How Much I Feel - Marie Force Page 0,44
indicates familiarity, and she homed right in on that.”
“Our generation is far less formal than theirs.”
“True, but she sees far more than I want her to. She always has. My mother is the same way.”
I turn toward her, more intrigued by her with every minute I spend with her. “What do you suppose they saw today?”
Carmen rolls her lip between her teeth as she studies me intently.
I begin to worry that I have sauce on my face or spinach in my teeth, but I can’t look away from her to check.
“They saw that I’m interested in a man for the first time since I lost Tony.”
Her confession touches the deepest part of me, and I lean toward her, needing to kiss those sweet lips.
She casts a wary glance at the restaurant. “Not here.”
I bite back a groan. “Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s take a ride out to the beach.”
I pull into traffic while she directs me to the southbound freeway toward Miami Beach. While I drive, she fiddles with the radio until she lands on a station playing classic rock.
She turns up the volume on “Hot Blooded,” and when she catches me watching her, she smiles. “I grew up on classic rock. It was all my dad wanted to listen to at home and in the car.”
“I’m a classic-rock kinda guy myself. What’s your favorite band?” If we talk about music, I won’t think about how I almost kissed her, right? Will she let me kiss her when we get to the beach? God, I hope so. I’m dying to kiss her.
“It’s a toss-up between Fleetwood Mac and the Eagles.”
“Two of my top three.”
“What’s the third?” she asks.
“The Stones. I saw them last year in New York. It was a dream come true.”
“I can’t believe the way Mick prances around the stage in his seventies.”
“I know, and even after having heart surgery, he’s still at it. Have you seen them?”
“Not yet, but I’d love to.”
I file away that information for future reference. “Who else have you seen?”
“The Eagles came to Miami last year. They were so good. Glenn Frey’s son Deacon is touring with them now, and he was awesome.”
“I heard about that. Who else are you dying to see?”
We talk about music and bands and shows we’ve seen as we navigate heavy traffic on the way to the beach. It’s a welcome distraction after what she confessed to me. I want to kiss her and hold her and spend more time with her. If you’d have told me I’d be having those thoughts so soon after the disaster with Ginger, I would’ve laughed. But that was before I knew Carmen Giordino existed in this world.
While I drive, she works on her phone, posting the photos she took of me at the restaurant, enjoying authentic Cuban and Italian food at Giordino’s. Traffic is slow, which is how I manage to catch her frowning as her fingers fly over the screen. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Her tense posture and expression say otherwise. “Tell me.”
“Just some asshole comments on the photos from earlier.”
My heart sinks. “What kind of comments?”
“Bringing up the shit from New York, but don’t worry about it. I deleted the comments and blocked the accounts.”
I’m disheartened to hear that the bullshit followed me south, but what did I expect? “In the digital age, you can run, but you cannot hide.”
“Don’t sweat it. We’ll keep adding to the narrative, and over time we’ll make them forget all about what happened in New York.”
I wish I was as convinced as she is that people will forget such a juicy scandal.
Carmen takes a call from her cousin Maria that she puts on speaker. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I had a thought about your project,” Maria says.
I assume that means me.
“What’s that?”
“Remember my friend Desiree from high school?”
“Oh, she works for NBC 6 now, right?”
“Yep. I could hit her up about doing a feature story on the pediatric neurosurgeon who offered to work pro bono at the clinic so he could get to know his new city.”
Carmen glances at me, and even though courting attention is contrary to my nature, I’m well aware it’s going to be necessary if I have any prayer of repairing my reputation. I nod, giving her my reluctant approval.
“That’d be awesome, Mari. Have her call me if she’s interested?”
“Will do.”
“Thank you for this.”
“Thank you for pimping out your doctor to us.”
We both laugh at her use of the word pimp to describe Carmen’s role.
“My pleasure,” Carmen says. “Let me know what Desiree