Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Valentina

When morning finally rolled around, I thought I’d get an early start on the day. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Thoughts about Donovan—Ford—kept infiltrating my brain, even though I tried my hardest to forget the entire nightmare had ever happened.

I vacuumed the house, unloaded the dishwasher, and had started sorting through a pile of mail when my cell rang. Eve’s face flashed on the screen.

“Give me all the details.”

I shook my head repeatedly, even though she couldn’t see me. “It was horrible.”

“What happened? What did the bastard do to you? I’ll cut his balls off.”

Eve’s response made me smile for the first time since I’d laid eyes on my date. “No. It wasn’t that kind of horrible. He was a perfect gentleman.”

“Okay…”

“Very sweet and funny, too.”

“Sounds awful,” she said sarcastically.

“And gorgeous.”

“The balls on him.”

“That’s not the worst part.”

“Let’s see…he’s young, gorgeous, sweet, and funny. What could be worse than that? He’s hung like a horse?”

“I wouldn’t know. And you know why I don’t know that?”

“Because you’re an uptight prude who hasn’t been laid in years?”

“That might be true. But the larger problem is that he is one of Ryan’s friends.”

Eve cackled. “That’s not a problem, that’s fantastic! Bang his brains out and send him to play golf with your ex. Let him eat his heart out when he realizes what he lost.”

“Ummm…Eve, I wasn’t talking about my ex, Ryan. I was talking about my son.”

“I’ll be over in twenty minutes.”

***

The minute I opened the door, Eve hurried past me without saying a word, whipped up a batch of mimosas, and downed an entire flute before even attempting to start our conversation.

“So he didn’t recognize you online either?” she said as she refilled her glass.

“There really isn’t a clear picture of my face on the dating site, remember? You loaded the pics. Besides, I haven’t seen him in years. And his name is Ford Donovan. I just assumed Donovan620 meant his first name was Donovan, and I didn’t connect the two…at all.”

“Why haven’t you seen him in so many years? You’re always out in Montauk in the summer. Do they rent out his house or something?”

“No.” I swallowed hard. “His parents were killed in a car accident five or six years ago. A tractor-trailer lost control on the LIE during an ice storm. I didn’t find out about it until quite a while after. But the house has sat unused for years now.”

“Oh God. That’s awful.”

“Yeah. His parents were older than Ryan and me. But most people who have kids my son’s age are older. They were a really happy couple—very much in love. High school sweethearts like us, too. I actually remember watching them on the beach the last summer they spent out in Montauk. Ford’s dad would lie on the blanket with his head on his wife’s lap and sunglasses on, and she would read to him. It was really sweet, and it made me realize just how much Ryan and I had grown apart.”

“What did Ford say when he realized who you were?”

“He said it didn’t matter to him. He actually tried to convince me to stay and go through with the date. Can you believe that?”

“Why didn’t you?

I looked at Eve like she had two heads. “Did you miss everything I just said? He’s not only twenty-five, but he used to babysit my son.”

Eve sighed. “Did you have a drink, at least?”

“No. Well, sort of. I had a little meltdown before we even met, and he had a waiter deliver a martini to my car while I was freaking out about going inside.”

She interrupted. “Your minivan, you mean.”

“Yes. My old-lady minivan. That I belong driving. He, on the other hand, belongs behind the wheel of that little sports car he has.”

“What kind of a car is it?”

“I have no idea. Why does that even matter?”

“Because you deserve a boyfriend with a hot little car.”

“He’s not going to be my boyfriend.”

“Why not?”

“Eve, did you drink the first batch of these things on the way over here?”

“Let’s break this down. Stick to the details. What’s the real issue? Is it his age or the fact that he knows Ryan that bothers you?”

“Both.”

“So if he had never met Ryan you’d go out with him?”

“No. He’s too young.”

Eve grinned. I really thought she might be losing it. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“What? You won’t be meeting him.”

“But I’m coming to spend the weekend with you in two weeks out in Montauk.”

“So? He hasn’t been there in years. I’m hoping that won’t be changing anytime soon. I just want to put the entire bizarre incident behind me.”

She smiled. “Well, that makes one of us.”

***

After our study session that evening, Allison started to clean up Mark’s dining room table. “I have to run. I didn’t realize it was so late. My husband’s car is in the shop, and he works the night shift so he needs to take mine.”

“Go. I’ll help Mark clean up,” I said.

“You sure?”

“Of course. My son is away at college. He was supposed to come home two weeks ago, but he got a last-minute summer internship. So he’s staying in North Carolina. Sadly, I sort of miss cleaning up after someone.”

Allison gave me a hug. “You’re the best.”

“Hey, what about me?” Mark said. “I cooked all this Italian food.”

Allison laughed. “The Salpino’s delivery guy held the door open for me when I came in.” She plucked a cookie out of the white bakery box on the dining room table and shut the top. She pointed to the gold sticker on top. “Did you make the cookies from scratch, too?”

Tonight it had been just the three of us, since Desiree couldn’t make it. So when Allison left, it was just me and Mark.

I picked up the plates and brought them to the sink. The kitchen and living room were an open floor plan with just a step down from one room to the other.

“How do you feel about the test?” I asked. “You ready?”

“Sta arrivando se sono pronto o no,” he said. It’s coming whether I’m ready or not.

I smiled. “Stai andando alla grande.” You’re going to do great.

Mark collected the rest of the dinner and dessert mess while I loaded the dishwasher. When he was done, he leaned a hip against the island.

“What?”

He was looking at me funny.

