Anastasia and want to run a story on her; a rags-to-riches kinda thing.”
“What the fuck?”
“I know.”
“What kind of shots?”
“Nothing salacious.”
Thank fuck.
Wait. There shouldn’t be any salacious shots of Ana. Should there?
“Tell them to fuck off. Rope Ros in. Threaten them with legal action.”
Sam takes a deep breath. “They’ll be published while you’re away on your honeymoon. The photos are okay. If you want my advice, let them run and ignore them. It will be more of a story if you don’t.”
I can almost hear his I told you so vibe over the phone. He wanted us to do a photoshoot; maybe I should have conceded.
Hell.
“Send me what you have,” I snap.
Fucking paparazzi!
A moment later his e-mail pops up in my inbox, and I read the attachment quickly. Grudgingly, I admit he might be right. It’s not that bad, and the photographs of Ana are okay, if grainy. But they also have her yearbook photo. She looks cute. And young. I call him. “Let me think about this.”
At the new house, we follow Gia Matteo through each room. “I love the staircase,” she enthuses. “I’m not surprised you want to retain it.” She beams at me as if it were my idea.
Sweetheart. I wanted to knock this house down and build something new. It’s Ana who has fallen in love with the old place.
“I love the period features,” Ana asserts.
Gia flashes her a smile. “Of course,” she says. We follow her into the main living area. Elliot hangs back; he’s uncharacteristically quiet, and I wonder if it’s because he has a sexual history with Ms. Matteo—I don’t know. She’s vocal, with some out-of-the-box ideas, and I remember meeting her briefly when she did the renovation to my house in Aspen. She did a fantastic job on that.
“I love this room,” Gia says when we enter the main living room. “It has an airy quality that I think we should embrace.” She reaches over and pats my arm.
Damn.
I’ve spent my life subtly maneuvering myself out of anyone’s reach. It’s a self-defense mechanism that I’ve cultivated over the years to keep people out of my space and make them back the hell off. A step here, a slide to the side there, angling my shoulders left or right to avoid physical contact, I have it down to a fine art. I hate to be touched. No. I fear it. Except by Ana, of course. Kickboxing has helped. I can tolerate the rough and tumble of a match and a firm handshake…or the bite of a cane or lash.
Don’t think about that.
But that’s it.
In addition, I’ve developed a fuck-off-don’t-touch-me glare that’s proven effective.
However, not on Gia Matteo.
She’s fucking touchy-feely.
It’s irritating.
And not only with me. She reaches out to Elliot as he enters the main living room and gives him what can only be described as a carnal smile as she takes his arm. Elliot gapes at her cleavage, which is on show for all of us. Ana notices, and I see a frown cross her face. I wonder if what my brother says about Ms. Matteo is true. She’s a woman who doesn’t take no for an answer, one of those overtly sexual, tactile women who disregards all boundaries.
A bit like Elena.
The unpleasant thought pops into my head and makes me a pause. I don’t remember Gia being that way when we met a couple of years ago.
Stop overthinking this, Grey.
But as we walk through the house I find myself putting as much distance as I can between her and me.
“A glass wall would be amazing at this end of the room,” Gia says. “It will really open out this whole space.”
Ana smiles, but keeps her counsel and takes my hand.
Taylor weaves through the evening traffic back to Escala.
“What did you think?” I ask Ana.
“Of Gia?”
I nod.
“The Gia show,” she says.
“Yeah. She has a lot of personality. But she had some great ideas, and we’ve seen her portfolio. It’s impressive.”
Ana bursts out laughing. “Yes. Her impressive portfolio was on full display.”
I laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Ana arches a brow. And I laugh again and take her hand. “Thank you for being funny,” I whisper, and kiss her knuckles. “What do think? Should we find someone else?”
“She did have some good ideas.” Ana sounds almost begrudging, but she smiles. “Let’s see what she comes back with.”
“Agreed. Shall we go out to eat? We’ve been cooped up enough at Escala.”
“Is it safe?”
“I think so.” I turn and catch Taylor’s eye in the rearview mirror.