The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast) (4 page)

BOOK: The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast)
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The petite blonde with a top-notch plastic surgeon at her disposal got up from the floor, threw a towel in his direction, and wandered off toward the bathroom. “I need to wash up.”

Ivan stood motionless—still in the same position where he’d experienced a bit of respite—and shut his eyes, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Minutes passed, and he opened his eyes slightly…nothing. His surroundings remained the same. He opened his eyes a bit wider…still nothing. That’s exactly what this was. Nothing. It was the black void of nothing that his life had become.

He didn’t notice that the blonde had returned to the room until she cleared her throat to get his attention. He turned his attention to her and was surprised to see she was dressed and stepping into her shoes. “You can stay if you want to, but I have to go.”

Yanked from his fog, Ivan reached for the towel she’d tossed his way and roughly cleaned himself as he gathered up his clothes. “No, I should be going too.”

“Do you need cab money?” she asked as she stared into the mirror and reapplied a thick layer of rich-girl-red lipstick.

He snorted a soft laugh as he pulled up his jeans and buttoned the fly. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

She turned back to him, her small purse tucked under her arm and a parking valet claim ticket and some cash in her free hand. “All righty then…”

Ivan didn’t reply but kept on with the task of getting dressed. He turned his black T-shirt over in his hands and looked up at her.

“You wouldn’t mind giving me a ten-minute head start, would you? I’d hate for anyone to see me at this hour with a shadow,” she said. “You know how fast gossip travels in Miami Beach.”

He put his arms through the T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “No problem.”

“I knew you’d understand.” She blew him an air kiss and turned her sky high heels toward the door. Just before the door clicked shut he heard her call out to him, “You’re a doll!”

He blew out an exasperated sigh and dropped his chin to his chest. He knew every second spent in a hotel room doing the freak’s bidding, getting his goddamn fix, was accruing a debt that was tallied by the minute, one his soul might never repay.

He slipped on his flip flops, picked up his sunglasses, and tucked his keys and wallet into his pockets. He took a quick glance around the room and then went to the bathroom, where he splashed cold water on his face and ran his hands through his hair. In the mirror was a virtual stranger with beads of water dripping down his face and over his beard. He hated the man who stared back at him.
God, who have I become?
His guilt worsened. He splashed cold water on his face over and over.

Washing away your sins, are you?
the freak taunted.

Ivan picked up a towel and scrubbed it hard over his face, then released a heart-wrenching, guttural groan of a yell into the cotton he held tightly over his mouth. The day-to-day stuff was hard, but this shit—the aftermath of one of these sex sessions—was when the real torture began.

He tossed the towel to the floor, raked his hands through his hair, and wondered if it had been ten minutes.
Screw that
. He put on his sunglasses and stalked out of room 1020 toward the elevator bay. The doors slid open, and Ivan stepped into the elevator. With a whoosh he sped toward the ground. Then, as he had so many times before, he traversed the hotel lobby, sidestepping the throngs of people as they made their way toward the counter. An overwhelming sense that he was on trial for the act he’d just committed burdened his heart, and for a moment it froze him in his tracks. He was suddenly unsure he had the strength to face the day.

Fuck it. Progression!
The freak roared in victory, but Ivan couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding that had settled in his soul. He looked out through the glass front doors in the lobby, cracked his neck, and ran a hand though his just-fucked hair, wishing he’d taken the time to find his hair tie. But there was no avoiding it. His life wasn’t going anywhere.

Muggy air embraced him as he stepped through the doors, raised his arm, and hailed a taxi.

“Where to?” the cab driver asked.

“South. Just head south.”

Chapter 5

“Miami”

“P
LEASE
M
AKE
S
URE
Y
OUR
S
EAT
B
ELTS
are fastened and your tray tables are in their upright and locked position. We are beginning our final decent into Miami. Flight attendants, please take your seats. Thank you.”

The sound of the captain’s voice jolted Jaden awake.
God, I love redeye flights
. She stretched out every inch of her body, thankful that the seat beside her was unoccupied, and relished the momentary rush of endorphins that accompanied the lengthening of her muscles. Once her mind shook the cobwebs clean, excitement coursed through her. It had been too long since she’d seen her best friend. Tasha’s last visit to L.A. had been more than a month ago. Jaden told herself that her jittery stomach was all about the anticipation of catching up with a dear friend. But she knew that wasn’t true. Though it still scared her to death, the chance of running into Ivan now tantalized her.

She’d done her best to distance herself from all thoughts of him after her attempts at contact had gone unanswered, but this time it felt different. Calls and texts and emails could be ignored, but if she happened to run into him, that would be her chance. Surely she could convince him to hear the truth of her terrible mistake. It was still terrible, of course, but not the betrayal she’d once thought it was. She’d just been confused and lonely and way, way too drunk. Growing agitated, she ran her hands through her hair. She needed to explain things face to face. If Ivan saw the truth in her eyes and heard it in her voice then maybe, just maybe, he’d forgive her. For everything.

The plane came to a stop at the gate and Jaden gathered her things with renewed purpose. This was going to be a good trip. She’d be a new woman by the time she returned to L.A. She smiled to herself, fighting off nerves, as she walked through the nearly deserted airport to baggage claim, where she retrieved the two oversized suitcases she’d packed for her extended stay.

After wrestling her bags off the conveyor, Jaden found a pleasant looking Latin man with a thick mustache who held up a sign displaying her name.

“Hello,” Jaden said as she waved to the man.

