Page 5 of Torrid Love
“There are no words to describe how amazing it was. I’m now armed with even more cutting-edge skills. My head is filled with ideas. I can’t wait to put them all into practice. Thanks again for pushing me to apply and…” she clears her throat, “thanks for helping me get there.”
I detect a touch of shyness in her voice. Even after all these years, Dom doesn’t accept gifts easily.
“It would’ve been a shame if you had missed out,” I tell her.
“Yeah, well, it cost an arm and a leg.”
I paid for it.
I didn’t care how many times she protested. She was going to be part of that group of eight.
“It was worth it?”
“Absolutely!” I hear the joy and contentment in her voice.
“That’s all that matters.”
“Thanks again.”
Dom is so freaking talented, it’s ridiculous. She makes good money, but she’s still a freelancer and she doesn’t have a previous multi-millionaire career to fall on. When the opportunity came for a handful of professionals to be part of an advanced month-long video production program offered by Pepperdine University’s Communication Division, I pushed her to apply. Since the training started in LA—New York was next—and ended in London, I nudged her to stay in Europe and play tourist. She didn’t fight me.
“How was it seeing your mom and cousins?”
We’ve been relying on text since she left because the time difference was challenging. I’ve also been catching the highlights of her trip on social media, but it doesn’t compare to hearing all the details from her.
She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t miss living an ocean apart from my mom.” No chances my mother would’ve ever won a Mother of The Year award. Neither would Dom’s. “Seeing my paternal grandparents is always weird. Are they still family when your father abandoned you as a kid?” It’s a rhetorical question. “It was awkward. The language barrier doesn’t make communicating easy since my German is rusty. And how many times are they going to apologize for my father’s behavior? Their only son and he turns out to be a disappointment.”
“Parents aren’t always biological, Dom. You and I both know it.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” she sneers.
Despite all the rotten and shitty things she’d gone through in her childhood, she’d always managed to maintain a cheerful facade. She knows how to keep her pain buried deep. I, on the other hand, was a hellion growing up. Some called me the devil’s child. With good reasons. I wore my anger on my chest like armor. It scared the shit out of most people. Not Dom. She’s always accepted every part of me and she always knew how to turn my foul moods around… well, until recently that is. Lately our bickering gets me all riled up.
“You turned out great,” I remind her.
“Thanks to you. And so did you.”
“Damn right I did.”
“Roderick Wolfe. Always Mr. Humble.”
“I’m a Leo and a former rock star. I don’t even know how to spell the word.”
“No, you don’t,” she laughs.
I love it when she’s lighthearted like this.
Maybe we’re back to being Dom and Rod.
“Other than family reunions, what kind of wild and reckless adventures were you on? European men must be grieving your departure.”
Don’t ask me why I’d dig my own grave by poking into her love life. It’s not like I want to know she’s been with other guys.
“Reckless adventures? As in vacation flings?”
“Yeah.”
She laughs.
