Page 74 of Choosing Hope
She smirks. “Are you causing trouble, Carlo?”
He licks his lips, turning his focus back on me, and raising the heat in the room as he does.
“Nah, just having a little fun. I won’t allow him to smash the place up,” he lifts three fingers up, “scout’s honor.”
Fucking hell, he’s sexy. Just watching him deliver his little speech is turning me on. I glance at Claudette, a smile dancing on my lips.
“You’re a very brave woman,” she murmurs conspiratorially. “We will charge your account for any damage, Mr. Moretti,” she replies pointedly before stepping back. “It sounds like you’re in for a fun night. Enjoy your evenings.”
Chapter Eighteen
Spencer
My flight landed at Heathrow Airport at nine in the evening. An hour late. I hate being late. Having been drinking since the moment I sat down in my plane seat, I’m more than a little buzzed. If I weren’t sitting up front in first class, I’m certain the flight stewards would have cut me off hours ago.
My driver, Tony, is in the VIP pickup area. The moment he sees me; he leaps from the car to open the rear door.
“Spencer,” he says in a curt, but professional greeting.
“Hey, Tony, thanks for picking me up atshort notice,” I reply.
I slide onto the leather seats, allowing my head to flop back onto the rest behind me.
“Where are we going?” he asks.
“Locked. Please.”
I don’t miss his scathing stare in the rearview mirror.
Needing to block out these negative voices, I glance around me, wishing the area in the car designed for a mini bar was stocked.
Instead, I sit back, trying to get some rest before the stressful evening I have ahead. I hate bailing out on Travis but if I have to choose between being his business partner and resolving things with my wife, there’s no competition.
Before I left Dubai, I sent Sophie a text to explain I was returning to England early but needed a few days to sort things out. It’s time to trust in my relationship with her. Visions of Carlo and Sophie have troubled my mind all night. This is what she’s lived with for years.What the fuck have I put her through?I assured her Carlo would stay with her indefinitely and also told her if she needed me or wanted a further explanation, she could call anytime. Her simple response has troubled me ever since.
What the fuck does a heart emoji even mean in this situation?
Upon arrival at Locked, I head straight to the bar. The server takes one look at me and reaches for my usual tipple. I neck it straight down and return the glass to the bar more heavily than usual. The noise draws the server’s eyes.
“Again,” I say sharper than I intended.
Once served, I stand staring at the glass for a moment.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” A familiar feminine voice sings beside me.
“Not tonight, Kalie. I’m not in the mood.” I reply without turning my head.
“Fair enough. Anything I can do to help?” she inquires.
“You can lose my number,” I snap, and pick my glass up, throwing the liquid back again and enjoying the burning sensation as it travels down my throat.
I catch the server’s eye, nodding down at my glass. He reads my gesture correctly and turns to pick up the bottle, splashing a healthier measure into the glass this time.
“Is this your not-so-subtle way of saying we’re through?” Kalie demands.
I turn to analyze her. As always, she looks flawless. She’s wearing pink today; it suits her. She looks classical, but the dress is so short that if she bent over, she’d show everything she has. These are the sort of details that make her too harsh.
Kalie is a spoiled little rich girl, her father, whose path I’ve crossed for business reasons occasionally, would be horrified if he saw her now. He wants her to settle down and have a family. But I could never imagine her doing it. There’s no softness about her. Nothing motherly. Something clicks in my mind, she’s just like my mother was, hard.
