Breakfast on Tuesday

22. Heartbroken girl

As soon as we were out of the shower, I got fully dressed in one of Dante's black sweaters and my jeans pants. Using Annabella's blowdryer, I semi-dried my hair and pulled it back into one using Dante's hair moisturizer. I nearly finished half of the bottle on my head because it wasn't thick enough for my kinky hair.

But, oh well, a girl had to do what a girl had to do.

On the other side of the room, Dante watched me with guarded eyes as he got ready for bed. His jaw was fixed like an immovable brick wall, a stark reminder that I shouldn't fall for an emotionally unavailable man.

My best course of action right now was to leave this room, and the potent and so virile man it belonged to.

"I'm, uh, going to check on my friends."

Five seconds later, I was downstairs in the restaurant.

Whew! I needed some space to sort through the feelings of confusion swimming on my chest like hungry sharks in a tank, demanding to be fed.

I couldn't even fathom why Dante was so guarded. Why was he so afraid to love again?

Because his ex-girlfriend probably fucked him up... You know, broke his artic heart in two.

Maybe.

And the one person who could probably answer that question besides the man himself was now standing before me, taking her precious time wiping down the dinner tables.

To my disappointment, none of my friends were there. A sorry-we're-closed sign dangled airily on the front door as if it had just been placed there. The building across the street was dark, but a couple of houses down, warm lights spilled from the windows and smoke billowed from the chimneys.

Annabella spared me a short glance when I approached the table she was cleaning.

"You sure took your precious time changing your sweater. If you're looking for your friends, they went to their rooms. I guess they grew tired of guessing what was keeping you so long."

Your brother's sublime dick, that's what.

I was not going to tell her that.

"Do you need help tidying up?"

"I'm pretty much done here."

Great. How was I ever going to get her to talk about Dante's ex when she was more stuck up than a disgruntled old lady who hadn't been able to shit properly for weeks because she was constipated?

You should abort this mission now for both our sakes! Why are you always so damn nosy? This behavior is going to get us killed.

And, of course, I ignored my perfectly logical inner voice and opened my big mouth. "I was thinking..."

Annabella's eyes widened as if she was shocked. "You think? That's wonderful, because for a second there I wondered if you even had a brain or ears to heed good advice. I'm glad you're finally coming to your senses."

" ... wouldn't it be nice to keep a party tonight?"

Annabella stopped cleaning the table but couldn't be bothered to look at me. She simply stood there, her expression blanker than fresh A4 paper.

Words continued coming out of my mouth without shame. "Look outside, look how beautiful that is. This much snow falling in Barcelona should be celebrated. What do you think?"

"I think that you do not think. You may think you're thinking, but you do so with empty brain cells"

"The opening of this restaurant is worth celebrating as well. Everything you served today was beyond delicious and I think your mother's love for international food should be saluted."