Making Mina Strings Attached(7)

Mina flushed. “When you say it like that it sounds stupid, but you have to understand. I had to leave. I had to.”

Ivy pushed away from the table, shaking her head.

“I understand,” she said. “I understand that you’ve spent four years being an emotional punching bag for that asshole Ethan, and when a real man comes along, someone capable of getting through that wall you’ve built up around yourself, you’re so scared of making another mistake you don’t realize it might just be the best thing that could happen to you.”

She walked around the corner of the table and stood in front of Mina.

“Be honest. If I told you a story about a guy picking up a girl in a bar—someone who really liked him—who, after a night of hot and heavy action, crept away in the early morning without a word, what would you think?”

Mina scooted to the edge of the seat, and buried her face in her hands.

“I’d think he was a right bastard who deserved to have his ass kicked.”

Ivy patted her arm. “Right. So now we know where you are. What about Marco Genovese? Do you think this exhibit deal is really some complicated method of getting even?”

Mina looked at it from every angle she could. Would Marco really go to such lengths to get even? Yes. Would he be this underhanded about it? Fear warred with logic for a minute, but logic won out. Marco might be ruthless, but if he wanted to destroy someone’s career, he’d be much more direct about it. If he wanted to make you suffer, you’d suffer and know exactly who was causing it and why.

“I don’t think so. I can’t know for certain, but honestly, it doesn’t seem like his style.”

Ivy looked thoughtful for a moment.

“How much does he know about you? Did he know that you didn’t finish your degree because you were getting married?”

He knows more than he should, Mina thought.

“He told me he’d asked about me after the party Ethan’s office threw. And he obviously knows enough to show up in our office, so yes, he probably knows about my questionable academic decisions. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” It was a touchy subject for Mina, one she and Ivy had argued about more than enough in the past. “It isn’t like he’s sending me back to school. I’m telling you, this isn’t just some noble gesture on his part. He’s holding this exhibit, and your career, and Dr. Peabody’s career over my head, either because he wants to punish me for walking out on him, or because he wants me back in his bed. Either way I’m screwed.”

She flopped back into the chair with a defiant look on her face, trying not to think about what being screwed by Marco Genovese might entail.

Ivy cocked her head to one side and wondered. It wasn’t like Mina to over-react. If she had to guess, she’d say Mr. Marco Genovese had gotten a lot farther under her friend’s skin than she was willing to admit. There was no point in pushing it, though. Only time would tell.

“Well, since you put it that way I only have one thing left to say.” Ivy let her hair fall back down over her face to hide her smile, as she walked out of their living room.

Mina looked after her warily. “And what is that, perchance?”

Ivy stopped at the door to her bedroom and turned. A little bright eye peeped out and Mina knew she was in trouble.

“It’s ten after seven and you have less than an hour to get ready for dinner.” She grinned at the look of panic that spread across Mina’s face as she bolted up out of her chair. “I have a kick-ass little black dress if you’d like to borrow it.”





Chapter Three



“I believe that covers it.”

Mina slid the last contract into its file with trembling hands and prayed for the evening to end. Dinner had been excruciating; the food was excellent, the wine luxurious, the service exquisite, and Mina? Mina was in hell.

Marco had arrived at Ivy’s house in the outskirts of Miami precisely at eight. He presented her with a file that was at least an inch thick full of pictures and photocopies of documents pertaining to the Genovese collection. For fifteen long minutes Mina had stood in her borrowed finery—tight black with more buckles than a Pilgrim convention—without Marco saying so much as, “Hello.” Well, at least not to her. With Ivy he was charm itself.

“Excellent,” Marco said, refilling the wine glasses. “You have been most,” he paused as if searching for the word, “diligent.” His eyes skimmed over her, never meeting her gaze. Mina felt two spots of color burn high on her cheekbones. This is ridiculous, she thought angrily. He’s acting like nothing happened between us. She grabbed her glass from him and downed a hasty gulp. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it.