Page 3 of Sexting His Son's Ex
“My shoulders have been killing me.”
“It’s all that hunching over you do, babe. It can’t be good. I’ll rub them later.” His finger slips under my chin and forces me to turn my face in his direction. “Are you okay? You seem off tonight.”
I am. I have a thousand thoughts running through my head and I don’t know which to trust. “I’m fine. I’m tired. I had to do a few massive orders today.”
“You can talk to me about anything, you know. I’ll listen.”
I give him a quick kiss. “I know.” Except he wouldn’t. He says all the right things, yet his attention is always buried in his phone.
The car comes to a stop and a few moments later, the driver opens the back door. Luca exists first. He offers me his hand to take and I do, forgetting I don’t have shoes on.
“Wait. You said there was heels?” I remind him.
“Oh, right. The box on the seat in front of you.”
I glance around the back of the car, trying not to focus on the mini bar to the right. It takes me a minute to find it. The box blends in with the leather. Snagging it, I toss the lid off and gasp when I see a gorgeous silver pair of luxury high heels.
“Jovie? Come on,” he urges with impatience.
I can’t give the attention to the shoes they deserve with him around. Slipping them on, they fit perfectly.
Taking his hand again, I step out, the heels clicking against the sidewalk. He quickly ushers me to the front of the restaurant. The doors are huge, sleek, and made of glass, with oversized iron handles.
As we enter, my brows raise. I tilt my head all the way back to look up at the high ceilings and ornate chandeliers. The entire room is dark with hues of blue illuminating the entire space.
“Mr. Salvati. It’s good to see you. Right this way, your table is ready.” The hostess greets with a smile. Her long brown hair is pulled up into a tight ponytail, and it sways back and forth as she walks ahead of us.
Conversations quiet when we enter the room, Luca commanding the presence he always does whenever we go somewhere. I’m not sure how he does this. It’s as if people are afraid of him and quiet themselves so he can have the entire space—or maybe not draw attention to themselves.
The walk to our table seems longer because of the attention. Luca places his hand on my lower back, guiding me down the ink-colored floor that looks like it’s about to swallow me whole. I glance away, keeping eyes on the polished black granite to hide my flushed cheeks.
“Here you are.” She spreads her arm out to show up the table, and two waiters pull our chairs out for us.
“Thank you,” Luca says, placing his phone on the table which lights up when his finger presses the side button. He bends down to whisper in my ear, “I have to use the restroom, babe. I’ll be right back.”
“Need me to order you anything?” I ask.
“No. They already know what to bring us. I’ll be right back.” He kisses the top of my head and walks away, stopping to shake hands with a few people nearby.
I stare at his phone, knowing I shouldn’t look, but feeling like all of my answers are right there. Glancing left and right, no one is paying me any mind in the corner booth all by myself.
“Fuck it.” I snatch his phone, opening the lock screen easily since he doesn’t have a password.
Clicking the notification, it brings me to a text message from another woman.
“We need to talk. I’m pregnant.”
I’m not shocked. The breath isn’t knocked out of me. I feel nothing but disappointment that I didn’t listen to myself earlier. It doesn’t take much to see there are endless messages between the two. But even without the surprise, rage begins to simmer in my veins.
I was nothing but a challenge to him. Iknew it.
And in this moment… I want revenge.
Fuck you, Luca.
Scrolling through his contacts, I take a picture of his father’s information with my own phone, remembering his dad’s single.
And of course, Luca not only has his father’s phone number, but his email address and physical address.
