Page 59 of Great White
Just as we fall into another blissful rhythm, the office door creaks open.
We don’t acknowledge it at first, but we both freeze when we find Stefania standing in front of us.
Mierda.
With a blank expression, she takes a step toward the desk and slips her phone off the edge. Neither Dove nor I even realized it was there. She arches one dark eyebrow before she leaves. It’s hard to tell if she’s pissed off or amused. Her sense of humor does air on the twisted side. Just look what happened with us. She could have had any man on the club floor; hell, any man in El Paso probably, but she chose me. Why? 'Cause she knew it would drive Dove insane. 'Cause she knew Dove wanted me as much as I wanted her, and she was trying to prove a point. Which she did, 'cause here we are, defiling the desk like two horny teenagers.
Awkward does not even begin to describe this situation.
But in the end, both Stefania and I got who we wanted, even if Dove does not approve of her relationship with Marco.
That diabolical woman had a plan from the very beginning. Where it will play out from here is yet to be seen, but I don’t underestimate either of these women. They play a vastly different game than men in this business, and I’m merely learning the rules as I go.
Once the door clicks, Dove and I collectively release a relieved breath, then my great white shark does something unprecedented. She begins to laugh. It’s loud and free and such an unexpected sound.
It becomes infectious, lighting up my insides. I begin to laugh right along with her, and the moment is cathartic. It feels like it brings us closer together, experiencing a different kind of freedom with Dove. Not one sexual in nature, but one of the human spirit.
12
Dove
I thought talkingto Stefania on her playing field might help her see my point of view. So here we are, Sunday morning, enjoying everything from mimosas and stuffed French toast, to decadent Belgian waffles, downtown. I even dressed for the occasion wearing a navy-blue wrap dress, strappy high heels, and tasteful, smoky eye makeup. I may prefer being dark and broody, but I can still clean up as pretty and feminine as Stefania. There was a time dresses and high heels were the majority of my wardrobe. But that’s another life, from a past I’d rather not relive.
She’s as poised and perfect as always, her straight, black hair a waterfall of ebony. Her white pantsuit screaming girl boss, all the while she daintily cuts up her caramel-covered Belgian waffle. Stefania is a unique creature. Her upbringing afforded her all the best in life. Private schools, ballet lessons, singing, dancing, and whatever else her heart desired. She’s used to getting what she wants. But it wasn’t all recitals and roses. She was exposed to the cartel lifestyle from a young age. Violence was prevalent, and trust was a scarce commodity. She was counting so much cash at such a young age, she can literally pick up a stack of bills, and without even counting it, tell you exactly how much is there. We spent many nights putting her talent to the test. And it was spot on every time. Those early days were some of the best of my life. Even though we both endured our own tragedies, when we were together the past didn’t matter so much. We found ourselves in each other. With each other. We grew together, and when things got hard, we had each other. She is my strength on so many levels. I don’t love often, but when I do, it’s with my whole heart. It’s with every part of me. It’s with my complete loyalty, which is probably what gets me in trouble most of all. I’ve learned to be cautious with my love and loyalty. It’s a life lesson that has left me scarred, but I’m not ready to give up on what Stefania and I have, or what we’ve built. Marco is a bad idea. I feel it in the deepest part of my gut. He may not be directly to blame, but just being Raffi Rayas’ son is enough. The Deltoros and Rayases don’t mix, and I need to try and convince her of that.
“It’s been too long since we did something like this.” Stefania comments as she indulges in her mimosa.
“I know, that’s why I suggested it.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” I drawl.
“You’ve been so busy with yourGuapoI didn’t think you’d have time for me anymore,” Stefania states sarcastically.
“He’s not myGuapo, and I could say the same thing about you and Marco.”
Stefania smiles, it’s a half-happy, half-devious expression. “He is everything I want. Why shouldn’t I be with him?”
I stay silent. I don’t want to go in for the kill immediately. I want us to enjoy brunch. I want her to remember exactly why we are so good together. But Stef picks up on my reluctance to comment. “You should spend as much time with Tate.”
“I spend plenty of time with Tate.” I really don’t want to talk about Tate, but I guess it was inevitable. The three of us were, are, tangled in a lovers’ mess.
“I think he’s good for you.”
I bite my tongue. I want to scream, Marcois terrible for you, but I don't. Confrontation is not the way to go. It will only put her off and send her deeper into Marco’s wide-open arms.
“Yeah, he’s cool.”
Stefania drops her fork on her plate, and it clanks. My eyes fly up to hers. “Just cool?”
“What else do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. How about that he’s a phenomenal lover? That he makes you laugh, and smile? That he makes you happy?”
I just stare at her. “Is that the way he makes me feel or you feel?”
Stefania huffs. “Tate and I had fun. But I know he is much more than that to you. Even if you won’t admit it. I saw your face the other night. I saw how much passion there was.”
