His Beautiful Revenge

3. Chapter Three-2

Giacomo had now been to the Anthology three times and was feeling like somethings of a stalker. Finally Seb had told him that Norah Reddy had called and tomorrow was the day he would finally meet her. The few hours he had spent in her unknowing company, he had seen a woman who, above all else, was free. Free from vanity and free from expectations. He reminded himself that he did not really know her from those hours observing her, but he couldn’t help feeling excited about the meeting.

Tonight, however, Tara was sitting out on his balcony, smoking one cigarette after another and fretting about …what was it this time? Giacomo sighed and went outside, pinching a cigarette from her packet.

“What is wrong today?” He said, lighting the cigarette and inhaling deeply. He studied her. Tara, her denim-blue eyes large, was almost thirty, but she looked a good five years older. Sun damage and smoking had weathered her face, but it didn’t detract from her beauty. She gazed back at him steadily.

“Why have you never asked me to marry you?”

The question surprised Giacomo. They had never discussed marriage before. He leaned forward. “Because marriage has never figured into my plans,” he said honestly. “And, rightly or wrongly, I thought you would prefer to have a career rather than be shackled to me.”

And why would I marry someone who would cheat on me? Or is that why you are cheating on me?

Tara smirked. “My career is steady. I get the work of girls ten years younger.”

“I know that you do.”

“But I think of marriage, kids …”

“With me?”

Tara put out her cigarette. “Of course you.”

Giacomo smiled coolly. “I’m surprised.”

“Why?”

He met her gaze steadily, leaving the reason unspoken. Tara was the first to look away. “Whatever.”

She got up, but he caught her hand. “You are not happy, Tara.”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you leave?”

She didn’t answer, merely pulling her hand away. As she turned to leave, he saw, just for a moment, a flash of hurt in her eyes.

“Tara …”

“Don’t,” she said, her voice quivering, and disappeared back into the apartment. Giacomo felt like a heel, but told himself he’d done nothing wrong. You’re not the one who is cheating.

“Not yet,” he said, thinking of Norah Reddy’s pink lips and sweet smile. “Not yet.” He dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

Che cazzo di casino. What a f*****g mess.