Yes, Santino had seen her quick glances these last few days whenever someone attractive was in their presence, but he’d pretended not to notice. It was vital to keep the peace at all costs. To not rock the boat and plunge them back into a sea of regret. But goddamn Malone hadn’t just rocked that boat, he’d kicked it over full force with his booted foot. And after that, she changed. It was subtle, but Santino could sense it. She’d withdrawn somehow, back behind that invisible barrier he’d thought he’d finally broken through.
But they were stronger than that. This week had proven it. And he would keep proving it. Malone was wrong. They could overcome this.
Santino finished his workout, feeling a little more in charge of himself again. After he courtesy-wiped the weight bench to clean it of his sweat, he pulled on his T-shirt. He was on his way to the café Vanessa liked to get breakfast when he spotted Virgil behind the front desk, talking to one of the clerks. His first thought was to get the hell out of there before he was spotted, but too late. Virgil’s head swiveled at the exact moment Santino was about to pass behind one of the tall, mirrored columns.
Sighing, squaring his shoulders, Santino walked to the desk. Virgil gestured to him to come around to a quieter spot.
“Hey, man.”
“Hey.”
The two looked at the other guests, the bellboys, people coming and going in a constant stream.
“Friday morning. One of our busy days. When the Jazz Festival is over in a couple more days, we move onto the Festival Nuits D’Afrique. They’re gonna have African bands, Latin American, Caribbean. If you and Vanessa had the time…”
“Nah. We’ll be leaving tonight, most likely.”
Virgil nodded with remorse. “Well, it would have been fun.” He was smiling, but there was something different in his gaze. Not sadness, not anger or betrayal. Peace. Maybe it was peace.
“I’m sorry about what happened last night with Bobby.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Virgil scoffed softly. “Ling is great, but it took last night for me to finally understand that I wasn’t doing her any favors by letting things go on like that. And when it’s not right, you’ve got to let it go.” He tilted his chin up, taking in a deep breath of air. “I feel a lot better. I really believe Ling will too, eventually. Now, the next time some handsome doctor comes along, she’s free to be swept off her feet like she deserves. Now if I can just get Scott to visit my parents and have him eat dinner with them... whoo boy.”
They looked at each other and despite the seriousness, despite the shimmer of regret in Virgil’s eyes, rueful laughter bubbled up from both of them.
“He’d definitely tell them some things,” Santino remarked, and Virgil’s laughter deepened.
“He definitely would tell them some things.” Virgil looked up suddenly. A woman wearing a skirt suit was bearing down on them with a determined stride. “Oh, shit, it’s Ms. Tremaine. I’ve been dodging her all morning.” But before he went, Virgil paused and held out his hand. “It was really good to hang out with you, Santino. Come back anytime, buddy.”
“I will. We will. And whenever you make it back down to New York, hit me up.”
Santino left Virgil at the mercy of Ms. Tremaine. Grinning, he left to get those croissants Vanessa loved plus something super rich and tasty for himself and Bobby, only to head back upstairs to find…
No one. The extra duvet and pillow that were on the couch had slid half-way off onto the floor. Vanessa’s purse was gone, but surprisingly, her phone was on her nightstand still pluggedin and charging. Disturbed but not knowing why, Santino fished his own phone out of his pocket and called Bobby’s number. It went to voicemail after a few rings, meaning Bobby’s phone was on; he was simply choosing not to answer.
Maybe the two of them were out taking a walk, getting some fresh air. Bobby definitely needed it if anybody did. His unraveling last night had been more than uncharacteristic. It seemed like a bad omen.
That fucking Malone had been right about another thing. Nothing that had happened last night inspired confidence in relationships. In fact, of the four couples that had started dinner, three were done by the end. Like dominoes, they’d fallen one after the other.
There was only one left standing.
“Fuck it. I warned him. B-Man will have to figure it out,” Santino mumbled to himself, trying hard to ignore that dread creeping back up his spine.
Sitting down on the terrace to enjoy this last full day in town in whatever way he could, Santino dug into his breakfast, soothing himself with the green vista of Mont Royal Park while he ate. Someday when he and Vanessa came back here, they’d bring their kids and stroll up and down its cool paths. Deep in his bones, no matter what the so-called prophet Malone had foreseen in his wack-assed crystal ball, Santino knew that future would come to pass.
When he was done eating, he tugged at his T-shirt, now sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He pulled it off as he went to the bathroom to turn on the shower, those sweet daydreams of all the things that awaited him and Vanessa still running in his head until they were rudely interrupted by someone banging on the door.
It was too early for room service. Maybe Bobby had come back alone while Vanessa was still out with the only other keycard.The person who’d been knocking when he looked through the peephole made the dread sink deeper into his spine, leak through the walls of his gut and pour in like battery acid.
Against the voice in his own head urging him not to, he opened the door. He didn’t even manage to get in a word before Zoe bulldozed her way in, pushing past him.
“Where’s Bobby? He said he was spending the night here. Or was he with that fucking gold-digger?”
In the three years he’d been around Zoe after meeting Vanessa, he’d never seen her this way, showing such total disregard for her appearance. Her dark hair was loose, frizzy and uncombed. She was in a tank top that had some kind of cream smeared on the front and what looked like pajama bottoms. The large breasts on her petite frame were obviously bra-free. Her eyeliner was smudged, lipstick smeared, like she’d gone to bed in last night’s makeup, if she’d gone to bed at all. Maybe she hadn’t. Even the blurred eyeliner couldn’t conceal the prominent dark circles underneath.
There was a wildness in her eyes. Whatever was about to spew out of her mouth, he wanted no parts of it.
“Bobby did spend the night here, but he’s obviously gone, so…” Santino gestured back toward the door, but she stomped into the bedroom. “Hey. Come out of there. Vanessa’s not here either and it’s too early for bullshit. Go.”
