Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
"Hello, Sarica. Would you like to join me for coffee?"
—-since Justina had turned around in her chair to look straight at her with a smile.
"Hello, and yes, I would absolutely love to." Sarica greeted the other woman back without missing a beat...even as she mentally kicked herself in the head for forgetting every lesson about stealth. Her mind raced as she joined Justina at the other table, and she bit back a sigh of relief when the other woman asked for menus.
Oh, good.
Studying the menu gave Sarica a chance to regain her composure. To think of the questions she could ask of Justina. To figure out the real deal between the other woman and—-
"The menu is hardly complex enough to warrant such intense study."
Sarica lowered her menu and managed a smile despite her skin prickling at Justina's amused drawl.
"Shall I order for you?" Justina offered. "Maybe something iced? Giancarlo mentioned your sensitive tongue, which is very like him."
"Oh?"
"Giancarlo has a talent for discovering people's vulnerabilities...and going out of his way to protect them from it."
Did this woman just make a dig about her?
"Oh, but before I forget...thank you, by the way. And I'm saying that with complete sincerity."
"For what?"
"Your passionate defense for Giancarlo online."
Sarica's expression turned blank. "I'm not sure—-"
"I used to work at a salon," Justin cut her off gently. "Hair colors were a specialty of mine, and your usernames..."
Sarica could only wince at this point.
"Item codes of a popular beauty company, and they just so happen to match the shade of your hair during time of posting."
Sarica forced herself to smile. "You got me."
"No, Sarica. You got him. While everyone was happy to drag Giancarlo down, you worked twice as hard in putting the truth out there. You didn't allow anyone to get away with painting him a monster online. Every loser in Boston wanted to feel good at his expense, but you single-handedly destroyed all of them. And as his wife—-"
Sarica's world crashed as Justina reached across the table to take her hand.
"I know it's several years too late, but I can't thank you enough for it."
Chapter Nine
JUSTINA ENDED THE CALL with practiced grace, her French-manicured nails gleaming as she set her phone down. "Giancarlo asks that we wait here. My husband will join us."
Bile rose to Sarica's throat at the way Justina uttered Giancarlo's name with affectionate possessiveness, and her mind, unbidden, conjured images she didn’t want to see.
Giancarlo and Justina together, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the dark.
But since it was Giancarlo and Justina who were married—-
Didn't that make her the villain in this story instead of the other way around?
Justina indicated Sarica's already-empty glass. "Would you like another one?"
What I'd like, Sarica thought, is Giancarlo back, and for you to disappear.
Shame ate her alive as soon as the thought popped into her mind, and Sarica managed to shake her head with a polite smile. "I'm fine, thanks."
Sarica made a show of texting someone on her phone, but it was all for show. She just didn't have it in her to indulge in small talk with a woman who professed to be Giancarlo's wife.
What now, God?
What do I do?
What do You want me to do?
The Giancarlo she knew would never have made love to her if he was truly married. But what if she was wrong? What if he had really changed that much?
And if Giancarlo was married, then—-
Help me, God.
Please.
Because she loved Giancarlo so, so much that only a miracle would enable her to walk away from him for good.
GIANCARLO FELT THE weight of both women's gazes as they watched him approach. The silence stretched taut between them, laden with unspoken questions and painful truths. Justina was a picture of confidence and ease, her lithe and slender form perfectly accentuated by the designer dress she wore.
He took the chair next to Justina and heard Sarica suck her breath as he did. He didn't want to look at her but forced himself to.
Dio mio.
He had been hoping the photos his security sent to her had exaggerated her loss of weight. But it had not. She had also changed her hair color to periwinkle, but that only made things worse. Such changes always meant she was not okay.
And this time, Giancarlo knew he had only himself to blame for her troubles.
"I've heard a lot of rumors about you two," Justina murmured. "The people from your world—-they made it sound like neither of you were in favor of being married to each other. That you were only doing it to obey Signora Marchetti. Were they wrong?"
"No."
"Yes."
It was Sarica who had said 'no'...in a pathetic attempt to save her pride. But when Giancarlo had actually said the truth at the same time, and she saw the way his lips tightened when he realized what he had revealed...