Page 165 of Valentino

He’s got enough on his plate without having to deal with my deceit.

Half an hour later, I make my way out into the living room. Val didn’t join me in the shower as promised, I’m unsure what to wear so I put my pajamas on with my robe.

Something’s going on with me tonight, I’m feeling uncharacteristically needy or maybe it’s just my conscience blowing up.

I look around the empty kitchen. “Val?” I call.

“Out here.”

I walk into the dining room to see that he has the table set, he’s sitting in one of the dining chairs. A selection of food sits beneath silver trays. “Dinner is served.”

“That was quick.” I pull out a chair, this whole scenario feels wrong. “Thank you.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face. He holds up the bottle of wine. “Would you like a glass?”

“Please.”

He pours us two glasses, and passes me one over, I clink it with his and take a tentative sip. “Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” His eyes hold mine.

“I don’t know.” I shrug, acting casual. “Is it work?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He takes a sip of his wine and places the glass back down.

This entire situation is fucked up…. Or maybe it’s just me and my fascination with bad men who live bad lives.

He sips his wine as his eyes hold mine, and I can’t quite put my finger on it, he’s not saying anything out of the ordinary, but there’s a contempt oozing out of him.

My mind spirals into the possibilities of what could be wrong.

“What did you get to eat?” I ask to try and distract my line of thought.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t order anything for yourself?” I frown.

“I had a late lunch.”

“Oh.” I pick up my knife and fork. “Why don’t I share some of mine with you?”

“Maybe you can share something later.” His eyebrow rises.

Visions of him from last night flash through my mind.

I eat my dinner as he sits quietly and watches me, he’s quiet and pensive and every now and then takes a sip of his wine.

“Is there anything that I can do to help?” I eventually ask.

“I think you’ve done enough.” He sips his wine once more.

He is pissed with me.

I know Francesca said it’s about all the things that are going on at work but…. I put down my knife and fork. “Val, we’re friends, right?”

“I always thought so.”

As in past tense?