“Okay…” She stepped into the shower and turned on the water, peeling of her wet swimsuit bottom and letting it drop to the shower floor. “I was thinking we could walk down to The South Cali Creamery later for sorbet.”
“Yeah, I––.” He swallowed, his gaze flickering to the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips, hating how his body still responded to her even as his heart was breaking. He forced his gaze away, his chest tightening with the knowledge that everything between them had already ended.
She just didn’t know it yet.
“That sounds nice,” he said. “But I think we need to talk…”
Chapter Five
Love
November, Denver, Colorado…
Helena gazed out the first-class window as the plane cruised toward Denver International Airport. The Rocky Mountains stretched below, their rugged, snow-capped peaks catching the morning sunlight against a canvas of deep blue sky.
Ten months had passed since Raph had ended their relationship, and he’d done it with his characteristic directness. “I’ve been feeling claustrophobic,” he’d said, his eyes flat and unreadable. “And I think things have been moving a little too fast.” He’d been quick to add that it wasn’t her fault, that he was probably the one who’d had his foot on the accelerator, but that he’d since realized he wasn’t ready for such a serious relationship.
Helena had sat there, at the foot of his bed, wrapped in a towel. She’d been in shock at first, stunned that this man who had, up until that night, vowed to do anything to make her happy, was now saying he felt suffocated by her.
She’d stayed in one of his guest rooms that night, the sting of rejection keeping her from sleep. But by the time she boarded her flight the following morning, the weight of unrequited love, and the guilt she had been carrying for months began to lift, and she returned home to Thea, feeling grateful for the time she’d spent with Raph, and the love he had shown her during a transitional phase in her life.
She’d been struggling to tell him that what they shared wasn’t the deep connection she craved, and there he was, presenting the conclusion of their relationship on a silver platter. In the end, his breaking up with her had been a gift. Helena had long had a habit of confusing lust for love, and her relationship with Raph had only strengthened her resolve to break out of that toxic routine.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our initial decent into the Denver municipal area. In just a few moments, our cabin crew will begin collecting service items…” a flight attendant’s voice called through the intercom.
Helena checked her watch and finished the last of her coffee––cold, but still much needed after rushing to make her pre-dawn flight this morning. She was visiting Denver to meet with Hammon Jones, a private collector who owned several pieces of kh?m trai furniture dating to the fifteenth century. The Southeast Asian Cultural Institute in L.A. was hosting an exhibition on ancient, Vietnamese mother-of-pearl inlay, and it was Helena’s job to convince Hammon to loan them some of his priceless pieces.
It was the art of kh?m trai that had first sparked Helena’s love for Asian craftsmanship and artistry, but if she were being honest, the assignment wasn’t the only reason her pulse had quickened when Lisa, her contact at SEACI, had put her in touch with the Denver collector.
Tele lived in Denver, too.
Helena hadn’t spoken to any one in Raph’s family since the breakup, and she’d missed them more than she imagined she would. When she’d met them last October, and they had all welcomed her with open arms, Helena had felt a sense of belonging for the first time since her mom died.
Jordan had flown to L.A. shortly before Christmas to take Helena shopping––filling the role of friend and boyfriend’s mom perfectly. They’d laughed about that famous scene in Pretty Woman as they browsed the boutiques of Rodeo Drive, then lunched among some of Los Angeles’ most recognizable faces at Benzina, before splurging on spa treatments at the Beverly Hills Hotel.
And just a few days after the holidays, when a blizzard had stranded her in New York during a layover from Paris, Neo had insisted she stay with him at his Manhattan apartment instead of waiting out the storm alone at a hotel. For two days, they’d indulged in the delicious food prepared by his personal chef, and watched the entire Die Hard film series in front of a fire, as the city fell silent beneath a blanket of snow outside his expansive windows.
During Die Hard with a Vengeance, Neo had gotten a call from someone. He’d paused the movie to tell them he couldn’t make it to their event because his “sister-in-law” was in town unexpectedly.
“Your sister-in-law?” Helena had questioned when he ended the call. “Don’t I have to be married to your brother for me to be your in-law?”
“I’d be surprised if he hasn’t bought the ring already,” he’d responded coolly before unpausing the film.
The idea of marrying Raph had been a welcomed thought at one time. Afterall, their background, commonalities, and lifestyles seemed a perfect match. But it wasn’t until she’d gotten to know Tele that Helena had realized just how wrong she had been.
Meeting Tele had changed everything.
The playful banter, his mischievous nature, the electricity that crackled beneath the surface––it had all left her feeling alive and authentically herself. Like she was a little girl again, carefree and safe with her doting aunt and free-spirited bohemian mother.
Yes, it was Tele she longed to see more than anyone.
Judging from how eagerly he’d rearranged his afternoon schedule when she’d finally worked up the courage to text him this morning, Helena had a feeling that he’d missed her company, too.
The Main Street Grille was situated on the corner of 17th and Baker Street, directly across from Tele’s office, and offered a view of the busy intersection. The sleek black facade and subtle gold lettering matched its reputation as Denver's premier steakhouse. Inside, dark wood and warm lighting created an intimate atmosphere, while the open kitchen allowed diners to watch highly skilled chefs work their magic over open flames.
Helena sat at a reserved corner table, fidgeting with the evil-eye charm on her phone case. She kept checking and rechecking her reflection in the window, trying to keep her nerves at bay. Among the business lunch crowd in their dark suits and tight pencil skirts, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Her ivory cashmere sweater, knee-high black leather riding boots, black tights, and snakeskin miniskirt were not exactly business attire, or even business casual. But after learning from Lisa that Hammon was “a leg man”, Helena had been determined to use every tool in her box to secure the loan for SEACI.
Her morning meeting with him had gone well, her outfit having the desired, disarming effect. She only hoped Tele didn’t read too much into her attire. Or did she? She pressed her lips together, admitting the truth was murkier: she wanted him to notice. Was he a leg man, too? Or would he have preferred her in something with a revealing neckline, like the red silk blouse in her suitcase?
