Rafael was looking forward to his trip to Miami on Friday for more reasons than one. He was excited about Paris finally meeting his parents, and spending some quality time with his family. He planned to meet with detectives next week and hoped they'd made more progress with the arson investigation. Rafael had used Skype to talk to his brothers yesterday, and thankfully, they had nothing suspicious or worrisome to report. Things were quiet in Miami, and that was a very good thing. Nicco and Demetri were busy with their wives-to-be, and when their conversation turned to wedding plans, he'd taken notes instead of rolling his eyes. He'd be planning his own wedding in the near future, so why not start doing his homework now?
Rafael dropped his pen on his desk and scooped up his phone. I need a break, and I know just who to call. He punched in Paris's cell number and waited for the call to connect. Just the thought of her excited him, and the moment her bubbly, effervescent voice filled the line his stress evaporated and his spirits lifted.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?" Rafael sounded more like Kermit the Frog than Rod Stewart, but he sang his favorite song-the one that made him think of his college sweetheart-with great conviction and feeling.
Paris clapped and cheered enthusiastically. "Oh, baby, that was great! Sing it again!"
Chuckling, he shook his head. Leave it to Paris to make him laugh. It didn't matter how tired or how stressed out he was, talking to his lady love always made him feel a hundred times better. "Today's the big day," he said, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "Are you nervous?"
"You have no idea. My hands are shaking so hard I can't apply my mascara!"
"Baby, you have nothing to worry about. You're going to knock 'em dead this afternoon at the expo, and I'll be there to cheer you on."
Paris groaned. "Now I'm really nervous."
"Don't be. You've practiced your speech a million times, and it's one of the best I've ever heard. You've got this, Paris. You can do it," he exclaimed. "And after your speech I'm taking you to the Capital Grille for a celebratory dinner."
"Don't you have a board meeting tonight?"
"Attending the Women's Business Expo is important to me, so I gave myself the night off and asked my VP to take my place."
"Really?" Her tone was one of disbelief. "That's so unlike you."
Turning toward the window, he admired the view. The sky was free of clouds and a rich shade of blue. The sun was blinding-much like Paris's smile-and filled his office with warmth and light. Rafael thought of Venice, of the time he'd spent sightseeing with her at Saint Mark's Square, and recalled their conversation at the gelato shop.
"A wise young woman once said, 'The purpose of life is to live it, to taste adventure and excitement to the utmost and to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experiences.' And I've taken her words to heart. I don't want to work 24/7 anymore, or spend weekends at home with my dogs. I want to experience all that life has to offer."
Paris gasped. "Wow, I can't believe it. You really do listen to me!"
"Of course I do. You're smart, insightful and gorgeous, too."
"Keep talking," she quipped, her tone thick and sultry. "I'm listening...."
"You're special to me, and I'll do anything to make you happy."
"I feel the same way, Rafael. I'm committed to this relationship. I want us to work."
"We will," he said confidently. "I'm certain of it."
"I love when you sound all macho. It's such a turn-on."
Her words made him feel ten feet tall.
"We better get off the phone before things go from PG to X-rated," she joked with a laugh. "My driver will be here in fifteen minutes and I'm still not dressed."
"Wear your red Chanel suit." He added, "And leave your panties at home."
Paris squealed.
"Okay, bye beautiful. See you in a bit," he said with a grin.
Chuckling to himself, Rafael hung up the phone. Feeling energized, he flipped open his leather-bound portfolio and scooped up his pen. For the rest of the morning, he worked diligently to finish his paperwork. He blocked out the ringing telephones and the high-pitched laughter outside his office door and focused his energy on the task at hand.
Minutes turned to hours. By the time his executive assistant, Nia Patrick, popped her head inside his office door at noon, he was finished his to-do list and reviewing his agenda for his upcoming business trip to Dubai.
"I'm going to the corner deli to grab lunch," she said, tapping her long, thin fingers against the wall. "I'll get you combo number six and those chocolate macadamia nut cookies you love so much. Anything else?"
"No, nothing for me, thanks."
Frowning, she tilted her head and studied him over the rim of her designer eyeglasses. "But it's Wednesday. You always have the squash soup and chicken panini."
Rafael opened his briefcase and put his electronic notebook inside. "I don't have time. I'm leaving at two o'clock, and I won't be coming back for the rest of the day."
"No problem. I'll forward important calls and emails to your cell phone."
"No. Don't." Rafael saw her eyes widen, and felt guilty for snapping at her. "I'll be at the Business Women's Expo this afternoon, and I don't want to be disturbed."
"The Women's Business Expo?" she repeated, a bewildered expression on her face. Nia entered the office, closed the door behind her and cautiously approached his desk. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but is everything okay?"
Amused, Rafael abandoned his search for his WiFi pen and gave the brunette his undivided attention. "Everything's great. Why do you ask?"
"Because you've been acting strange ever since you returned from Venice eight weeks ago.... I think you should talk to someone."
"Like a therapist?"
Nia snapped her fingers. "That's a great idea, and I think it would be most beneficial," she said, fervently nodding her head. "Do you want me to make some calls?"
"No, thank you."
"Well, I'm worried about you." Her eyes filled with concern. "I'm not trying to scare you, Mr. Morretti, but you're exhibiting the telltale signs of someone experiencing a nervous breakdown."
Laughter exploded from Rafael's mouth. His executive assistant was a riot. As with Paris, Rafael could always count on Nia to make him laugh. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. Great, actually." He smiled at her, attempting to put her overactive mind at ease. "I'm taking Paris out for dinner after the conference and if I eat a big lunch it will ruin my appetite."
"You're seeing Paris St. Clair again?" Nia looked awestruck. Her hazel eyes were big and bright. "You've seen her every day this week. Wow, you must really like her!"
"You better get going or you'll get stuck in the lunch rush."
His assistant spun on her heels. "Danica Lyons will be here at one o'clock, but I should be back before she gets here," she said as she breezed through the door.
To kill time, Rafael logged in to his email account. He looked at the pictures from the Backstreet Boys concert and smiled as the images filled his computer screen. In some photographs, Paris was making faces; in others she was laughing or blowing him kisses.
"Hi, Rafael. It's been a long time."
The hairs on the back of his neck shot up. His eyes slid to his office door, and when his gaze landed on Cicely, a curse fell from his mouth. His ex-girlfriend was standing beside the bamboo plant, wearing a tentative smile and fussing with her white ruffled scarf. Her face was fuller than he remembered, and her pixie hairstyle suited her nicely. Cicely did whatever it took to look like a VIP, regardless of the staggering cost.
Rafael hadn't seen her in months. Not since she gave that tell-all interview to Celebrity Scoop and he had no desire to speak to her. Especially not after all the malicious lies she'd said about him. "Leave or I'll call security."
"Don't be like that," she said, as if she were admonishing an errant child. "After dating for almost a year I'd like to think we could have a civil conversation about our future."
"What future?" he asked, shooting her a disgusted look. The aspiring actress was delusional, so he adopted a no-nonsense tone and gave it to her straight. "I've moved on, and you should, too."
"You'll never find someone who loves you as much as I do."