An Uncertain Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) (15 page)

Several
of Valerie’s friends from college came to the microphone and told anecdotal
stories from their time together at school. It lightened the mood a little. The
next person to approach the microphone totally surprised me.

She
spoke softly, trying to hold back her tears. “Hi, I’m Nicole Terry. I’m a food
stylist, too, like Valerie. I’d only just met Valerie a couple of weeks ago,
but even in that short time, she was such an inspiration to me. She was
exceptionally talented, extremely gracious, and I could tell she really loved
life. I don’t know how many of you know this but she had agreed to assist me in
shooting Sergio’s new book. I knew she was making a huge concession working as my
assistant because she was used to being in charge, but she really wanted to be
involved in the project, so she agreed to do it. Valerie laid down the ground
rules, though, and even printed them out for me to be sure I understood how it
was going to work.” This got a chuckle from the crowd. “At first, I was put off
by it, but the more I thought about the situation, the more I respected her for
standing up for herself. Valerie made me rethink a lot of things, even how I
approach life, and I’ll never forget her for it.” Everyone applauded as she
walked away with tears streaming down her face. Robert and Joy hugged her
before she was absorbed back into the crowd.

Dane
got up and tried to speak. The words just wouldn’t come out. He began sobbing
again. Robert and Joy hugged him, and they all cried together. Cy took over the
microphone. “We’re happy you’re all here to celebrate Valerie’s life. Please
stay as long as you would like. Thank you.”

Within
an hour, just about everyone had gone, and the restaurant staff was cleaning
up. Robert and Joy finished up thanking everyone and came over to say good-bye.
“Please stay in touch with us, Bridget,” Joy said. “We feel like you and Dane
are part of the family, and we would like to keep it that way.”

“I
will. Please have a safe trip back, and let us know if there’s anything we can
do for you here,” I said.

“Thank
you,” Joy and Robert said in unison, and they were out the door.

Sergio
was heading toward me. I had to steer the conversation away from where I
thought it was heading earlier.

“When’re
you leaving for the coast?” I asked.

“Sometime
tomorrow. Bridget, I….”

I
cut him off before he could say another word. “Well, shoot me an e-mail or a
text, and let me know how you’re doing. Maybe when you get back, we can have a
drink.”

The
expression on his face told me he wasn’t going to push it.

“Okay,”
he said, and kissed me on the cheek before he left. We both needed the time to
think.

It
was a relief that the studio was closed for the week after the celebration. I
was having a hard time keeping my focus on anything, and I still felt exhausted
from the stress. It still felt like a dream – actually, more like a nightmare.

On
Thursday, Sally checked in with me. “How’re you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m
still kinda shaky, trying to get my energy back. It still hasn’t really sunken
in that Valerie’s gone. I guess it’ll be more real when I get back to the
studio next week and she’s not there.”

“I’m
sure it’ll take a while before things find a normal rhythm again.”

“How
‘bout you? What’s up in your world?” I asked.

“Well,
I wanted you to know there was a major warehouse fire in New Jersey last night.
It appears it was Clay Orwell’s art studio, and they think the fire was set
intentionally. Clay was dead before the fire started, and although he was
burned beyond recognition, the tattoos are unmistakable. Of course they’ll test
the DNA to be sure, but there’s little doubt it’s him.

“Wow,
that’s unbelievable! Does that close the case?”

“No,
it just means it’s going to be that much harder to track down the stolen art.
It’s still out there, along with the people who bought it, probably knowing it
was stolen. There’s a long way to go on this.”

“You
know I have to ask if this has any impact on me,” I said somewhat facetiously,
knowing what the answer would be.

“I
wish I could say it was over and you have nothing to worry about, but you know
that’s not the case. I guess with Clay gone, there’s no one who’s met you in
person, so that potentially reduces your risk. But why take the chance?”

“I
know, Sally,” I said resigned. “Still, wishful thinking. I have to say, I feel
a little better with Clay out of the picture, though. He’s the one I worried
about showing up on my doorstep.”

“Yeah,
the only thing that would have been better is if the FBI had been able to catch
him and actually track down the stolen art. At this point, it may never
surface.”

“Man,
this thing really won’t end, will it?”

“Probably
not for a very long time, if ever. But if you stay under the radar, you shouldn’t
ever have to worry about it.”

“I
get it, Sally. No taking chances. Thanks for the update. I always want to know
if there’s progress.”

