Page 21 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
6
Destiny
Around nine-thirty the next morning, Candi and I wake up, feeling the effects of last night. Before I bring her back to her studio where her car is, we go to Justina’s for breakfast. Though we both throw on leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, and toss our hair into messy buns, Candi somehow manages to look adorable while my red eyes and puffy under-eye pockets make me look fifty instead of thirty.
As we open the door to Justina’s, we’re greeted by the familiar scents of coffee, bacon, and freshly made baked goods. Reminiscent of a French country bakery, Justina’s oozes of charm and has become our favorite place to get breakfast on a Saturday morning when Candi’s in town. We’re quickly seated at one of the small wooden tables near the back next to a window where the sun filters in, kissing the small arrangement of billowy ivory roses brimming out the top of a little galvanized pitcher.
Pencil cradled behind her ear and dark hair tucked into a bun, Vivian approaches our table. “Good morning, ladies,” she says with familiarity and a bright smile. “Coffees?” We’ve been coming here so long, she knows the answer, but routinely asks.
“Yes, please,” we say in unison.
She places menus in front of us and goes on her way. There’s nothing new, but we don’t mind because we love everything they have. Vivian comes back with our coffees and we both order our usuals.
“Okay, I was very lit last night,” Candi confesses, leaning forward. “I know we had fun and I know we danced, but I’m gonna need you to tell me again about this deal you made with Nicco,andwas that akissout on your porch?”
“No,” I emphasize, then whisper, “it wasn’t a kiss.” I insist, then return my voice to a normal volume. “He was doing that Italian thing where they kiss on the cheek. It was nothing more than that, I assure you.”
“I don’t know, Des, from what I saw, there was some lingering in there and I know my heart would’ve been hiccupping.” She cocks her head to the side and smiles as she grabs two sugar packets out of the rectangular ivory ceramic container.
“Okay, I admit it.” I hold my hand up in defense. “For asecond, in my drunken head, I thought he was going to kiss me. I mean, his gorgeous face was inches from mine and his lips wereright there.” I shake my hands in front of my lips. “I’ve had dreams about a hot moment like that. I think I stopped breathing.” I laugh. “Then I realized, of course, that he was doing that polite Italian kiss-on-the-cheek thing.” I blow an exhale. “How do you not end up sleeping with these extremely hot men you’re surrounded by all the time?”
“One hard rule: never,eversleep with clients. You know how much I love my job. I’d never do anything to jeopardize it.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
“Anyway, as hot as Nicco is, no one stood a chance with him, at least not last night. There was only one person he had his eye on and that wasyou.” She points her finger at me.
I grab three packets of sugar. “It wasn’t like that. I’m telling you,” I say, opening the packets and pouring them into my coffee. Picking up my spoon, I swirl the coffee and add milk from the small silver pitcher. “We just made this deal, to help each other, that’s all. Besides, I have no interest in becoming another notch in his belt.”
“I know that, honey.” She makes a pout with her lips then reaches over and rubs the top of my hand. “It would be the hottest sex of your life though.” She draws back her hand and winks at me. “Maybe you’d finally give Henry the heave-ho if you let yourself experience the hotness and passion of a man like Nicco.”
“Oh, Henry.” I chuckle. “Nope. Not happening. Besides, you know I won’t stoop to playboy-level, no matter how incredible the sex would be. I’ll never be in the same bed with that man.”
“Okay, okay.” She takes a sip of her coffee. “So, about this deal. How exactly are the two of you going to help each other?”
“Well, he’s looking for connections here in L.A. He wants to transition his career to Hollywood. You know my mom’s crazy connected so I’m going to put him in touch with her. Then they’ll take it from there.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it. He fully acknowledges that I have no other responsibility after that and the rest is on him and his talent.”
She shrugs and the corners of her mouth turn down a bit. “Hmh, okay. That seems pretty easy. And what’s your side of the deal?”
I can’t hold back a grimace as I cringe. “I get to interview him and make him, as himself, the hero of my next book. Then he’ll promote me to his followers.”
Her eyes open wide, crinkling her forehead. “Des, really?”
“I know, I know. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I was drinking stupid martinis and I was out of my mind. I think I even winked at him at one point. Me. Winking at Niccolo Mancini. What?” I shake my head and hang it toward my lap in disgust.
“Actually, I think it’s a fantastic idea.”
“You do?” Now I’m surprised.
“Yeah. Do you know the kind of reach he has? And it’s the perfect audience for your books. This could be just the thing to get you out of your slump.”
“I don’t know if I can go through with it. I mean, I was all bold and sassy last night.” I waggle my head with attitude. “But, who the heck am I, thinking I can write a book about him? What if it’s awful. I can’t put something awful out there? I wouldn’t do that to him. What have I gotten myself into?” Leaning forward, placing my elbows on the table, I press my fingers into my temples.
“Hey, take a breath. You can totally do this. You’re an amazing writer. Set up your interview, ask your questions, and write your book. Let yourself have fun with it.”