He shrugged. “Nothing. I was just thinking we should celebrate after we pass the exam.”

“That’s an excellent idea. And I like your confidence—after we pass not if we all pass.”

“Maybe we could go out to dinner. Italian, of course.”

“That sounds perfect. I think Desiree is going away the week after the exam, but maybe the week after that.”

Mark’s face told me I’d misunderstood before he said anything. “Oh. I meant just the two of us celebrating.”

I loaded the last dish into the dishwasher and dried off my hands. “Sorry. I thought you meant all four of us.”

A moment of awkward silence passed. Eventually, Mark said, “And here I thought I was being so smooth.”

“Oh, you were smooth. I’m just totally out of practice. Honestly, a date could smack me in the head, and I wouldn’t recognize it. It’s been a long time.”

He looked hopeful. “Well, then it sounds like you’re due for one.”

I didn’t want to lead him on. I liked him. I really did. He’d become a good friend. I just didn’t think I liked him in that way. Which was too bad, because if he were my boyfriend we could spend the entire summer out in Montauk. Yet he didn’t give me that flutter—the type of flutter the guy who was perfectly wrong for me caused. Damn you, Ford.

“Would you mind if I took a rain check on a date until after the test? I want to focus on that for now.” Plus, I wasn’t sure.

He forced a smile. “Sure.”

I left feeling kind of down. I wanted to want to go out with Mark. But it felt like the right decision putting it off. Maybe after a few weeks of not seeing him in class and our study group, I’d start to miss him and realize I’d been wrong.

My phone had been in my purse all night, and when I pulled it out at home to put it on the charger, I saw I had a few missed texts. I felt that familiar flutter low in my belly seeing they were from Donovan—or rather, Ford.

Donovan: I had drinks with a woman tonight.

The flutter suddenly died. As screwed up as it was, I felt a pang of jealousy. Ridiculous, I know. A guy I couldn’t go out with, wouldn’t go out with, and had no claim to. Yet it didn’t make what I felt any less real.

Donovan: I ended it early. Would have rather have had cocktails with you, even from the parking lot.

God, why did he have to be so sweet? And so damn young. I probably shouldn’t have responded, but…

Valentina: If it makes you feel any better, a man asked me out tonight, and I sort of blew him off, too.

The little dots jumped around as he started to type back immediately.

Donovan: Is it wrong that just hearing a man asked you out makes me jealous?

I smiled sadly. I feel your pain, buddy. Before I could respond again, another text came in.

Donovan: Why didn’t you say yes?

Valentina: Mark and I are good friends. I just don’t see him like that.

The texting stopped for a few minutes, and I grew anxious waiting for his response.

Donovan: Have coffee with me.

Coffee. It sounded so innocent.

Valentina: I can’t.

Donovan: Why not? It’s just coffee. There’s nothing devious about two adults sharing a cup of coffee. I wasn’t asking to make it for you in my apartment the morning after while you’re wearing my T-shirt.

An image flashed through my head of me standing in front of a coffee pot wearing just Ford’s T-shirt and a satisfied, goofy smile. My hair was a wild mess from the night before, and he wore nothing but a pair of gray, low-hanging sweats. He walked up behind me and slinked his arms around my waist, pulling me flush as he brushed my hair to the side and kissed my neck.

“Morning,” he growled against my skin.

I reached up and touched the area he’d kissed. Blinking a few times, I realized I’d been daydreaming. Oh my. Vivid. Think maybe I should take a quick shower and put down the phone. I plugged my cell into the charger on my nightstand and forced myself to walk away.

The shower proved to be more difficult. Without any mental stimulation except the neutral color of the tumbled stone tile, my mind tended to wander. And tonight my hand wanted to join in while my brain put on a show. My effort to clear my mind of all things Ford did just the opposite, and I had to cut the shower short.

After my bedtime ritual of moisturizing and primping, I got into bed and turned off the light. I had every intention of ignoring my phone and going to sleep, I really did, but a half hour later it was eating at me, and I realized I’d never get any rest without knowing if there were more texts waiting for me from Ford.

So I unhappily pulled my phone from the charger on my nightstand. Sure enough, a few new texts had arrived while I was attempting to clear him from my mind.

Donovan: Did I lose you?

Donovan: If you’re going to ignore me, there’s no reason to hold back. Nothing to lose….

Ten minutes later…

Donovan: Okay, so I lied. I want to have coffee with you because I can’t stop picturing you wearing my T-shirt the morning after.

Donovan: You look really sexy in it, by the way.

Donovan: One cup of coffee.

Donovan: I’ll be on my best behavior.

Donovan: I swear.

That had been his last text, but the minute I finished catching up on them, a new one arrived.

Donovan: You’re reading my texts now. I can see they just changed to Read. So I know you’re not sleeping…

I smiled sadly and sighed.

Valentina: No, I’m not sleeping. Although, I should be. You know why? Because I’ll be up a five a.m. tomorrow morning, no matter what time I go to bed. I bet you can sleep until noon, like most young people.

Donovan: Actually, I’m at the gym by 5:30 and the office by 6:45 every morning. Nice try. How about coffee at 6 a.m., if you’re up anyway?

I chuckled to myself.

Valentina: You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. But I’m sorry, I just can’t, Ford.

I’d started to type: I just can’t—no matter how much I want to. But I erased it. I needed to put an end to this craziness, for both of our sakes.

Instead of responding, I went to my contacts and edited Donovan to Ford—a gentle reminder that Donovan wasn’t a man I could ever be attracted to; he was simply Ford, the boy next door.