering politician? The wife – that’s who. She supports him. They stand together, no matter how bad the situation.”

Enzo gazes into my eyes and surprises me by kissing me passionately. I give in to it, despite my defiance.

“You’re right.” he says, with resignation in his tone. “You’re so right. I just want to protect you, but I can’t. And if you’re with me, it will make it much easier to handle the media going forward. I just don’t want to do this.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t want to either. Trust me, I’m not excited about hearing the details of the sexual games my husband played with someone else, but I have to. It’s just the way it is.”

I have to say that I’m impressed with my sudden burst of clarity and maturity.
Look at you, Ava, acting all grown up.

He nods his head.

“Can we please go to bed now?” I ask. “I just want to shower and try to rest before we have to face the day tomorrow.”

“Yes, let’s go to bed.”

After showering, we climb into our comfy bed where I sink into his arms.

“You still amaze me. I’m so glad you’re in my life,” Enzo says.

I am silent, hoping my strength will be enough to handle what will come.

****

“Mr. Milano! Mrs. Milano!”

Photographers and journalists shout out to us as we enter the building where the press conference will be held. Shielding my face as best I can, I’m thankful for Enzo’s sunglasses tip. We manage to get inside safely, guided by Grayson, Alex, and two other men.

“Come this way, Enzo,” Alex says, guiding us down a hallway and into a small room. We are in a downtown Phoenix hotel and one of the ballrooms is teeming with press, who wait voraciously to hear my husband’s comments on this ridiculous book.

During the drive here, Enzo composed his thoughts on how he would address the press. My job is to sit there, and look pretty and supportive. Oh, and stoic. In preparation, I decided to go with chic, sophisticated and demure, so I’m wearing a gray sheath dress and my hair is up in a conservative bun. Knowing my picture will be all over the news, I think I chose a suitable look.

As I watch Enzo discuss the conference with Alex, his face creases with anger. Moments before we are scheduled to walk out, I watch his demeanor change again. An aloof and intimidating façade falls over him. It’s amazing really. I neutralize my expression as best I can.

“Ready, amore?” Enzo’s tone is sweet, even though his expression does not change.

“As much as I’m going to be,” I sigh, taking his hand.

The doors open and we walk through. A thousand cameras flash at once and the intense noise of the reporters’ voices is deafening. I want to turn and run, but I stay grounded, anchored by the security of Enzo’s hand in mine. We take our seats at the table, surrounded by Alex and the two other attorneys.

Alex starts things off. “Ladies and gentlemen of the press, thank you for joining us today. Mr. Milano will make a statement and then he will attempt to answer any questions you may have.” Alex is smooth and poised. This is clearly not his first rodeo.

Enzo quietly clears his throat. “Miss Carlyle has written a book that shares intimate details between consenting adults. As many of you know, I prefer to keep my relationships private and not use them for personal gain. It is unclear to me why Miss Carlyle chose to share these personal details. However, I will not retaliate in a similar fashion.”

A reporter calls out, “Mr. Milano, is it true you participate in a BDSM lifestyle?”

What the hell is BDSM?

Enzo’s face tenses. “No, I do not. That was a very short, experimental period of my life.”

Another one calls out, “But is the book true?”

My husband squeezes my hand. “Many of the events are factual. However, I cannot verify the accuracy of Miss Carlyle’s perception of the events.”

Her perception of the events?

A woman speaks. “Miss Carlyle states that your relationship with her lasted over a year. How did you avoid publicity during that time?”

A year?

“I was not in a relationship with Miss Carlyle,” Enzo asserts. “I had a consensual physical arrangement with her, nothing more. I avoided publicity because it wasn’t a relationship in the traditional sense.”

A consensual physical arrangement?
This just keeps getting better.

“Have you spoken to Miss Carlyle since the book came out?” shouts a man at the back of the room.

“No, I was on a trip with my wife.” He practically spits the words at them.

“Will you speak to her?” a woman asks.

“Not intentionally,” my stoic husband responds.

Another reporter calls out, “How does your wife feel about the book?”

He squeezes my hand. “Mrs. Milano will not comment.”

The noise level rises as the reporters protest against my silence.

I lean over and whisper in Enzo’s ear. His expression hardens, but he nods. I clear my throat and lean towards the microphone. A hush falls over the room.

“I support my husband completely,” I say, clearly and slowly. “This situation happened many years ago, and it’s unfortunate that it did not remain a private matter, as it should have. It is disappointing to me that someone would use something so personal to gain attention and infamy. However, the past is the past, and I am not concerned with things that happened prior to my relationship with my husband.”

A thousand cameras flash, but the reporters do not ask any additional questions. Alex looks over at me and grins. Enzo smiles at me with a warm, loving expression.

Alex stands to address the group. “If there are no further questions, we will call an end to this press conference. Thank you for attending.”

As soon as we are ushered out of the room and back into the small waiting area, Enzo scoops me into his arms and twirls me around.