“I’ll
keep you posted if anything else develops. In the meantime, you take care of
yourself and get some rest.”

“Thanks.
I’ll try.”

When
I hung up, I experienced a sense of calm that I hadn’t felt since I arrived in
Portland. With Clay Orwell gone, I wouldn’t be looking for him over my shoulder
every day. But, on the other hand, that also meant I wouldn’t be able to immediately
identify someone else who might be looking for me.
Ugh!
Sally had the
best advice, though: stay under the radar, and stop worrying. Words to live by.

**

On
Monday when Dane and I returned to the studio, it was in a shambles. No one had
been there since the CSI team had turned it upside down, looking for evidence.
We had our work cut out for us to get it back in shape.

We
started to tidy up, but Dane fell into a chair at the bar and said, “This’s too
much for us. I’m calling the cleaning service.” He got them on the phone
quickly and scheduled a crew for that afternoon.

Dane’s
gaze was contemplative as he looked around the room. “Bridget, I’ve given a lot
of thought to moving. I wasn’t sure if I could handle being here after
everything that’s happened, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I
think Valerie would want us to be here. She would want us to be working in her
kitchen. I feel connected to her here and think we should stay.”

“I
think you’re right, Dane. Valerie was very proud of this space. I think she’d
want us to carry on that tradition.”

“So
let’s do it. We need to get in touch with Sergio and see what he wants to do
about the book. I hope he’s still on board with shooting it here. Valerie
always said she didn’t want to hold up progress. She would want us to keep
going on it.”

“I’ll
get in touch with Sergio and see what he thinks about it. He should be back
from the beach by now.”

“I
think it would be healthy for us to get it going again soon,” Dane said, exhibiting
more energy and enthusiasm by the minute.

“I’m
on it….”

“Bridget,
it’s so wonderful to hear from you,” Sergio said as he answered his phone.

“How’re
you feeling?” I asked.

“The
time away helped me very much. It was exactly what I needed to put things in
perspective,” he said with a more upbeat attitude than I’d expected.

“I’m
so glad to hear that. I think the time away from the studio was good for Dane
and me, too. We were just talking, and he has decided not to move. He wants to
carry on Valerie’s legacy from her kitchen.”

“That’s
very good news. It seems appropriate,” Sergio said.

“Have
you thought any more about the book? Do you want to move forward with it?” I
asked.

“I
have, and I think we should get going on it if you and Dane are up for it. But I
don’t want to be on such a tight schedule. We’ve all been through a lot, and I
think we should take it slowly. Can we get together and talk about it, maybe
just the two of us?” he said with a somewhat suggestive tone.

“I’d
like that,” I said, more flirtatious than I intended.

“Will
you come to my place for dinner?” he asked.

“That
would be nice. Let me check back with you in a little while, though. We’re
trying to get this place cleaned up from the mayhem, and I don’t want to leave
Dane here by himself to deal with it.”

“Of
course. I’m not going anywhere. All the restaurants are closed tonight, so you
can come by any time.”

“Okay,
I’ll be in touch later. Thank you, Sergio.”

“I
look forward to seeing you, my sweet.”

I
went back into the studio and found Dane picking up odds and ends.

“Did
you reach him?” Dane asked.

“Yes,
and he’s ready to get going again on the book. He wants to open up the schedule,
not work against a deadline. He feels like everyone’s been under so much stress
that he wants to take the pressure off.”

“Seriously?!”
Dane fell back into his chair at the bar. “That’s music to my ears. It’s really
going to make everything so much better.”

“We
have to figure out the food styling though. Nicole’s still the key, but she’ll
need an assistant. She’s probably worked with someone she’s comfortable with,
so I’ll call her about that. I think you should meet the person she is
considering to be sure you’re comfortable with them too.”

“Okay.
Once this place is put back together and we can take a breath, we’ll get Nicole
over here to figure out the assistant situation, and hammer out a schedule. I
can’t tell you what a relief it is that the deadline isn’t driving this train
anymore.”

“It’s
a relief that
Adele’s
not driving the train anymore.”

“Amen
to that.”

The
cleaning crew arrived at one to give the place a complete overhaul. By five o’clock,
the kitchen sparkled, and everything else was polished and back in place. Dane had
framed a couple pictures of Valerie he’d taken of her at work. She had her hair
up in a knot and was laughing as she meticulously glued sesame seeds onto a
hamburger bun with a pair of tweezers. She loved her work.

