Page 138 of Ache for You (Slow Burn 3)
“So you won’t have to crash the gig after all!”
“We, I think you meant.”
He sniffs. “I deny all knowledge of your ludicrous scheme and would happily tell that to any concerned authorities.”
“Puh. You know I would’ve talked you into it.”
“Of course,” he says blithely. “But only because I’m frightened you’ll clobber me. I was there when you rearranged Satan’s nose, if you recall. How is he, by the way?”
“Still gay. And in love with someone named Giancarlo.”
“Giancarlo,” purrs Jenner. “How delicious. I think I’m in love with him, too. Pity I’ll never meet him. I could avenge your honor by breaking them up.”
“Oh, you’ll probably meet him. Brad has decided he’s moving to Florence to be with the new boy toy. And he’s hanging on to me like a bad head cold. I’m sure if I told him I was going to Milan for the show, he and Gio would be on the next train out.”
After a moment, Jenner chuckles. “Well, no one can say your life is boring.”
I exhale and sit in my office chair, feeling as if I’ve aged a decade in the past month. “I could do with a little boring right about now, let me tell you.”
“What’s new with the wicked stepmother and your doggie stepsisters?”
“It turns out she isn’t so wicked. God, I have a lot to catch you up on. When can I see you?”
He tells me the name of the hotel he’s staying in, then insists I get ready for Matteo’s show in his suite because he doesn’t trust I’ll do my hair right or accessorize properly. It sounds like a fabulous idea, so I agree.
I’ll need the moral support. Tomorrow will be two week
s since I’ve seen Matteo, and I’m more worried than I want to admit about how it will be between us. I miss him so much it feels like a limb has been cut off, but I have no idea how he feels or what he’s thinking. He hasn’t contacted me since the night he walked out.
I’m terrified he’s changed his mind about us.
Even more terrified than I am of him breaking my heart, which says a lot.
“Stop fidgeting.”
“Hurry up! I’ll be late!”
Standing behind me in the gleaming marble bathroom in his hotel suite, Jenner carefully affixes the comb into my upswept hair, then steps back to survey his handiwork. He nods in satisfaction. “Half-up, half-down. Sophisticated but sexy. Congratulations, you’re perfect.”
“I’m also sweating through this friggin’ dress,” I mutter, flapping my arms in an effort to cool myself. The air conditioning is blowing right on me from a vent in the bathroom ceiling, but my body has decided it’s time for another searing hot flash.
I know it’s hormonal. I’ll be seeing Matteo in a short while, and my damn uterus is throwing a rave party complete with flashing lights and disco music. I’m a wreck.
Jenner takes me by the shoulders. “Just breathe, darling. Like so.”
He inhales slowly though his nose, then blows the breath out through pursed lips.
“I know how to breathe.”
“Clearly you don’t. You’re hyperventilating.” He demonstrates another dramatic intake of breath through his flared nostrils, nodding at me to follow his lead.
“Ugh. Fine.” I breathe as theatrically as possible, mimicking him. “Oh,” I say several calming breaths later. “That actually works.”
He smiles. “Now we’re going to practice walking.”
“Walking? I already know how to do that!”
He arches an eyebrow in disagreement. “When wearing couture, one doesn’t simply stomp around as if mashing grapes underfoot. One glides.” He floats away from me as if on a cloud, his lower legs moving but his upper body completely still. It’s quite the effect.
