Conquer Your Love (24 page)

“So what do you think?”
Sylvie asked.

“I don’t know.” I crouched
down to inspect them closer. “Maybe he needed them for renovations. It’s an old
building; it probably needs a lot of that.”

 
It sounded plausible and yet her silence
suggested she didn’t agree with me. I could see from the frown on her face that
she didn’t like my answer. And neither did I.

“When I told you I looked
around, I meant
I really
snooped
around and found no signs of any recent renovations. Everything looks just
old
.” She made a disparaging gesture.
“Why leave the bags in here with the expensive wine? Why not choose the other
room where there’s plenty of space? Just look at this thing.” She pulled out a
bottle of wine and handed it to me. I checked the stamped date before returning
the bottle to the rack. The wine was over fifty years old and probably worth
more than I used to make in a month in my old job.

A faint scent wafted past. I
sniffed the air, focusing to catch it.

“Do you smell it?” I asked.

“What?”

“I think
it’s
paint.”

We split up inspecting the
walls, brushing our fingers over the irregular dirty white surface.

“If he had someone paint them
over, whoever he hired did a really bad job,” Sylvie said. “He should ask for
his money back.”

Sylvie was right. The paint
was so irregular and
rough,
it looked like a child
could have done a more decent job.

“The smell’s strongest here.”
I pointed to a rack and wiped my fingertips over two bottles. “There’s no
dust.”

“Let me see,” Sylvie said. I
stepped aside, only then noticing the white
color
staining the dark wood in places.

“I think someone painted this
room, then set up the rack while the paint was still fresh. As for the rack, my
best guess is it was moved from somewhere else, which would explain why there’s
no dust on the bottles.”

We returned to the fourth
room and inspected the walls. Dark traces of dust and dirt were visible where
the wine racks used to stand.

“But why would Alessandro
move the wine racks into a smaller room after it was painted?” Sylvie whispered
behind me. “Why not just leave them here?”

Crossing my arms over my
chest, I shook my head,
signaling
I had no idea.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question.” I paced up and down the space, my
eyes focused on the wall.

“What doesn’t make sense to
me is why did he have just one room painted? Why not this one, too? Why not the
entire basement?” I turned to look at Sylvie.

 
“Maybe there was no need for it. What if
he had water leakage and just this one room was damp? He might have feared
mold
would spread through the walls,” Sylvie suggested.

“The air would smell damp.
Besides, you don’t eradicate
mold
by painting it
over. You can use an air dehumidifier.
Worst case
scenario, you rebuild all walls because fungus spreads fast,” I said. “Maybe
that’s what he needed the cement bags for.”

It was possible and yet my
words sounded unbelievable. Sylvie’s doubtful look told me she thought the
same. Something just didn’t add up. The painted wall looked like an amateur had
tried his hand at it. Why not hire a professional? Alessandro surely had enough
money. And why do just this one wall?

My mind was spinning from so
many questions and each answer I came up with led to yet another question.

“You should invite
him
over, you know,” Sylvie remarked.

No need to ask
who
she was talking about.

“Seriously?” I asked her.
“Are you really okay with it?”

“Yeah.”

We had this discussion before
and I was eager to stand my ground. Having Jett over wasn’t a good idea. First
of all, both Sylvie and Jett’s egos were enormous. You simply don’t put two
people, who show delusions of grandeur when it comes to their meaning in life,
in the same room. And then there was the fact that Jett and Alessandro weren’t
exactly friends
.

“Ask him.” Sylvie shrugged.

“You’ll be good?”

“You know me.” She shot me a
wide smile.

“No fighting?”

She heaved an exaggerated
sigh and rolled her eyes slowly. “I’d never do that.”

Yeah, right!

Biting my lip, I stared at
her innocent face for a few moments. I really wanted to believe her but Sylvie
could be a little too overprotective, which turned her into a dragon. But she
and Jett were extremely important to me, so wasn’t it about time they got to
know each other? Just in case Jett and I were long-term material.

 
“You’re right,” I said. “Maybe I should
ask Jett for his opinion. A male perspective’s always interesting.”

It was the truth. I wanted to
hear his opinion because I trusted his judgment. But that wasn’t the only
reason I needed him around. I wanted him by my side because he was the only one
who made me feel safe.

The clock was
moving closer and closer to
seven p.m. With every second, my heart pounded harder and faster against my
chest. It had been doing that ever since my chat conversation with Jett.

Will u have dinner with us @ 7?

It had been my clue to him that Sylvie was ready to forgive him and that
I wanted to see him today. Two minutes later, his text message pinged back.

I’ll bring wine.

For the past hour, my stomach had been fluttering and indulging in major
wishful thinking.
And not only because of the promise of a
hot night.
My phone beeped again. Expecting another message, I flicked
it open. As I opened the photo attachment, I let out a spat of air, blushing.

Holy mother of pearls!

It showed me sleeping half naked on my stomach, my legs peering from
under the sheets, where my tiny nightshirt had ridden up, my hair a mess
and—earth swallow me up whole—my mouth slightly open. But, worst of
all, the shirt I was wearing barely covered my ass. Below the picture he wrote,
“Wish I would see the look on your face when you see this.”

I stared at the screen in shock, my hands moving across the keyboard.

Oh God, u didn’t do that.

Short silence, then my phone beeped again.

What?

The picture u just sent me!

