Page 54 of Entangled

Cara didn’t want to be that woman—jealous because she saw Gian with his wife, and not her. She didn’t want to become irrationally angry anytime a news program mentioned something about Elena.

She had no right to feel those things.

And yet she did.

Cara quelled her irritation and useless jealousy by rolling her hands over her unborn boy’s movements. Each little kick and jab, calmed her a bit more.

There wasn’t much else she could do.

It was the loud knock on her apartment door that broke Cara from her daze. She wasn’t expecting visitors.

Cara quickly got up off the couch and made her way to the door, when the knocking became slightly more persistent. “Just a second, I’m coming.”

She pulled open the door to find an unknown, older woman standing behind it. For a long moment, she only stared at the woman, taking in her ashy blonde hair, green eyes, and the way she smiled ever-so-slightly at the sight of Cara. The woman’s gaze dropped to Cara’s slightly rounded midsection, and then just as fast, flew back up to her face.

“My, you are quite a beautiful thing, aren’t you?” the woman asked. “He always did have an eye for the ones that could stand out in a crowd. I believe it’s because he never learned how to blend in, either. He always had to be front and center, a prince waiting to be a king.”

Cara held the door, unsure if she wanted to close it or not. “Do I know you?”

She looked familiar.

“Under different circumstances, I am sure we would have known each other very well,” the woman said softly. “It’s Cara, right? Cara Rossi?”

“I am dangerously close to shutting this door,” Cara warned.

The woman laughed, her crow’s feet becoming more apparent around her eyes. It was that laugh, and the way her features changed enough, that Cara thought she might know exactly who this woman was. It also could have been the French accent coloring up the woman’s words that did it for Cara, too.

But that woman wouldn’t come here, would she?

She wouldn’t seek Cara out, right?

After all, Cara was the whore, the mistress, the piece of ass on the side. She wasn’t worthy of the family name, she couldn’t sit beside her man in church, and her very presence was a dirty word for some.

Surely that woman, would not come to Cara.

Surely not.

“Celeste Guzzi, Gian’s mother,” the woman said, smiling softly again. “It’s nice to finally meet the woman I’d heard all those rumors about nearly a year ago. Gian wouldn’t budge an inch, when I asked. Your aunt is an old friend, from way, way back.”

“Oh,” Cara said dumbly.

“She thought I might like to meet you.” Celeste’s gaze dropped to Cara’s stomach again. “For obvious reasons, sweetheart. And she was right.”

“Not that you’ve given me a reason to think this, but to what, tell me to crawl in a hole somewhere?”

Celeste frowned. “Not at all, dear.”

“Sorry, knee-jerk reaction.”

“I can understand why.”

Cara stepped back, widening the apartment door a bit more. “Would you like to come in, and maybe have a tea or something?”

Celeste nodded once. “Oui, I think I would.”

“Does Gian know you’re here?”

“Oh, no.” Celeste laughed as she walked into the apartment. “I get to wait until tomorrow for breakfast to see him. We’re going to have so much to talk about now.”