Page 224 of Valentino

“I have to go; I’m on the early flight.” She lifts my hand and kisses the back of it.

“Go where?”

“Portugal.”

“The fuck you doing there?”

“Working.” She gets up and returns to packing her things. “I’m a location scout, my job is to find…” she air-quotes her next word, “…locations.”

I prop myself up onto my elbow as I try to wake myself up, damn it, I’m tired. “Location scout?”

“Vila Joya.”

“And you have to go right now?” I sit up against the headboard. “You can’t go tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately not.”

She disappears into the bathroom, and I can hear her packing her toiletries, I get up and lean on the doorjamb as I watch her.

She’s quiet and pensive and throwing things into her beauty case with force.

There’s an underlying anger radiating out of her and somehow it feels like the mood between us has gone from magical to something off.

“What time’s your flight?” I ask.

“Soon.” She glances at the time on her phone. “I have to get going now, actually.”

“I’ll get my driver….”

“No.” She brushes past me back into the bedroom. “I’ve already got a lift organized.” She looks over her shoulder as she zips up her suitcase and forces a half smile. “Thanks anyway.”

I stand still, rooted to the spot, waiting for her to finish packing while wondering what the hell to say to make things better between us. She eventually finishes up and smiles up at me. “I have to go.”

I slide my hands around her waist, pull her in for a hug. “Can I see you again,” I whisper against her temple.

“That depends.”

I pull back to look at her face. “On what?”

“Where do you see yourself in five years from now, Valentino?”

Huh?

For fuck’s sake…. It’s too early for this bullshit….

Why ruin it?

“What do you mean?” I reply.

“It’s not a hard question, where do you see yourself in five years?” she repeats.

I frown. “Firstly, don’t give me attitude with it’s not a hard question. What’s with that fucking bullshit?”

She gives a shake of her head as she realizes how abrasive she sounded. “That didn’t come out right. Sorry.”

“Damn straight it didn’t.”

She slides her hand around my waist. “What I meant to say was….” She tilts her head as if getting the wording in her head right first. “How do your next five years look like, I mean in a perfect world.”