The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession Book 4) (16 page)

Gio’s face soured. “I’m sorry, what?”

“My dad had a 1970 Chevette. He was always tinkering on it during the weekends. I used to have to sit out in the garage with him if I wanted to talk to him at all.”

Gio snapped his fingers. “That’s why you hardly went inside the house.”

She smiled sardonically. “Yes, smart alec, that’s right. Even in the freezing cold I sat in the garage huddled next to a space heater so I could have a twenty-minute long conversation with him every Sunday. Then I would go inside for a cup of tea—alone—and then I would go home.”

He nodded. “And you sign the house over to Richard today. Are you going to sell him the car, too?”

“Probably. I have a car. One with a backseat that isn’t held in place with armature wire.”

“So…where are you meeting Richard? At the house?”

“No, at a coffee shop near his office. It’s across the street from Kelly’s place, which is where I’ll be heading for the bitch session I will be sure to need afterward.”

His laugh was forced. “Well, that sounds like a plan. I’ll call you after my meeting.”

“Sounds good,” she said, watching him from beneath her lashes.

It wasn’t that difficult to guess his mood now, but he was doing a good job of faking acceptance as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. Impulsively, she grabbed his tie and kissed him on the mouth instead, hard.

“Don’t hit any birds in that chopper. That’s an order.”

The light in his eyes warmed, making them a shade closer to honey. “I’ll be sure to relay that to my pilot.”

“Do that.”

With that, he left and she dragged herself to the shower to get ready. It wasn’t till after she’d finished that she finally glanced at the bedside clock.

It read six-thirty am.

Damn morning people
.

****

Sophia paused in front of the coffee shop, straightening her skirt in an attempt to procrastinate before facing her ex. She was wearing one of her new outfits, a figure-hugging dress with a black skirt and attached white silk top. It was cut with an empire waist, a style she’d avoided for years because she thought it made her bust look too big. Gavin, Gio’s UK shopper and her new favorite person, had convinced her otherwise.

She was now wearing cuts and silhouettes she’d never considered dressing in before. They flattered her figure without making her appear unprofessional, giving her a boost in confidence she hadn’t been aware she needed.

Yes, her size had always been an issue, but she was smart and driven. Her confidence came from her ability and success at work, not her appearance.

It was a familiar pep talk, one she’d given herself many times around Richard and her father. But now she knew she looked good. Richard’s issues with her body were exactly that—
his
issues.

He was early of course. She hated that about him. He always made her feel as if she’d been late when she’d been right on time.

He was sitting in an intimate corner with two armchairs pushed close together over a small round table. There was a pile of papers on it, presumably the deed to the house.

“Are these them?” she asked without preamble, sitting in the empty chair next to him.

Richard choked on the sip of tea he was drinking, standing formally to greet her, although she’d already sat down.

“Hello, darling,” he said standing there awkwardly, waiting for her to get back up before giving up and bending to kiss her cheek.

Whatever. You don’t have to follow his Emily Post rules of etiquette anymore.

“Hi.”

He sat back down after her lackluster greeting, looking her up and down.

“Sophie darling, you look smashing. New dress?”

“Yes,” she muttered, ignoring his scrunity while she went over the paperwork.

Wait for it.

“It’s a little form-fitting, isn’t it?”

There it is.

She clenched her teeth before forcing herself to relax and answer.

“That’s the idea,” she said, managing to keep her tone pleasant.

“Darling, you know that I didn’t mean anything by that. You were always so sensitive about your outfits,” he said, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle on his lap.

Because you were always criticizing them.
He’d been like her father that way. If her curves were visible, she would be gently chided about “flaunting” herself.

“Sometimes it’s nice to change things up,” she said leaning back with a cool glance. “I see you’re still sporting the same urbane professor uniform.”

He was wearing a button-down shirt paired with a tweed sports coat, the kind with suede patches at the elbows. Since it was Saturday, he’d gone with an informal chino in place of his usual pair of slacks. She used to think his was the perfect style on a man, but these days she much preferred the GQ look. A clean tailored suit and tie was much more sophisticated.

Without waiting for him to answer, she stood and went to the counter to order something to eat. She was disappointed when she was given a little number to display on her table, instead of waiting up front for her food.

“New system?” she asked the barista.

He gave her a big grin and nodded. Refraining from giving him a dirty look, she turned back to the table, stiffing him on the tip. But true to form, she immediately felt guilty and returned to stick a five pound note in the tip jar.

The walk back to the armchair was exhausting. She sat down with a thump, taking out her pen. Wasting no more time, she started signing and initialing as needed.

Just think of that big bottle of Bordeaux Kelly has waiting for you.

“Darling…”

“I thought we established that I’m not your darling around six months ago.”

Richard gave her a little moue of distress. “You know that was a mistake. In fact, I’ve been wanting to speak to you about our relationship,” he said, leaning over to put his hand on her arm to stay her pen.

Stiffening, she shook his hand off.

“My parents are in town,” he said. “They’re here to see the house. I thought we could have dinner with them.”

Her mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. She was literally speechless. Gaping like a fish, she clenched her hand around the pen until the boiling white hot rage caught up with her.

“Are you
fucking
kidding me?”

Richard gave her one of his patented disapproving glares, the one that made his face thin and pinched. He had an assortment of them, although this was his favorite.

“Darling, don’t be vulgar.”

