“That was different, and you know it. Besides, the second you enlisted her husband’s help in this, she deserved an explanation.”
Shame swam across her face. “Of course,” she quickly agreed. “You’re right.”
“You can’t tell her over the phone,” I continued. “At some point, Luca might feel you’ll need a separate phone to talk to Frankie on, but until then, any Randy-related conversations need to be done in person. Understand?”
She nodded but didn’t comment further.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I promised as I headed for the front door. My hand was on the doorknob when she finally broke.
“That’s it?” she asked, incredulously. “You’re leaving?”
I turned around, walked over to her, kissed her on the forehead, then left.
It wasn’t until the door shut behind me that I could finally breathe.
Chapter 14
Roberta~
Want to know how I spent Monday?
I spent it confused as hell.
When Ciro stepped away from me, after giving me damn near the best orgasm of my life, just from his fingers, I had gone from embarrassed to confused.
I hadn’t been embarrassed because I had spread my legs for him. I had been embarrassed because I had cum so easily and shamelessly. The man had made references to my reputation on multiple occasions and I proved every one of his hateful accusations true.
But I hadn’t regretted it.
I didn’t regret it now.
I was, however, confused.
He hadn’t asked for me to reciprocate, and I know I hadn’t been the only one turned on last night. I had felt his length and width pressed up against my most sensitive area before he had made room for his hand. Ciro had brought me to orgasm, then went back to business, like my body still hadn’t been swimming in pleasure, and then left.
That kiss on the forehead, though.
Now, it was Monday afternoon, and I was going to rent another car and drive to Morgan City this evening to have dinner with Frankie and tell her what was going on. I tried to ignore the disappointment when she said it’d just be the two of us because the guys were busy tonight, but I quickly realized it was for the best. I didn’t need Ciro distracting me.
I also didn’t want to be ‘that’ girl and expect more than what he promised, which was nothing at all. And even if Ciro…had feelings for me, there’s no way that man was a one-woman man. Phoenix was different because he fell in love with Frankie when they were kids. But I’d bet a month’s worth of paychecks that Ciro Mancini’s never been in love a day in his life.
A knock on the door snapped out of my musings, and ‘that’ girl I was striving not to be was hoping it was Ciro.
It wasn’t Ciro.
I opened my front door to Gary and Merrick, and my stomach dipped with trepidation.
“I…I thought we were meeting on Tuesday,” I said in lieu of a polite greeting.
Gary flashed me a grin. “We were, Robbie,” he replied. “But that was before we heard the whispers this morning that Ciro Mancini was seen leaving your house last night.”
I could feel all the blood drain from my face.
“Now, of course, you can imagine our concerns when we got wind that The Son of Morgan City was visiting our very own Robbie,” Merrick added.
Gary glanced at him. “Indeed.”
My hand tightened around the doorknob. “It’s…it’s not what you think.”
Gary cocked his head. “Why don’t you invite us in, and we’ll discuss what it is we think.”
I didn’t want to let these two men in my home. I didn’t want them in my private, personal space, but did I have a choice?
I stepped back and let them inside.
Shutting the door, I turned, and they stood in my living room, not moving. That’s when I remembered their strange mannerisms. “Please have a seat,” I said. “Would you guys like something to drink?”
They sat as Gary said, “Thank you, Robbie, but nothing for me.”
“I’ll take some water, if you don’t mind,” Merrick answered.
I nodded. “Sure, thing. Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll be right back.” I didn’t wait for them to comment. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a cold water from the fridge. I headed back into the living room and handed Merrick his water.
He smiled up at me. “Thank you, very much.”
So weird.
I sat in the chair next to the couch they occupied, and Gary leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Now, Robbie,” he began, “why don’t you tell us what Ciro Mancini was doing here last night.”