Page 35 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
It had taken so long to see him again—to achieve some semblance of healing in that vacant, painful space within her heart. This, in addition to the new hole in her chest from Gram’s passing, was tipping the grief scale. It was too much.
If he didn’t want to see her anymore, fine. She would accept that. But she wasn’t going to let him walk away without some explanation. Some kind of closure so that she could move on and finally let him go.
When she reached the front door to his house, she knocked hard. “Jasper, I know you’re inside. Please open the door.”
She waited. Nothing. Violet growled. “Jasper. You cannot just—just brush me aside like I don’t mean anything. Open this door—”
“Well, hello there.”
Violet swung around with a gasp, nearly jumping out of her shoes. She pressed her back into the door and stared up at the tall, ridiculously handsome man before her. He was…
“Holy—you’re Ambrose Marcello? Oh my God—”
“You know me? My, what a pleasant surprise.”
He was impeccably dressed: a long tan trench coat over pleated slacks, a beautiful creamy knit sweater and the most elegant pair of brown leather wing tips she’d ever seen. His hair was dark, neatly trimmed and his eyes were like rich cocoa but… Violet tilted her head, examining. There was something captivating but strange about his deep gaze staring back at her. Almost infinite. She’d seen Ambrose Marcello in many pictures (not that she was regularly searching for images of him or anything), and had even seen him from a distance when she’d attended one of his writer’s forums. But up close and in person…
“Wow,” she breathed, beside herself. His nutty brown skin was so rich, it practically glowed.
He smirked, his thick lips teasing. “I could say the same thing about you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth like a midnight river.
The door behind Violet swung open, knocking her out of her stupor and making her clumsily tilt backward. Immediately, she felt firm hands gripping her shoulders to catch her. She jumped, adjusted her footing and turned, feeling inept as she saw Jasper in the doorway behind her, his face still brimming with displeasure as he looked them both over. When his eyes settled on the tall, eloquent man beside her, Jasper lifted his chin.
“Why are you here so early?”
“Well, firstly, hello Jasper.”
“Hey.”
“Second, my meeting in the city was cancelled,” Ambrose cooed. “So I thought I’d stop by a little early. I had no idea you were expecting company?”
Jasper’s stormy eyes narrowed on Violet. “I’m not,” he spat.
“It doesn’t appear that way to me.” Ambrose tilted his head. “You know, most men only dream of having a beautiful, voluptuous woman beating down their door. And yet, here you are, seemingly displeased with such a rare blessing.”
Violet stared at Ambrose, awestruck.Whose child is this? What woman gave birth to this creature?She stifled the urge to poke him, just to see if he was real.
Jasper’s grunting made Violet turn her head back toward him. He was still frowning as he opened the door wider. “Just come in and spare me the guru drivel.”
Ambrose smiled, then dipped in a little bow at his waist with his hand out. His coat sleeve moved up with his motion, revealing a shiny, expensive-looking watch on his thick wrist. “After you? Ladies first.”
Hesitating, Violet looked at Jasper and waited. He rolled his eyes. “Come inside please, it’s cold.”
She stepped over the threshold, but she let her displeasure be known as she passed him, turning her nose up before cutting her eyes away from him. Ambrose’s voice resonated behind her.
“I’m not sure why we’re behaving like children, but I amgreatlyintrigued by this new development.”
“There’s no development,” Jasper said, closing the front door. “Go sit in the study and I’ll bring tea.” Their gruff host turned, walking down the hallway and disappearing into the kitchen.
18
Now
Violet and Ambrose stared down the empty hallway. Soon, the sounds of cupboards being aggressively opened and closed echoed through the dim, dusty space.
“Interesting…” Ambrose said, blinking. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”
“Like what? Being stubborn as a mule?” Violet huffed. “Me neither.”
