Time Stood Still (7 page)

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Authors: London Miller

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Organized Crime, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Sagas, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: Time Stood Still
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Ross looked like he was ready to object again, but Susan beat him to it. “Thank you,
both
of you. This is just what we wanted.”

“May I speak with you privately, Susan?” Mishca asked, making both Lauren and Ross look to him.


No
.”

“Thomas, don’t be so mean. He did fly all this way for Lauren to be here.”

As Lauren watched them head out of the room, she couldn’t help but wonder what Mishca wanted to talk to her about.

***

“Congratulations,” Mishca said once they were alone, or at least as alone as they could get with Ross hovering in the next room. Not that he blamed him, he understood the man’s hesitation.

“Thank you, Mishca. What can I do for you?”

“Lauren tells me you’re thinking of selling your house, that you want to travel for a while.”

She smiled, but shook her head, and he could see where Lauren got some of her habits as he watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just wishful thinking.”

“If you want, I can set that up for you.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Mishca, but I—we can’t accept that. There’s so much here that we would have to take care of, and by the time we finished…maybe in the future.”

“Lauren took me by your old house.” He could see he was treading in dangerous territory and rushed to explain. “I think, like you, she’s ready to let go and leave it in her past. This will be my gift to you,a new beginning.”

She shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. “I still remember the first time I met you. You were so sure of yourself, even at that young of an age. I thought you were adorable. I never thought the day would come where you would become such a big part of our family, but I’m glad you’re with us.”

“Thank you for having me. So does this mean you’ll accept my offer?”

“From what Lauren tells
me
, I don’t think I have much of a choice, but I think you’ll have a harder time trying to convince Ross of this.”

“That’s why,” Mishca said with a smile, “I’ll leave that part up to you.”

As she went in for one last hug, from the doorway, Ross said, “Keep your hands to yourself, boy.”

***

The next day, they were back at the airport after dropping off the rental car, and while Mishca knew where they were going next, he had been trying to think of the best way to surprise her. It wasn’t until they got there that he had had the bright idea of asking her to look up their departure time on the giant display, waiting for the moment when she realized what he had done. She glanced over at him after reading the board at the top, noticing the discrepancy between where they were supposed to be going and their flight number. “I think our flight is wrong.”

His answer was just to smile, a slow curling of his lips at one corner. “Maybe not.”

Lauren looked back up at the door, wordlessly mouthing the name of their destination as though she was trying to place the name in her head.

“Where is Sardinia? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“Italy,” he answered.

“Do you have business there?”

Since they had a bit of time before they had to board, Mishca pulled out his phone, doing a quick search for the place they would be going. Without a word, he handed it over to her, letting her come to her own conclusion.

One picture after another flashed across his screen as she slid her finger over it, and with each one she saw, the more he could see her excitement growing.

“Why?”

“Because you deserve it. It’s my gift to you since our last honeymoon had to be postponed.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Mish.”

“I wanted to.”

“But I’m not packed for a honeymoon!”

Smiling, he patter the bag that he’d had Amber put together for him the day she and Lauren had went out shopping, knowing that she would be more than happy to do it.

“You have great friends.”

“I don’t know if I’ve told you, but I love you, Mish. More than you’ll ever know.

***

It took ages to get from Michigan to Sardinia, and multiple flights. Though she was tired, Lauren was far too excited to get there to do much sleeping. Mishca was asleep beside her, and earlier, he had reached over, curling his hand around her thigh, and even in his sleep, his hold was possessive. She often wondered if he would ever get over doing that.

It also didn’t help that she had to go to the restroom while he was still holding her. She tried to carefully lift his hand without waking him, but as she tried to free her leg, he spoke with surprising clarity as though he hadn’t been asleep, but his eyes were still closed.

“Where are you going?”

“Restroom. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t be long.”

Always demanding. She slid out into the aisle, heading towards the facilities that were only a short distance away. The restroom was clean—cleaner than she was expecting, though it shouldn’t have been surprising since they were in first class—and when she finished, washing her hands in the basin, she took a moment to appreciate where she was going and who she was with.

When she thought of their honeymoon, this hadn’t been what she originally planned, but all thoughts of it had been forced from her mind when he’d been shot. Some nights she still woke up in a panic, her hand drifting over his chest, feeling the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath her touch. He was understanding, and aways made it a point to pull her into his side until she fell back asleep.

Now that he was fully healed—and she would only accept that assertion from his doctor—it made her feel a little better. Things were relatively back to normal and she was happy about it.

Returning to her seat, Lauren stretched her legs out, nearly laughing when Mishca reached over, resting his head on her shoulder, his hand returning to her leg.

“We’ve been on this damn place for hours,” he complained, relaxing beneath her when she began playing with the silky strands of his hair.

“You’re the one who chose Sardinia, Mish.”

“Remind me
never
to do that again.”

***

This time, getting their luggage wasn’t that easy. Standing there, Mishca’s bags had come around, even the special bag he’d brought for her, but for whatever reason, Lauren’s hadn’t shown.

“Could be worse,” Lauren said trying to lighten Mishca’s darkening mood.

Truthfully, she was just excited about being out of the country more than she was worried about what was now lost in her luggage. There wasn’t anything particularly irreplaceable within it, so that was a good thing.

“How might that be?”

“I could have gotten taken by a cute guy outside this airport.”

He held onto his frown, but his eyes were smiling. “No more TV.”

Laughing, she followed him over to the help desk, acutely aware of the attention they were drawing. She doubted it was because of Mishca’s status, and more likely because of how big he was compared to the smaller Italian women.

