My head shakes disapprovingly as I study the overdone flower arrangements at the buffet table. I asked for a delicate and tasteful bouquet of white roses and lilies, not a bloody jungle!"Can you please pluck out the green leaves? Put them on the aisle carpet, we can still use them as floor decorations," I click my fingers at Gabe. Gabe does as I ask, pulling the long reeds out from the white pots. "So the caterers are all okay?""Yep, they are already making the canapés. The head chef complained, something about the oven settings not being hot enough but I got the hotel manager to sort that out.""And the cake?" He asks.Ugh. The cake, the brunt of my stress. "The delivery guy said they are having trouble with traffic, but he insisted he will be here in roughly thirty minutes, so that's still plenty of time to put it on the table. Can you meet him and direct him to the kitchen? I have to check on Amelia then, make sure she's ready to start making her way down," I order, rubbing
With a cigarette in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other, I should be horrified at the sight of him smoking, but in his tight black jeans and denim shirt, he looks hot as hell. Matteo walks closer until he stands right above me. "How was today for you?" His eyes meet mine. He takes one final drag and drops it to the ground, stubbing it with his loafers."Good! I bet you had a good time?" I grin. I bet he did. All the bride maids practically trapped him on the dance floor. Why isn't he with one of them, instead of out here with me?"I did, but there was one person I would have liked to dance with," he murmurs, looking at me."Emily? I think she's still inside," I tease. Carrying that bouquet like a trophy. "I meant you."I blush, looking at him curiously. "Why?" All of a sudden, he makes his way over and sits down next to me. I feel self-conscious at how close he is sitting next to me. "What do you mean 'why'?" He downs the rest of his wine and puts the glass down.
The sunlight glares my eyes and my eyes jolt up into consciousness. The sheets are so soft and comfortable. I wake up with a tranquillity one can only get when they wake up alone in bed. I look to my left, to confirm what I knew. He's gone. But that's okay, we didn't need to say goodbye. It would be almost too sad. Instead I wake up with a smile on my face, a perfect ending to my trip here. I got to spend one night with a hot Italian. All I can say is I feel content.Kicking off the satin sheets, I wake?up with my hair oozing past my shoulders. I stayed up late and I am definitely still hung over but dammit I feel good at how this trip has ended and how last night went down. After agreeing to pose for him again, Matteo got dressed and went to his hotel room to grab his sketchbook and came right back, and he sketched me until the wee hours of the morning until I fell asleep. I don't know if he stayed with me or if he left straight after; either way it was the perfect send off. Gabe
I watch my brown flats take steps across the glossy white tiles, pulling my weekend bag behind me as I check my phone for the fourth time. Thank god I'm back on flat land; sitting for thirteen hours, at thirty thousand feet above the ground, is long enough. If only Gabe was here because I'm stuck with a five-hour transit at Terminal 3, Singapore Changi Airport while I wait to go sky high again. What the heck am I going to do with myself for five hours at the airport? I don't particularly like duty free shopping, and I can only enjoy surfing on the internet for so long.?Oh, what the heck. I walk a bit faster, eager to check out the shops. Let's see what the airport has. Fifty-five minutes pass and I would be happy to never look at souvenirs, key chains, and calendars again. I bought a pack of hand creams for mum, a polo shirt for dad, and a silk shirt and belt for Hansley. Tristan's gift is already with me. I wasn't planning on getting him something, but as soon as I saw it, I knew
BOOK THREE: BANGKOKTristan. Is. Standing. In. Front. Of. Me.My brother's best friend, my soon-to-be new boss, the guy who I shared that ridiculously hot kiss with, is standing in front of me. The guy I hadn't seen for years prior to that kiss. The guy who then decided afterwards that the kiss was a mistake and that it can never happen again. The guy who I, despite my best judgments, can't stop thinking about.How can one person be all these different things at once?I have to cast that aside. Nothing can ever happen between us. He's right, nothing can happen between us. Or nothing will, not that there's a difference. All that history and now: this new association we have formed. I have to take him out of the potential boyfriend box and back into the old one I shelved him in guys I would never 'go for'. I'm just going to ignore all the thoughts I had about him.I'm going to have to ignore the fact that my heart is fluttering like a hummingbird at the sight of him this ve
I turn away from him to face the bar, poking the ice in the drink with my straw. He said he wanted to keep it professional, but he's talking about it. And joking about it, no less. "Sorry, too soon?" He finally says, his tone slightly edgy.I pause for a moment, lost on how to answer. I can feel him watching me as I keep my focus on the glass. "No, its fine," I take a quick sip of my sip.He looks relieved, "Thank god""It's not like it was that good," I mutter under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear. "Excuse me?" I can hear the disbelief in his tone.Boy, it feels fantastic to insult him, even if I'm lying. "You heard me." He's the recipient of the coldest glare I can give him while holding back my laugh.I can practically hear him grit his teeth, and he pours the rest of his whiskey sour down his throat in one swift movement. Not the best idea, how much has he had to drink?Slamming the glass down on the table, he looks at me. Eyes blazing. "No one has said tha
He thinks about me? I can't even Without giving a chance to react he grabs my waist and pulls me to him, and that static is there again. It's electric and undeniable; judging by the way his pupils dilate I can tell he feels it too. Of course he's not crazy! I won't admit it. I can't succumb to him, when we both know how irresponsible this is. He must have women throw themselves at him, leaving a trail of heartbreak along the way. I'm not going to be one of them, especially given our new working relationship. I have to stop this before it escalates further, before it all overflows. I try and push his hand away but he keeps it lodged there, locked firmly into position. "You are crazy, you don't have thoughts about me," I lie, obeying his command, though my words ring false even to my own ears. "And I have not been having thoughts about you.""Then why are you shaking? Why is your mouth dry?" He stares down at me, his eyes never leaving my lips. "Tell me I don't have an effect on y
I walk up to the door, dragging my luggage behind me. I grab my keys but before I insert it into the keyhole, I stop. Even though I have only been away for three weeks, my place won't be the same now as I last saw it.Adam won't be here anymore, his presence and essence will be completely gone. I live alone now, and when I walk through the door it will be real. Come on, just open the door. I was going to have to deal with this eventually. Taking a deep breath, I insert the key and turn right, entering the well-lit living room. It's still all there the deceptively real looking pink hydrangeas on the hall table, the soft tinkling of the wind chimes out on the patio. The creamy yellow paint centres the room, adding another level of brightness normal white paint cannot achieve.Taking in a subtle scent of lavender, I look at the large diffuser sitting next to the pink hydrangeas. It's good to be back home, my home. A modest two-bedroom unit in the suburb of Stanmore, it's infused