A Deal With De Niro

Chapter 8

Shannon let herself into her apartment and immediately headed for the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine and sitting down at the dining table. The white roses Marcus had given her were still in the vase, but they were starting to wilt a little – just like her hopes for a real future with him.

She thought about her dinner with Blaine – how easy it had been to talk to him, how much she’d enjoyed his company, how his kiss on the forehead had made her feel safe and warm. She’d gone into the night thinking of him as just a business partner, just someone she had to marry to save her family’s company. But now… now she wasn’t so sure.

There was more to Blaine Alistair De Niro than met the eye. He was hurt, broken even, just like she was. He’d built walls around himself to keep people out, just like she had. And even though he said he didn’t believe in love, she could see it in his eyes when he talked about his mother – he cared deeply, he just didn’t know how to show it.

She stood up and walked to the corner of her living room where she kept her paintings – a small collection of watercolors she’d done over the years. There were flowers from her grandmother's garden, cityscapes of Manila at night, a portrait of her mother that she’d painted from an old photograph. She picked up one of her favorites – a painting of the sunset over Manila Bay, oranges and pinks and purples blending together in soft waves.

She’d painted it on a day when she’d felt particularly alone, when she’d needed to escape from the pressure of being the López heiress, the perfect COO, the daughter her father wanted her to be. Painting had always been her way of dealing with her emotions, her way of making sense of the world.

She thought about Blaine’s penthouse – how empty it was, how there was nothing in it that showed who he really was. No photos, no personal touches, no sign that anyone actually lived there. He’d told her home was where your family was, but she wondered if he’d ever had a place where he could just be himself – no business suits, no important calls, no expectations.

She picked up her phone and sent him a text message: Hope the Milan problem gets sorted out soon. Let me know if you need anything – even just someone to talk to. – S

She didn’t expect him to reply – it was almost eleven o’clock, and he was probably still at the office. But a few minutes later, her phone buzzed: Thanks. Problem’s fixed – just needed to make some tough calls. Your painting tomorrow night? I’m looking forward to it. – B

Shannon smiled, putting her phone down and looking at her painting again. Maybe this marriage wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe they could be friends – real friends, not just business partners pretending to be married. Maybe, just maybe, they could help each other heal the wounds that life had left them with.

But then she thought about Marcus, about how much she’d loved him, about how much it had hurt to let him go. She thought about Blaine’s father, about how love could make you blind, make you weak. She thought about her father, about the company that was depending on her to make this marriage work.

It’s just dinner, she told herself again, putting the painting back on the shelf and heading for bed. Just friends. Nothing more.

But as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Blaine’s amber eyes and warm smile, she knew she was lying to herself. Something was happening between them – something she couldn’t explain, something she couldn’t control.

And for the first time in her life, she didn’t know if that was a good thing… or the worst thing that could ever happen to her. She pulled the covers up to her chin, feeling the weight of everything she was carrying, and whispered a quiet prayer that she was making the right choice.