Tiago's Love Read online

  A lump forms in my throat.

  “He what?”

  “I think he likes you.”

  “What?”

  The mix of panic and surprise in my voice makes her laugh.

  “How could he like me? He just met me,” I say, laughing nervously.

  “I don’t know, but I think he does.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He left.”

  “Already?”

  “They argued over you after you left with David.”

  My mouth falls open, no words coming out.

  “Over me? What could they possibly talk about me?”

  “James didn’t like the way Tiago looked at you, so he got pissed with his brother.”

  I listen in silence.

  “Are you still there?” she asks.

  “Yes... Yes. But I don’t understand,” I say softly. “Why would James argue with Tiago over me?”

  A few more seconds tick by.

  “There are things you don’t know about Tiago,” she says. “Things I can’t reveal about his past, but just so that you know, they didn’t play a factor in James arguing with him. Tiago had a few personal problems, and James stepped in at his mother request and took care of things–– saved his younger brother’s behind, but there were other things that he learned about him, and that’s what made him react the way he did when he noticed that he took a liking in you.”

  “What things?”

  “Tiago never got seriously attached to a woman. He used them–– in James’ opinion, to solve his problems, or for his own benefit, but he never wanted a real connection, so he shied away from committed relationships. That’s not to say that he wasn’t into women. That, he was. It happens that most of them were older than him and helped him a lot, not to say loved him a lot. But being older than him was not that hard, considering his age.”

  She pauses for a moment and asks a server for a bottle of water before she shifts her focus back to me.

  “What do you mean by ‘his age’? How old is he?” I ask with a quivering voice.

  “He’s twenty-one,” she says with a clipped voice before she guzzles down water. “Mmm... I was so thirsty.”

  My mouth stays open as I stare at my phone in disbelief.

  Thank God, we are not on a video call.

  “Twenty-one?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I know that he doesn’t look so young, but he is.”

  “How can he be only twenty-one?” I blabber, grappling with disbelief.

  “Well, he is. I know that you are not into younger guys, and all that, and you just had that story with the escort guy, and you’re probably still trying to make sense of it, but I just wanted to let you know that Tiago likes you. He was adamant about seeing you again, taking his shot at you. I know that James is strongly against the idea of Tiago hooking up with you. He made it clear to Tiago as well–– and not because he is his brother or he is young, but because of his history with women. He told James in the past that he was not interested in women for more than something superficial. He doesn’t like to be accountable to them. He doesn’t want to get involved with them too deeply. He thinks a woman holds him back. Besides, he likes his freedom and resents commitment. He couldn’t have been clearer than that. So, I’m telling you all that, just so you know in case he wants to make a move on you. I’m not advising you either way. I understand James’ concerns with Tiago. On the other hand, James had commitment issues when I met him too, so it runs in the family as you can see,” she says, laughing softly.

  “He’s only twenty-one,” I repeat, hung up on that bit of information.

  How could he be?

  How could he possibly know so much about women?

  How could he possibly know exactly what he needed to do to make me fall so hard for him?

  And why men older than him looked like boys next to him?

  What is wrong with them?

  What is wrong with me?

  “Well, he is. You couldn’t tell from his appearance. Especially tonight. He looked smoking hot. Dressed up and all. He rocked that tuxedo.”

  “What is he doing for a living?” I mutter, still drowning in surprise.

  “He made some money overseas. That’s what got him into trouble to begin with. And now, James suspects that he’s doing some sort of business here. Not like a traditional, brick and mortar business. More like a wheeler-dealer sort of thing. Short-term investments with a big payoff. From what I understand, Tiago is allergic to risk when it comes to money, so he must be doing his due diligence if he does that thing.”

  Not so much when it comes to women, it seems.

  “He gave his contact information to James when he left,” she continues. “His company is registered in Switzerland. It’s the kind of business that David used to have, development and stuff, but I think this is different. James says he’s probably investing in start-ups that have the potential to multiply his money fast.”

  My head spins.

  “Sounds... um... good?”

  “It’s better than what he used to do.”

  “Which was?”

  “He used to fight for money in the UK.”

  “Is that why you kept it a secret?”

  “Well, he got involved with bad people. Not only that James pulled him out of that situation, but also pressed him to give up on it.”

  The memory of those Russians in Monaco flashes through my mind.

  “I see,” I say softly.

  “So what do you think?”

  “About what?” I ask, distracted.

  “About him.”

  “He’s interesting,” I say halfheartedly. “Very good looking. But then again, he’s James’ brother. Why wouldn’t he?”

  She doesn’t say a word.

  I feel compelled to continue.

  “He is attractive–– I’m not gonna lie, but he is too young for me. I can’t afford someone who is not sure if he wants me or not. Some young guy who gets easily spooked, or changes his mind when the first pair of long legs parades past him. I understand that he has a thing for older women, and there must be a reason for that. I bet he’s experienced when it comes to handling them too, but to me, that’s not enough. Anyway, I want this to stay between us. It doesn’t mean that I don’t like Tiago as James’ brother or your brother-in-law.”

