Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Shame about that sculpture.
Chapter Twenty-Two
DANTE
Brianna stumbled from the bedroom, sitting down heavily in the chair across from me. I sipped my coffee and peered at her over the rim of my cup.
She was a total disaster. Her hair was everywhere, mascara smudged under her eyes, and her face was pale. I had managed to get her dress off last night and slide one of my shirts over her while she attempted to take mine off, trying to be sexy and alluring. She came across as drunk and adorable instead.
“You gonna—hiccup—ravish me with your big—hiccup—rocking Richard—hiccup—old man?”
“I highly doubt that, Little Bee.”
“But you are soooo sexy—hiccup—like a tiger in the—” she tried snapping her fingers, but it was a lost cause “—what do you call that?”
“Jungle?” I offered.
“Yesh. The jungle. Flipping sexiest cat there. I want you.”
Then she passed out.
The girl snored when she was drunk. And talked in her sleep. About me, mostly. She groped a lot as well. I should have been annoyed, angry with her behavior. But again, all I felt was amusement and worry about the size of the hangover she would have in the morning.
“Coffee?” I asked. “Some breakfast?”
She lifted her head, opening one bloodshot, bleary eye. “No, thank you.” She ran a hand through her chaotic hair. “What happened?”
“After you called Richard Dick Wiggles, sprayed your wine all over him, me, and the table, and dissolved into hysterical giggles, you mean?”
If possible, her face went even whiter. “Oh God. I didn’t.”
“Oh, you did.”
She stared at me in horrified silence. Then she swallowed. “I think I need that coffee now.”
I poured a cup and pushed it her way. She took a few sips. “Should I pack my bags now, or can I go back to the villa and get my cat first?”
“Little Bee.”
She glanced up, her eyes sorrowful.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She played with her coffee cup. “How furious are you?”
“I’m in too much shock to be furious. You spewed wine all over Richard, made fun of his name, and suddenly, you’re his best friend.” I shook my head, still processing everything that had happened.
“Turns out, Richard has a daughter he is incredibly fond of who went to university in Toronto. You reminded him of her. I waited for an explosion after the wine, and he laughed. Laughed. I have never heard the man laugh.”
I recalled my shock.
“You have a daughter? I didn’t know that.”
“There is lots about me you don’t know. I don’t talk about my private life.” He glanced at Brianna, who was frozen in place, equally shocked. He patted her hand.
“Don’t worry about it, dear girl. My Daphne gets nervous and blurts things out as well. When she is mad at me, which is often, she comes up with some very, ah, unique variations of my name. I find it quite amusing. I think you two would get on very well.”
“Your suit,” she whispered.
“Nothing a little water and a dry cleaner can’t fix. Now tell me how you two met.”
“Oh God, I didn’t.”
“No, you gave a PG version, which, I have to admit, was much less entertaining. Apparently you found me irresistible, and I was obsessed with you and couldn’t leave you behind.”
“Oh. Well, that is kinda the truth.”
I winked. “I am obsessed, so yes. I don’t think you found me too hard to resist at first. But I grew on you.”
“Like a fungus,” she muttered.
I grinned. There she was.
She took another sip of her coffee, waiting.
“After that, the two of you got along like a house on fire. You asked about his daughter, he showed you pictures, you got him to laugh and share stories about her.” I shook my head. “I have no idea how, but you charmed Richard. You charm everyone, Little Bee. He adored you. Both of you drank too much wine. We closed down the restaurant. He even insisted on us attending a private showing happening tomorrow night, as his guests. He’s already sent the information this morning.” I shook my head. “And the sculpture is mine. He called the son last night and told him I was the only person he should sell to. I spoke to him after and called my lawyer. The funds were transferred first thing. The sale is complete.”
“So, everything is okay?”
I leaned over, brushing the hair away from her face. “Aside from the headache I’m sure you have, everything is fine. But no more nervous drinking.”
“I was trying to be so good. I thought if I didn’t talk, I wouldn’t say it. I kept sipping my wine so I had something to do. But then he said it. I think it was as if the floodgates opened.”
“Pretty much,” I replied. “You were off to the races then.”
She passed a hand over her head and smiled ruefully. “Sorry.”
The movement caused her shirt sleeve to fall. The bruises on her upper arm were a deep, vivid purple this morning. I glared at them, my anger instantly flaring. She followed my gaze, pulling on the sleeve and shaking her head. “It’s fine.”