Page 6 of Make Us Yours
I skip down the stairs, passing Gabe, who’s sitting on the couch. “I’m out. I’ll see you at Ford’s later,” I tell him as I step into the elevator and salute a goodbye.
VERONICA
I’m fuming, I feel like I’m going to explode.
I can’t believe that sneaky little ant-sized woman!
I’m mad and I’m irritated.Ugh!As nervous as I was this morning, I was still excited to have this job. It was a good gig with an amazing paycheck; one I didn’t have to kill my back every day of the week to get.
Plus, it’s something I’m actually good at and enjoy doing. There’s something so satisfying about cleaning and organizing things. It can be a lot of work, but when you’re done, the finished product fills you with satisfaction.
But now all that’s been flushed down the drain. There’s no way I could ever work for Gabe and Noah. I know they won’t make it easy for me. They’ll corner me at every turn until I give in. I can deal with them when our friends are around, butwith no one else to intercept, I don’t know how long I’d last.
I hate the way I feel around them, like I want to give them my time, which is something I swore I’d never do again. They make my stomach turn to knots and my heart do somersaults with every little smile and touch.
I can’t let that happen.
A little over half an hour later, the cab stops in front of Emma’s house, and I pay the driver before storming out and making my way up to the front door. I don’t bother knocking or ringing the doorbell, I just grab the knob and push it open.
I find Emma right on the other side with a shocked expression on her face, her purse hanging over her shoulder, and with the look of fear she carries in her eyes, I’d say I probably almost smacked her in the face with the door.Good. She’d deserve it.There’s no way she wasn’t in on this. She and Cecilia have been best friends for a long time; she definitely knew what the little scheming brunette was up to.
I find Cecilia a few steps behind her.Good. Just the woman I wanted to have a word with.I fist my hands at my sides, fire blazing in my eyes. “You are all dead to me.DEAD!I HATE YOU!” I spit at them.
Their eyes go wide as I storm past them, toward the kitchen. “I need a drink!” I mumble to myself. “I’m taking your most expensive bottle of wine and drinking it all by myself! Try to stop me, Em.Try,” I shout over my shoulder and head for the wine cellar.
They both explode with laughter at my outburst, enraging me even more. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY!” I yell back before shutting myself inside the cellar.I need a moment to collect myself.
I take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before scanning the selection in front of me. There’s a lot, and if I’m honest, I don’t recognize any.Are they even sorted in a certain way? Price? Taste? Age? Color? Jesus, I’m no expert at this.I guess that’s what happens when you’re indebted with student loans and live off a minimal salary. You don’t have money for any luxuries.
The door to the cellar opens, and Sam—Dante and Gracie’s nanny—walks in. He’s a very attractive young man, and sadly for me, not into women. He walks over to a different shelf from the one I’m observing and reaches up high for a bottle.
“Here, this one is exactly what you’re looking for,” he says with a subtle Italian accent and a smirk.
“How can you tell?”
“My parents are big wine enthusiasts.” He chuckles. “That, what you’re holding in your hands, is a thirty-thousand-dollar French wine. Also, I’m Italian. We know wine.”
My mouth drops at the price but then quickly shuts at his last comment. “I’mItalian and know nothing about wine,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes.
“Then I guess that’s the difference between a real Italian and an American one.” He shrugs, leaning against one of the shelves.
My frown deepens. “You were born in Washington,” I deadpan.
“We’ll blame it on your youth,” he tries again.
“I’m twenty-four!” I gape incredulously at him.
“Exactly!” He snaps his fingers before pointing it at me. “A whole year’s worth of extra knowledge up here.” He taps his temple, then laughs when I glare at him. “Come on, Bella. Let’s go drink some expensive wine.”
He throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me toward the door. Surprisingly, my body doesn’t tense at his touch, something I’ve come to realize only happens, or I should say doesn’t happen, with one other man. Noah.
It stunned me the first time he put his hand on me, and I didn’t get that itching, panic-filled feeling to push him off. Instead, I felt a sense of calm surrounding him. Even when he drinks, I still feel safe.
But with Gabriel, it hits me every time. It’s strong and consuming, yet for some reason, I never push him off right away. Instead, I let him do it more and more, slowly getting used to the feeling of him, something I should be putting a stop to but can’t seem to find the strength.
Once back in the kitchen, Sam takes the bottle from my hand and proceeds to open it before taking three wine glasses out and filling them. Cecilia stands on the opposite side of the island watching us but doesn’t say a word.
I lean into Sam. “Aren’t you on the clock?” I whisper to him.