I don’t know what you' re talking
about?

Seriously? Now he was pretending he hadn’t sent me the picture.

I want u to delete it. I look
horrendous.

A brief
pause,
then came his answer.

I thought the one showing your boobs
was a pretty good shot, so there’s no chance in hell I’m deleting it. If I want
to picture myself satisfied, I just have to look at them and rewind the
memories I have with you.

I looked at the picture again. It definitely didn’t show my boobs. How
many pictures did he take? I was about to text him again, when another text
arrived.

p
.s.: Can’t wait to see you. I’m sick of making out
with my pillow and pretend it’s you.

My heart did a cartwheel. I texted him
back
,
but no more messages arrived. Now dinner couldn’t come fast enough. Sylvie
noticed my frazzled state of mind, but didn’t comment on it. As per her
instructions, I showered, put on a dress of her choice, and let my hair fall
onto my shoulders in cascading waves. I even let her apply my makeup, praying
she wouldn’t go too far. She wanted me to look amazing, and I did. Standing in
front of the mirror, I regarded my mint colored, off shoulder Grecian drape
dress with fine lace embroidery and hand sewn pearls around the waist. Probably
designed for an evening party or gala, it hugged my figure in all the right
places, and gave my slightly tanned skin a golden hue. Definitely well worth
the horrendous price tag Sylvie probably paid for it.

“Wow. I’m so proud of you,” Sylvie gushed.

“It’s just the three of us having dinner. It’s not like I’m graduating,
or moving to Europe. But thanks for the thumbs-up.”

“I know but look at you.” She pointed down my body. “You’re spreading
your wings and learning to fly.”

I turned around to inspect the dress in the mirror. “Where did you get
it from? I’ve never seen it in your wardrobe and can’t remember you packing
it.”

“I bought it yesterday,” Sylvie said.

“So you went to Milan?” I asked.

She shook her head, touching the dress. “No, there wasn’t enough time,
because I wanted to be back in time for you. I found this small shop in
Bellagio, not far from the pizzeria we went to. Half the stuff wasn’t that bad.
And then I saw the dress and I had to get it. I thought it’d be a perfect fit
for you.” She shot me a bright smile, which made me eye her carefully. She
always talked this much, but there was something in her tone that made me
listen up.

“For me?”

Sylvie nodded, and her smile widened just a little bit more.

“Thank you.” I hugged her tight. “But why would you get me something
like this?”

“Feeling bad?” She winked.

Oh god.

Call it intuition but I just
knew
something
was fishy.

I narrowed my eyes on her. “Feeling bad for—” I was cut short by
the bell. I checked my watch. It was barely six. Jett was supposed to be here
at seven. I turned to Sylvie, confused. “Who’s that?”

Judging from the grin on her face, something was up. “I asked Jett to be
here early.”

“But why?” I looked around my messy room. Clothes and shoes—mostly
Sylvie’s—were scattered all over the place. There was makeup, body
lotion, and yet more makeup on the bed. No way would I let Jett see all the
clatter.

She motioned me to follow her down the stairs to the front door. “Don’t
be mad but I have a date. I reckoned you’d be fine without me.”

“You have what?” I almost tripped in my high heels as I tried to keep up
with her.

“I’ve met someone.”

“Who?”

She shrugged, as though it wasn’t important, which was the exact
opposite of what she really thought. “The guy from the bar.”

No freaking way!

Why did I believe her when she claimed it was going to be just one
drink? From all the people in the world, did she have to go for the local
mafia?

Sylvie’s hand clasped around the doorknob.
Before she could
open the front door, I grabbed her hand, forcing her to turn around.

“What about Jett and dinner?” My eyes spew fire, matching the angry
flames blazing inside me.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll take good care of you. Besides, I asked
him to bring dinner, because you can’t cook worth shit. So you’ll be just
fine.”

I rolled my eyes, ignoring her remark. I had no doubt that Jett and I
would have a good time. “No, Sylvie. That’s not really my concern. I don’t like
you going out with that guy, and you know it. What happened to ‘one drink only,
I’m not
gonna
marry him’?”

She shrugged again in that non-committal way of hers. Cringing, I
clamped my mouth shut. My hopes and dreams of Jett and Sylvie spending more
time together in order to get to know each other were about to run down the
toilet. I wanted the ice broken between the two most important people in my
life. That was never going to happen if Sylvie kept finding excuses to stay
away from him. I could take care of that later. Right now my issue was her
going out with a guy I didn’t know.

“Sylvie, why would you go on a date with someone without telling me?”

Hypocrite alert.

Wasn’t that what I had done the last few times? I began to rub my
temples in the hope she wouldn’t catch the guilty look on my face.

“I’m telling you now. If I can’t find a decent club in the area, I need
a date. Besides, I haven’t had one of those in ages,” she said. “I’ll spill
everything when I get back.”

I honestly didn’t want her to go and yet what could I do? I was in no
position to make demands. In the end I found myself whispering, “Please be
careful.”

Sylvie leaned in whispering back, “When you find someone special, he’s
probably worth hanging on to. Don’t stop trying to make it work. In fact,
today’s a good day to tell him how you feel about him. You take a risk, okay?”

Where the heck did the sudden Dr. Phil life coaching session come from?
I stared at her, open-mouthed. Her lips touched my cheek gently and she patted
my arm. That’s when everything dawned on me.