  A chuckle rolls in my ear.

  “You don’t have to be so politically correct. We all have mixed feelings about him, including James. Not because Tiago is not likable, but because he is hot-tempered and unpredictable. The reason why I was telling all this was to warn you that he might try to charm you, now, or whenever. If he does, you need to know what you’re getting into. As I said before he clashed with James this evening because of you, I don’t know what made him so fixated on you, but everything irritated him. The fact that James was against him and David Moore left with you. You made quite an impression on him,” she says, half-jokingly.

  “Yeah... I bet I did,” I say, smiling as well.

  My grin filled with sadness.

  9

  EVE

  Moments after we end the call, I lift the cup of tea and take a sip. The aromatic drink is cold now.

  I glance at the stove, entertaining the idea of preparing another one.

  Fuck it. I’ll drink it like that.

  With its warmth, my drink lost its power to soothe me as well. I take a bite of the chocolate cupcake and start chewing in silence.

  Slowly, I slide my finger onto my phone and pull up the only picture that I have with him.

  Slowly, I shake my head in disbelief.

  And also slowly, I swallow my food, the bit of cake having a hard time to go down my throat.

  “Fuck you, Tiago Diego Rossi,” I mutter quietly. “Of all the people in this world, why did it have to be you?”

  Bits and pieces of thoughts start swirling in my head as I stare at his photograph.

  So what am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to react the next time I’m run
ning into him? My chances to work for James have just become a remote, almost non-existent possibility.

  The last thing I need right now is to live in Colorado and get invited to their family gatherings where he could be present as well.

  Staying here in New York, and running into him in one of the restaurants or the hotels peppered in my neighborhood, seems to be equally bad.

  “Fuck you.”

  Annoyed, I pull up the clips and play them one more time, the beauty of the videos paling now that I know the backstory.

  “What a big lie it was.”

  My thumb nears the delete icon when I hear a loud knock on my door.

  For a moment, I turn to stone.

  Shaking, I push the chair back and pull away from the table, holding the sides of my robe together with a tense hand.

  I tiptoe my way to the main door and push up to my toes before I look through the peephole.

  He has his head tipped down–– all I see is his dark hair.

  “Who is it?” I ask to hear his voice first.

  “It’s me,” he says hoarsely.

  Slowly, I unlock the door and slide it open.

  He straightens his back and looks at me, his eyes stormy––heavy with emotions.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Why?” I ask, not moving an inch.

  He looks down the corridor.

  “Can we talk inside?” he asks as he moves his gaze back to me.

  “You had your chance to talk... Tiago. Remember when I send you that last message.”

  “Please.”

  My eyes drag down on his tuxedo and crisp shirt, his shoes, and then back up to his face before I take a step back and motion him to enter.

  “Make it short. I don’t have time for this,” I warn him, not stepping out of my apartment’s hallway and leaning against a wall table.

  He glances toward the living room.

  “Not that it’s your business, but I don’t have anyone in here with me.”

  The harsh sound of my voice vibrates through the air like a rusty old string.

  He moves his eyes back to me, with it coming his stern expression.

  His jaw ticks as he looks at me.

  “Why did you have to leave with him, Eve?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “He was the ‘old friend’ you were talking about when you were at Rain’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. He’s the man who said he’d take you out next time he’d make a stop in New York.”

  I press my lips together and slowly nod.

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “And my brother was the man you were referring to as ‘some guy from Colorado’,” he says, quoting the air.

  “Yes, he was. What’s your point?”

  “My point is that you were lying to me too.”

  I bite my lip and ponder for a moment.

  “I protected your brother’s privacy at my friend’s request. And David Moore was exactly what I told you he was when I mentioned him in the past. I had known him for some time, but he hadn’t had a romantic interest in me. We were only friends.”

  “And that changed somehow…. tonight?”

  A malicious grin creases my lips.

  “What can I say? Men are fickle, don’t you think?”

  His eyes go two shades darker, embroidered with simmering fury, yet he makes an effort to stifle his retort.

  I, on the other hand, can’t help myself, so I continue.

  “One moment they want one thing. The next thing you know, they crave something entirely different. So now, he wants to take me out,” I say without, flinching. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  His eyes throw flames.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” he barks, taking a step toward me.

  “And why would you?” I snap, pushing off the table and straightening in front of him, my eyes firing tasers at him.

  Dark emotion flits through his eyes as my heart pounds faster in response to his glare.

  He draws a long strained breath before he speaks again.

  “I can’t stand seeing him near you.”

  “Tough luck, Mr. Lover Boy. He’s taking me out to dinner this coming Thursday. We’ll be at the Le Bernardin, from eight o’clock on–– in case you want to get a glimpse of us together. And that’s that.”

