Chapter Seven

Sophie



I missed him. How was that possible? I have only met the man once in my life, yet I couldn't stop thinking about him. His crooked smile, his smirk that tugged at my heart every time I got to see it in the few hours I spent in his company. His voice, everything about him impressed me.

He reminded me of the male leads on those daytime soap operas granny and I loved to watch.

Despite all this, I could sense danger in him. I had learned a long time ago never to ignore my sixth sense. My mind suspected Raphael wasn't a man I should trust, but my heart didn't seem to agree.

Enough of this, I chastised myself. I got up, picked my jacket from the seat, and walked out. It was Thursday, which means I have a date with Gabs. I wanted to cancel, but she would insist on knowing the reason, and I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone about Raphael or any of it.

I remembered Bruno too. His phone call has been giving me sleepless nights, almost as much as my thoughts for Raph.

Oh God, please don't let me get myself in trouble, I mused.

I had enough to deal with as it is.

I just wanted to go home, I needed to be alone, but then again, I knew the meeting with Gabs would take my mind off my thoughts for a while, so I drove to Aldo's.

I arrived after a few minutes. Immediately I stepped in; I felt it, the ambiance of the place. I had forgotten how soft and soothing the music at Aldo's was. It was also Italian, and although I did not understand the language, it was relaxing. I spotted Gabs sitting at our usual table; she wore a white blouse her long black shiny hair fell to her shoulders. She was beautiful.

She had been a cheerleader in high school, and she made sure everyone knew I was her best friend. Despite my poor background and infamous father, no one dared to bully or make fun of me. She always had my back.

"You're late," she said as I slipped in the opposite seat.

"I know, traffic," I said remorsefully.

"That's always your excuse," she shot back.

"It's always the truth, every single time," I defended myself.

"Hmm," she said, giving me a look that clearly told me she wasn't buying it.

She was right. I was lying, but only today.

I'm usually held up by traffic, but today I delayed in the office debating whether I wanted to come over or cancel though I couldn't tell her that. Not if I wanted to keep my secret.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her face looking concerned

"Of course I am; why shouldn't I?" I said as I chuckled.

"You have been very quiet and distracted recently? You would tell me if you had any problem, right?" She continued, placing her hand in mine, which was resting on the table.

"You know I would," I say, my eyes fixed on our hands. I didn't want to look into her eyes; Gabs was very perceptive. She would know I was lying, not that I was certain she didn't already know.

I have never kept any secret from Gabriella, and to my knowledge, she has never kept one from me. This is the first secret I haven't shared with her; of course, I will tell when the time is right, but not now, not when I don't understand it all myself.

I had a feeling I was going to be in a very murky situation. My life was about to change in a very tremendous way, and I couldn't change it even if I tried, neither did I want to. I was excited and scared at the same time.

Does that make sense?

I looked up from my phone and met Gabs' eyes intensely on me.

"I'm okay, Gabs, really I am, " I say to her, hoping my voice sounds sincere.

She nods and averts her eyes. I felt guilty for not talking to her about it. But what exactly do I tell her? That I'm attracted to a guy, I just met? That I think one of his friends may be a killer? I'm not sure about any of it. I met them once; maybe I'm overreacting.

We are both silents; we are never silent when we are together. We had so much to talk about, from important stuff to gossip and everything else in between. This wasn't how I envisioned our date; I had to start a conversation; anything as long as we started talking.

"Talked to granny today; she sounded excited about playing bridge."

"She still beats Mrs. Murphy at it?" Gabs asks, smiling.

At least I got her to smile.

"Yes, she does, brags about it every chance she gets."

Mrs. Murphy was our next-door neighbor, and she lives alone. Her husband died before I went to live with granny, and her two daughters married and moved out of state.

"I'm glad she has her around; she tells me they're saving up for a trip in the Bahamas. Can you believe that?"

"Why the Bahamas?"

"I have no idea, though she told me Mrs. Murphy thought they should go to Europe but later decided the Bahamas was a good start."

"Do they plan on touring the world now?" Gabs is now laughing; I think she is imagining two old ladies touring the world.

"She sounded happy. She misses me, and I'm living thousands of miles from her. I wonder if it was worth it to move all the way down here just to be a realtor. There are hundreds of real estate companies that can give me a job back home." I sounded sad, which I guess I was.

"You're just homesick. The feeling will pass. Gabs said, then looks at me after a few seconds through narrowed eyes. "That, or you're jealous your grandmother is happy without you."

"No," I exclaimed, outrageous that she would think that.

"I hope not, but understandable. She was the first person to love you, and you love her too. Maybe you're a little afraid she won't need you, which is shocking because that woman loves you immensely."

This was one of the many reasons I love Gabs; she knew what to say to make me feel better. It seems to me like she had always done this, protecting me, helping me, treating me like I was her little sister even though we are almost the same age.