Sophia took a deep breath and counted to ten. “We were together for two years and not once did you offer to introduce me to your parents!”

“Sophie be reasonable. They retired to Spain and never visited, or you would have met them.”

She pointed the pen at him, resisting the urge to throw it at his face. “I know for a fact they visited twice, once for your birthday and another for your cousin’s wedding—a wedding you didn’t invite me to.”

He huffed and picked at his sleeve. “You were busy at work the weekend of the wedding. And we had just started dating when they visited the first time. It was too soon.”

Do not stab him with the pen. Do not stab him with the pen.

“We were together for four months by then,” she ground out. “And I would have rearranged my work thing if you’d asked. Not to mention the fact you went to see them in Spain twice a year, and you never asked me to go with you.”

“Their place in Seville is too small to entertain. You know that.”

It was the same excuse she’d heard a million times. The truth was that Richard hadn’t wanted her to meet his parents because he’d been ashamed of her. It didn’t matter that she was his mentor’s daughter. She her mother's mirror image in looks and demeanor, and someone like her didn’t fit in the Selwyn’s aristocratic world.

Richard had made that clear often enough with his less than subtle hints about her weight and his gifts of gym memberships and exercise equipment. His was an existence best suited for skinny blondes who could wear jodhpurs without looking ridiculous.

The arrival of her cream tea interrupted her inner rant. Richard’s opinion of her no longer mattered. She was in a good place with Gio. That man was crazy about her. He loved her body exactly the way it was. The fact that he was a gorgeous billionaire was the universe’s way of making up for her past relationship.

Plus all the sex is making me toned.

With that thought, she calmed down and reached for one of her scones. She spread a generous amount of clotted cream on top and took a big bite.

“Mmm.” It was delicious, and she berated herself for giving them up when she started dating Richard. With a little smile, she added more clotted cream and took another bite.

She glanced over her pastry to see Richard staring pointedly at her scone. Smiling like a cat who got the cream, she slowly reached for her knife and added another dollop, making a production of polishing off her plate. She ate the whole scone and then the other, in the most eloquent
fuck you
gesture she could manage.

Richard sat there with an air of resigned patience while she finished. “Have you decided to sell me the car?”

“Yes, you can have it.”

It was unreliable anyway, and she only had one parking space at her apartment.

“Thank you, darling. Now about dinner—”

“I won’t be attending,” she said with a sigh.

“If you’re worried about them not approving of you, you shouldn’t be concerned. I told them all about you, and your recent accolades. They’re excited to meet you.”

She held up a hand. “Oh my God, stop! I won’t be meeting them because my boyfriend would think it was weird, like
I
think it’s weird. You and I aren’t a couple anymore, and I’ve moved on.”

Richard’s head drew back, and he frowned. “I wasn’t aware that you were seeing anyone.”

“It’s recent. I met Gio on vacation. He’s Italian.”

“Oh.” His lips pursed tightly. “So…this man followed you home? Is he unemployed or something?”

There was the condescending note again. “Actually, he’s a banker.”

A polite nod. “Is he a clerk?”

She suddenly hated herself for assuming the same thing once upon a time.

“No. He runs the bank. He’s Gio Morgese, of the Morgese Foundation.”

Richard couldn’t hide his surprise. “The one that gave you your grant? Well, that’s…nice. I suppose you met at the awards dinner.”

It wasn’t a real question so she didn’t bother to correct him. In fact, she didn’t want to talk to him about Gio anymore.

As much as she wanted to rub her new relationship in Richard’s face, it felt wrong. What she had now was too precious to discuss with her ex. She had no desire to sully her bright and shiny new memories with Richard’s judgments.

“You should take Bernice to dinner,” she added blandly, flicking a crumb off her lap.

Across from her, Richard’s mouth tightened. “I told you that was nothing. She kissed me, not the other way around.”

“Sure she did. And you tripped and fell on her lips the second time.”

“What?”‘

“I saw you kiss her twice. You kissed twice in your office.”

“Darling—”

“My fault, really. I should have called ahead to let you know I was coming by for my keys. Although, I should add that having an affair with your teaching assistant is a little cliché. But you were my father’s protégé, so of course you learned from the best.”

“Really, Sophia. I explained that. And technically you had broken up with me the night before. Bernice was trying to console me—not that I wanted her to. I had to have a very uncomfortable talk with her afterward.”

He sounded genuinely aggrieved and hurt by her lack of trust. There had been a time when she would have felt guilty for doubting him. Richard had a way of doing that to a person. Everything he said sounded so reasonable and dignified that you forgot he was a condescending lying jerk.

Truthfully, she didn’t have proof that he cheated with Bernice. The only physical contact she’d witnessed between the two of them was post-breakup.
Immediately post break-up
. But she had her suspicions before. She’d let them go at the time, but now in hindsight she
knew
he had cheated.

“I remember your explanation,” she said. “I also remember saying I never wanted to see you again, but you wanted the house, so here I am.”

“What about the car?”

Count to ten. One…two…

“We can handle the car by email,” she said, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt.

He pursed his lips. “If you insist. But you should stop by your father’s house. I’ve been going through his study. I think there are some of your mother’s belongings in there.”

Perfect, just perfect
. Couldn’t the universe cut her some slack? “If that’s the case, I want them.”

“So when would you like to stop by?”