Page 82 of Almost Paradise

I reach across the table, and he puts his hands in mine. Back then, he’d tell me about the pressure that was on him to take over for his father. While he always wanted to work for the company, he wasn’t sure about running it. As confident as he was, there was a vulnerable side he’d let me see. He wasn’t sure he could ever run the company as efficiently as his father.

“How has it been since he passed? Work wise, I mean.” The last thing I want to do is talk about Donald Paradise, but I guess if we keep it about work, it will be okay.

“It’s been a lot, but I don’t want to talk about that right now. This is our weekend.”

Relieved to leave his father out of it, I squeeze his hands. “I want bottomless mimosas,” I tell him. “And,” I whisper, “I want something that’s not on the menu, and you’re going to make it happen.”

He grins at me. The first time we went to a very upscale restaurant, he requested something not on the menu and they made it for him. No questions asked.

“You’re Mrs. Paradise now.Youmake it happen, baby girl.”

“I think I will,” I say with a satisfied grin.

Our server arrives and I order our drinks. They’re delivered minutes later. I requested pineapple even though it wasn’t listed. All the waiter did was nod and come back with my request, but instead of asking the chef to make me something not on the menu, he requests to cook us a special brunch, and we accept.

“I can’t believe we have no idea what we’re eating.” We clink our champagne flutes, and I drink mine in one swallow.

“That throat and mouth does wondrous things,” he says, and I almost choke. I start to laugh uncontrollably, even getting the attention of the people in the next booth.

“You know how slutty I get after I have a few drinks,” I remind him.

He picks up the pitcher and refills my glass to the brim. “Bottom’s up,” he says. Then he flags the waiter down and asks for a second pitcher. “I remember that level of sluttiness well.” He wiggles his brows. “Let me not think about it now, but remember that time we were driving from dinner, and I had to pull over because you managed to get your hand down my pants. I swore we were going to get arrested.”

The champagne on an empty stomach must be getting to me. I move over in the circular booth and slide my hand onto his lap. When I reach for his waistband, he wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls it away.

“Oh, you’re turning me down? Since when?” I start to giggle and reach for him again, but he grabs both my wrists and pulls me to him.

“You can do whatever you want to it when we get home,” he promises. I lean in and bite his cheek just like I used to back then. While I’m gently biting him, I hear a loud throat clearing. With his cheek still between my teeth, I look up at a frowning woman. She has her arms crossed and her brows are creased. She looks familiar with her strawberry-blonde hair and pale cheeks, but I have no idea who she is. Nor do I care.

“Heather,” Drake says. I let go of his cheek and wipe his face with my sleeve.

“Is this what you’ve become?” this Heather asks.

I straighten up, ready to defend Drake, but he speaks first. “This is Nia. My wife. Ni, this is Scarlett’s sister, Heather.”

Of course. They look very similar. Heather doesn’t respond to the introduction. She doesn’t even look my way. All her ire is reserved for Drake.

“You string my sister along for years, and you dump her to marry that?” She waves her hand in my direction. “Actually, you married thatthendumped her. Everyone in our family knew you didn’t love her. I’m relieved it’s over, but she didn’t deserve that type of treatment. She’s devastated, not to mention humiliated, and you dare show your face in public with—”

“With my wife,” he says, suddenly standing up and towering over Heather, who has enough brains to back up. “You’re damn right I’m out in public withmywife, and that’s nobody’s business but ours,” he says. “You have a problem with me? Fine. Address me, but you will not disrespect Nia. She had absolutely nothing to do with me and Scarlett. You also have the option of keeping your mouth shut and staying the hell away from us because your opinion changes nothing.”

“Yes. Please use that option,” I mumble, but she ignores me.

Drake takes another step closer to Heather. I stand too, ready to punch her for insulting me, but Drake steps back and boxes me into the booth.

“She has everything to do with it.” She gestures at me, but still won’t look my way. “When she and that kid of hers showed up, you broke my sister’s heart. She’s loved you all her life and—”

“Well, he doesn’t feel the same,” I say to her, interrupting her tirade. “And didn’t you just say you’re relieved?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Heather says without looking in my direction.

“Well, I’m talking to you. And for the record, don’t talk to my husband.”

She finally looks at me and arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Your husband?” she sneers.

“Yes. My. Husband.” I hold up my left hand and point at my ring. “Back off.”

“Or what?” she challenges.

---