“Good morning, Ms. Thorne. May I take your bags?”

Feeling a bit of guilt, she looked over her shoulder at the two large suitcases behind her. “Thank you. That would be great.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

As she watched him manhandle the bags, she was struck by a vision of Ivan, who had toted her bags everywhere they went, no matter how heavy they were or how feminine they looked. Her breath caught in her throat as the doors slid open to reveal the warm Miami morning. Jaden breathed in deeply, then exhaled, feeling overjoyed with the familiarity of being home. She pulled her oversized sunglasses from her purse and slid into the backseat of the waiting black sedan.

The car sped off to the hotel that would act as her temporary abode for a few days until her two-month lease started. She’d entertained the idea of staying with Tasha and Micky, as Tasha had insisted, but in the end she’d decided that might be a bit too much togetherness. Hearing Tasha
talk
about their fantastic sex life was plenty without having to experience it for weeks on end. She’d convinced Tasha this was the way to go after she found the perfect little condo for rent, which Tasha was bound to enjoy as well. She smiled again at the thought of her friend. All she wanted to do was let her hair down and lounge by the pool while sipping mojitos with Tasha. To just be.
A girl can spoil herself now and then, can’t she?

The towering concrete buildings whizzed by and yielded to the glistening blue of Biscayne Bay. As they crossed I-195, Jaden felt surprisingly at ease. Everything felt so familiar, so right. She’d loved her time in Miami and suddenly realized she hadn’t just been missing Ivan or missing Tasha, she’d missed being here. The car exited the causeway and returned to land, and in no time it had pulled up at the hotel.

Jaden adjusted her sunglasses and was surprised at the flow of people and cars coming and going from the hotel. It was still pretty early.

“Here we are, ma’am. The Fontainebleau,” the driver called.

Yet another surge of emotion pulsed through her body, but this time she knew it was nerves. Feeling uncertain, she realized she had no idea what she’d do if she saw Ivan, and she felt exposed, leaving the safety of the car. Would she have the presence of mind to initiate a conversation? Would he?

The driver made quick work of unloading her bags and handing them off to the bellman. He waited while Jaden fished a tip out of her wallet, then with a nod, he and the car disappeared. She followed the bellman inside and took her place in line for the desk behind two eager tourists who were anxious to get on with their sightseeing. She scanned the bustling lobby, finding the entrance to the night club where she and Ivan had spent many nights with Tasha and Micky. She closed her eyes and smiled at the flood of memories. The sights, the sounds, and the essence of Ivan’s signature scent filled her with nostalgia, which grew stronger and stronger until it seemed as if he were standing right next to her.

Feeling a jolt of panic, Jaden opened her eyes and caught a passing glimpse of a man moving through the lobby. The shape of his body seemed familiar. Long, tousled brown hair swung across the back of his black T-shirt in time with a distinctive and recognizable gait.

No
. She was letting her mind run away with her. Why the hell would he be at a hotel, let alone this early? Yet she couldn’t break her stare as he walked farther and farther away, the alluring scent fading with every step he put between them. Just as he reached the exit, he stopped as if he’d hit an invisible force field.
Turn around, dammit!
She willed him to shift just an inch. She needed to confirm it wasn’t who she thought it was.

Slowly, the man turned, ran a hand through his hair, and scanned the lobby as if he were looking for someone. As his profile came into view, Jaden’s eyes locked on his arm and the bulging vein that ran down his bicep.
Oh, God!
He lifted his face toward her, revealing a trimmed beard and a pair of aviator sunglasses.
Oh, God, no!
Her stomach plummeted as her eyes came to rest on the one thing she could never mistake for anyone else’s: his face. His hair was a bit longer, and she’d never seen him with more than a few days of scruff before, but there was no mistaking it. Behind the beard, it was Ivan.

Shit…
With what she hoped was a nonchalant move, Jaden ducked her head as her heart jumped into her throat.
Please, don’t let him see me,
she pleaded with the universe. And after a few moments, when she dared raise her head enough to steal a glance in his direction, her prayers had been answered.

Chapter 6

“Creep”

I
VAN
S
MILED
A
S
H
E
S
TARED
D
OWN
at a pair of freshly plumped lips. He’d even impressed himself. This was a job well done.

The sixty-year-old beauty smiled up at him. “Thank you, doctor. You’re just as good as they say you are. I must admit, you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk.

“Oh, God, yes. You’re definitely the best. I didn’t feel a thing.”

“In any other situation I would take offense to that, young lady.”

“Oh, behave!” She laughed and continued to marvel in the mirror at her new lips. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“Behaving is no fun, Mrs. Merandez.” He offered her his hand and helped her up from the chair. “Let Liz know when you want to come back in.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Ivan left the procedure room and went back to his office where he found his assistant, Liz, waiting for him with a curiously sexy look on her face. As he passed her on the way to his desk, he couldn’t help but steal a look at her ass.

“Mrs. Merandez is ready to go,” he informed her as he took a seat behind his desk. “Give her seven months before you schedule her for a refill. What do I have next?”

“Next you have a medical club membership consult in room two with a VIP from Panama and his wife.”

“Okay, I’ll get right to it.” When Liz didn’t reply after a moment, Ivan knew there must be something more she wanted or needed. He was notorious for an occasional missed signature here or there, but normally she’d just leave the chart on his desk with a Post-It note attached. “Is everything okay? Did I forget something?”

BOOK: The Winemaker's Dinner: Dessert (The Winemaker's Feast)
10.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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