  The vein pulsing across his brow arrests my attention, but only for a moment before I register the blurred motion of his arm as he swings it toward the wall, his fist crashing against the solid structure.

  I hear a dull sound followed by a loud noise as the mirror slides off the wall and falls on the floor, shattering to pieces.

  “You’re gonna have to pay for this,” I say, without flinching.

  Or batting a lash.

  Or backing away in any shape or form.

  Fuming, he shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Without disconnecting his eyes from mine, he grabs a wad of cash and throws it on the wall table.

  He finally tears his gaze away from mine and pivots toward the door.

  He stops only for a moment as if he ponders over something, running a tense hand through his hair before he swings the door open and steps out.

  I stare at the door for a few long moments before I hear the ding of the elevator, and the sound of his steps, all remaining nothing but a memory.

  10

  EVE

  Christmas Eve

  I didn’t go home for Christmas.

  Rain insisted. And my mom and dad insisted too, and even James asked me to come, but I couldn’t make myself go.

  It’s not as if I wasn’t off from work. I was. And I still am.

  As a matter of fact, I am on vacation.

  Yesterday, we had a short day at work, uttered our greetings and left the workspace. The firm is closed through January 2nd.

  The past few days at work were slow and quiet and helped me clear my head. Even the city looks different these days.

  The streets and trees and the park are still draped with shimmering snow, but a lot of people have taken time off just like me. I see more families out there, and people walking their dogs or meeting their friends for a drink in the afternoon and not so much rushing to work.

  The early evening scenery looks surreal as I return from the gym on foot. The air is crisp, the dark sky lighted up with stars.

  Small lights twinkle in the trees as well, Christmas trees peeking through the windows.

  A few pedestrians, like me, head home.

  My phone hums in my pocket as I enter my building.

  I peel my glove and answer the video call.

  “Are you okay?” Rain asks as she gets a glimpse of my face.

  “Yup,” I say, my tone upbeat.

  “Were you at the gym or something?” she asks, her gaze dipping to my flushed cheeks.

  “Yes. I’m getting ready for my date,” I say, smiling.

  My eyes move away from hers as I walk past the elevator and take the stairs up.

  An expression of bafflement sits on her face when I look at her again.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You’re in a very good mood.”

  I breathe out a chuckle.

  “Is that bad?”

  “No. I’m happy to see you in a good mood. I was afraid that you’d be still in a funk because of that Christian guy. And spending the Holidays alone isn’t something that typically cheers people up.”

  Rushed, I gesture at her, as I go past the third floor.

  “Don’t worry about me. First of all, I’m not alone. I have a date with a hot man this evening. And secondly, I almost forgot about that story. I told you I didn’t expect much from him. You can never be disappointed if you manage your expectations. I knew that there was not much of a chance for something serious between us. It was obvious. And trust me. I’m not going to take David Moore seriously either. If nothing else, my experience taught me something new. You can never rel
y on men when it comes to sentimental stuff. They can change their mind in a split second. They can get attracted to several people at once. They move on at a drop of a hat. They say one thing and do another. You know... Stuff like that. I’m not going to make the same mistake again. To believe that if Christian was attracted to me or had feelings for me it meant something. Please... That was so stupid.”

  She studies me in silence, her expression not revealing much.

  Panting, I make it to the sixth floor.

  “Are you working out or something? Or is the elevator out of service?”

  I grin.

  “Working out.”

  She looks down for a few moments, enough for me to reach my floor.

  I push the door open and set foot on the hallway.

  “So you haven’t heard at all from the fake escort guy,” she mutters as she brings her gaze to me.

  “Nope. He vanished in thin air. But I’m not surprised, to be honest. He pulled a fast one on me. What else is there to be said? He fooled me and when I tried to confront him he disappeared. Typical, if you ask me. I’m no longer wasting my time thinking about him. He taught me a lot of good lessons. So now, I’m all set. I’ve adjusted my expectations, and I’m no longer dreaming about stupid stuff, yet I’m confident enough to take upon David’s invitation and spend the evening with him.”

  “That’s good,” she says just as I slide my key into the lock and shift it before I open the door of my apartment.

  I drop my backpack and my gloves on the wall table, and then I take my hat off and put my jacket on a hanger. I toss a glance at the new mirror. It looks better than the old one.

  I kick off my boots as well before I release my hair from my ponytail and walk into the kitchen.

  A smell of food greets me in the entryway.

  “Mmm... I’m hungry.”

  “I thought you were meeting him for dinner.”

  “I am, but I need to grab a bite before I leave. I don’t like to go to a restaurant, famished. Especially when I’m on a date.”

  “What time does he pick you up?”

  “Seven thirty.”

  I open the oven and pull out a tray of lasagna. From the dishwasher, I retrieve a clean plate.