I hope one day I get to return the favor.

We were having a very animated conversation over the latest story Gabs is reading. She works in publishing, and she gets to bring home piles of manuals for us to read through, hoping to get a book her boss can be excited about to publish.

Suddenly there was silence. Aldo's is not a quiet place; it was a place of laughter, gossip, and giggles.

I looked up, and there he was, Raphael. My heart flipped over; my stomach was filled with little butterflies; I swear Gabs could hear the sound of my heart.

What is he doing here?

Is this a coincidence? Of course, it is. What do I think that a guy like this would be interested enough to look for me?

He was walking towards us, my eyes fixed on him.

"Who is that?" I heard Gabs ask, her voice raspy. I guess I wasn't the only one who thought he was hot.

He wore another suit, probably Armani, and a white shirt. He looked like a model or an actor. His entrance reminded me of Monday when he walked into our office; he brought the room to silence the same as now. This man garnered attention just by walking into a room, he exuded power, and he knew it.

"Miss Harris, fancy meeting you here. Small world, wouldn't you say so?" his voice was deep and casual like it was a usual thing to run into each other in an Italian downtown cafe in New York, far from his mansion because I was sure he lived in one.

"Yes, it is," my voice is oddly tight, my breathing shallow.

God, I have to stop reacting like a simmering idiot every time I'm in the vicinity of this man.

"Would you care to join us, Mr. Boselli?" I ask courteously

"I would very much like to join you," he said, leaving a chair where he stood and going around behind me to sit on my left, which was weird because it could have been more convenient to sit on my right

I gave him a confused look, which he ignored, and turned his head to Gabriella. She flushed. Who wouldn't if they got those intense black eyes on them? Then he looked at me.

"This is Gabriella," I said after a few seconds of hesitation. I did the introductions as required; I hazard a guess that's what his silent look meant.

He ordered black coffee and cake. He didn't speak while he ate, and neither did we. I was nervous, and Gabs kept fumbling with her phone, a sure sign she was tense too.

I noticed Aldo wasn't the one who served him, which was unusual because he never passed on an opportunity to be near Gabs. I took a note to ask her later if she found it odd as I did.

Raphael put on his charm after the table was cleared and made us a bit receptive but not completely; he wasn't a man one could be at ease with. He was a dominant male, predator, and out of place at Aldo's. Two innocent girls from the south out of their depth in his presence must have felt like a novelty to this man.

I saw him check his watch, which could only mean he was about to leave. I felt a bit disappointed, which surprised me since I have been a nerve-wracking mess from the moment he walked in.

"Would you mind walking me to the door I need to talk to you about tomorrow?" He asked me

"Of course," I say as I raise, pushing my chair back and making a case of continuously brushing off cake crumbs from my skirt. I was anxious.

Why did he want to talk to me and not my boss?

"Miss Harris, he called, sounding amused.

"Yes," I looked up at him and started walking. His seat had been direct to the door, so he just stood in the middle waiting for me; I thought he wanted me to proceed him; shock on me as he started walking in front of me.

He probably never heard of ladies first, and for a minute, I thought he was a gentleman. Chivalry must be dead. Nevertheless, I followed him out, he didn't speak, and I wasn't going to start the conversation. It was his idea; let him mull over how to begin.

He stood at the right of the entrance and motioned me to stand beside him. He still didn't speak, and it was beginning to make me extremely nervous.

Maybe he enjoyed making me edgy. I thought dispassionately. But why?

Suddenly a man appeared in front of us, pointing a gun at him.

"Boselli in a downtown cafe with a bitch! Never thought I would see the day," the man mocked, sneering at Raphael.

I was in shock, panicked, and trembling. This was the first time seeing a gun other than on TV, and it was pointed at a man I barely knew but was sure I would mourn for the rest of my life if he died.

"Do I know you?" I heard Raphael ask. There was an edginess to his voice, a hardness that I hadn't heard.

The man wasn't fazed, though; he continued pointing his gun at him.

"If you're going to kill me, the least you can do is tell me who is killing me," he didn't even sound scared.

No, no, please don't kill him.

Shouldn't he be groveling?

"Or maybe I should kill the bitch." The man said, moving the gun to point at me, but his eyes remained on Raphael.

He had an ugly scar on his face.

Oh, God, please let me faint. I thought

"Go ahead, shoot her. Do you really think I give a shit?" He didn't even have to think about it; he said it like he was discussing the weather with an annoying guy sitting next to him on a bus. Like my death was so mundane, it was a waste of his precious time.

I was in tears. I couldn't see anything; at least I will be spared watching him pull the trigger. I thought

I heard the bullet, and I thought I was dead, except I wasn't. I felt someone pick me up, my body shaking, so many tears streaming down my face. The front of my blouse felt drenched.