While Mishca might have been frustrated, he tempered his agitation, speaking calmly and quietly to the man seated behind the desk. From they way he hesitated over certain word, it was clear he wasn’t as familiar with Italian as he was with French and Russian. Reaching into her carryon, she hunted for the pocket-edition Italian-English dictionary she’d bought from their last stop. She had already practiced greetings and how to introduce herself while she was on the plane, but knew she would need a little help as she figured she wouldn’t be getting her luggage anytime soon.

As best as she could, Lauren asked if there were any local shops around, places where she could buy a few things to replace some of what had been lost. The women were more than happy to assist her with her search, speaking in rapid Italian, most of it lost on her. Thanking them, she headed back to Mishca, telling him of what she had learned.

Since they wouldn’t be getting much help from the attendant standing behind the desk, Mishca finished his report, and they left. While Lauren waited for Mishca to pick up their new car, Lauren looked around the little shops, picking up little souvenirs that she could bring back to the States. When Mishca pulled around the corner, she raised her hand to let him know where she was standing.

Mishca put on a pair of opaque sunglasses, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, opening the passenger door for her, gesturing with a wave of his arm for her to climb in. One thing she definitely liked about this car was that the top was down, and as they pulled off on the winding streets towards Sardinia, the wind whipped her hair back and she could do no more than smile.

The drive through Cagliari, where they had actually landed, towards Nuoro where Lauren asked if they could stop so she could get pictures of the town. Most of the houses, and buildings in general, were made of limestone and looked stunning in the low light of the sunset. While she happily snapped pictures of practically everything in sight, Mishca just smiled, glad that she was enjoying herself.

The farther they went, and the closer they got to their destination, the more the scent of the sea permeated the air, and with it came her first view of the water.

“Why here?” Lauren asked as she got a better view of the sheer beauty of the town they were now in. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but I’d never even heard of this place before you mentioned it.”

“A friend suggested it. I have very few business contacts here so we’ll undisturbed during our time here.”

They drove in silence the rest of the way to where they would be staying, but once they arrived, she gasped.

One day, and she had no idea when that day would come, Lauren would stop underestimating what Mishca would do for her. If she weren’t so tired from the flight, she was sure her mouth would be hanging open. Clearly, even short notice, Mishca was able to pull off something a person only dreamed about.
 

They weren’t staying in a hotel close to the harbor—as she’d thought they would—but rather a holiday villa on top of a promontory, giving clear views of the rocky shore and water below. Only cooler, was the peak of the villa, a shining light like a beacon pointing out towards the sea.

Standing in front of the residence was a man that looked to be in his early sixties, wearing a pair of white linen pants and brown sandals, his shirt a similar material. His snowy white hair fell flat around his head, and once he saw their car pull around, he straightened further, tucking his hand in his pocket.

Lauren’s eyes shot to Mishca, but since he didn’t seem surprised to see the man standing there, she dismissed her worries…at least until they were right before him and he was passing Mishca an envelope.

After speaking in quick, fluent Italian with Mishca, he smiled politely at Lauren and went on his way.

“What did he say?”

A muscle ticked in Mishca’s jaw before he said, “Welcome to Italy.”

“And…”

He hesitated, clearly not wanting to answer, but did anyway. “Roman sends his regards.”

Lauren stiffened, not taking another step forward. “Was this a favor then? A gift for a deal you agreed to?”

“Not in so many words.”

“You know what?” Lauren said holding her hands up as she plucked the keys from his hand, heading towards the house. “I don’t think I want to know. Hopefully he didn’t bug the house because it would be weird knowing your cousin is listening to us have sex.”

He smiled though she wasn’t trying to be funny. “Noted.”

CHAPTER SIX

Between jet lag and their already erratic sleep schedule, they didn’t go back out again until that night. As they started off down the cobblestoned streets, Lauren was taken by the sky, the whole of it painted in brilliant colors, ranging from pinks to purples, indigos and yellows, with lines of white throughout. It didn’t look real.

There were a number of restaurants facing the water, and while there were a good number of the outdoor tables filled, Lauren pointed to one on the corner. Instead of sitting inside—though the interior was just as beautiful—they opted for a table outside to enjoy the view.

Mishca pulled the chair out for her before removing his jacket and claiming his own seat. When their waiter appeared, greeting them warmly in Italian, he ordered for the both of them, most of it lost on Lauren as she continued to smile, captivated by the way he spoke.

After thanking the man, and handing over their menus, Mishca reached across the table for her hand, tracing the delicate skin of her wrist with his finger.

“Are you happy?”

Could her heart beat any harder for him? “I’m always happy with you.”

His dimple showed as a corner of his mouth tilted up. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m being honest.”

Their wine came first, poured expertly into crystal glasses. The local wine smelled pungent, and tasted rich in a way only red wine could. Before long, Lauren had finished her first glass, and had another.

“Tonight is going to be interesting,” Mishca commented absently, smiling over at her as he took a swallow of his own drink.

“I don’t know what you mean, Mish. I’m completely sober.” Though she was, at this point, feeling the effects of the alcohol, and because of that, she was more aware of his touch as he continued to rub circles along her arm.

“Is everything going to be okay with us staying gone for so long?”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about that. Just enjoy yourself. That’s why we’re here, no?”

Their food arrived, and Lauren’s eyes widened as she saw the fish on her plate, head and all. It was cut down the middle, slices of lemon and herbs inside, and while it looked intimidating, it smelled amazing.

She took small bites, tasting it first before she really dug in.

Apparently, that was just the appetizer. Gradually, over the next couple of hours, several dishes were brought out to them one by one, and by the time dessert came around, Lauren was stuffed, but she couldn’t bring himself to turn down the tiramisu.
 

Mishca paid their bill, keeping his arm around her waist as they walked down the dock to the water. Toeing off her shoes, she picked them up, dipping her feet into the water as she sat. He was more content watching her enjoy the night, leaning against one of the wooden beams as she kicked her feet in the water.

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