“Let’s
hang these here,” Dane said, holding them up next to the breakfast bar. “That
way she can always keep an eye on us.”

Around
six, I texted Sergio to let him know I was on the way. He texted back:
c u soon

**

When
the elevator door opened, Sergio stood still, leaning against the opposite wall.
He stared into my eyes and waited to see how I would approach him. I moved
toward him and held out my arms to hug him. He wrapped his arms around me,
lifting me from the floor in a tight embrace. He gently put me down as our lips
met and tongues danced in a long, wet kiss.

“I’m
so glad you’re here, Bridget.”

“It’s
wonderful to be in your arms,” I said with total abandon. I held his face in my
hands and our lips connected with the hunger for each other growing with each
passing moment.

He
took my hand and led me into the bedroom. The fire was flickering, and soft
music set the tone. The robe and slippers he had bought for me were laid out on
the chaise. He pulled my sweater over my head and began unbuttoning my blouse. Our
desire began to feed off each other. We shed the layers that separated our
souls and fell into each other’s arms, skin to skin. The release of emotions
was intense. We sobbed and kissed, holding each other tight, legs entwined
pulling closer as if we couldn’t get close enough.

“Oh,
Bridget, I was afraid you still wanted distance between us. I’ve felt so
isolated and alone.”

“I’ve
had a lot of time to think,” I said, trying to regain my composure as I wiped a
tear from his cheek. “Life is short, Sergio, and so unpredictable. It’s too
important that we go after the things that make us happy.”

“My
time at the beach was very cathartic, too,” he said. “I agree that we need to
pursue the things in life that give us pleasure. You give me great pleasure,
Bridget.” He kissed me gently, still holding me in a tight embrace. Our kisses
became more passionate, needy, as if filling the void we each had felt without
the other.

In
that moment, the rest of the world fell away, and being in his arms was the
only thing that mattered. His elegant hands caressed my curves and moved
through the soft folds that were aching for his touch. His breath hitched and a
smile came over his face as he discovered my wetness and readiness for him. His
erection was thick and hot, pressing against me. I stroked his shaft and began
to guide him inside me.

“I
want to taste your sweetness,” he whispered. He rolled on top of me and slid
down between my legs. He held my ass, tilting me into him as he parted my soft
folds. My back arched, and moans escaped uncontrollably, savoring every
titillating sensation from his skillful tongue. He took his time, gradually
unearthing my clit before sending me spinning at the moment of ecstasy. The
orgasm erupted though me. It fueled my already burning desire to feel him
inside me.

“Oh,
Sergio!” I cried out in pleasure. He reached under a pillow and quickly
unwrapped a condom and sheathed himself. As I moved on top of him, I laced my
fingers with his, stretching his arms over his head, and pressed my lips to his.
Amidst the complex emotions of our kisses, I maneuvered, taking his hardness
deep inside me. He gasped and arched, trying to maintain control as I raised
and lowered myself onto him.

“Oh,
my God, Bridget,” he said as he moved rhythmically with me. He pushed his head back
as he came hard. “Ahhh,” he cried at the peak moment of pleasure.

My
core tightened, responding to his rock-hard climax, sending another orgasm rifling
through me. I let go of his hands and fell onto his chest to try to catch my
breath. His heartbeat was pounding as much as mine.

After
a few moments, I slid down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. We
were totally emotionally connected.

“I
love being with you, Bridget,” he said softly.

“I’m
very happy here with you, too, Sergio, and I want to spend more time with you.”

Sergio
tilted my head up with his fingertip so I could look him in the eyes. “I’ve
thought a lot about it, and you were right about keeping our relationship under
wraps for now. It really isn’t anyone’s business, and we don’t need advice or
opinions. I’m sure everyone will have something to say about it if we make it
known.”

It
was a huge relief to hear those words coming from him. As much as I wanted to
be with him without secrecy, my witness protection status dictated that the
relationship remain covert or both of us could be in danger. And he was right;
many people would have an opinion about us getting involved just when the news
of his wife’s murder had surfaced.

“What
do you think?” he asked.

“You’re
right. With everything that’s changed, I’d like nothing more than to scream to
the universe how much I love you, but I’m not sure anyone around us would
understand right now. Let’s get the books done. By then, it’ll be
understandable that we’ve become close.”

“Maybe
it won’t take that long. I think we’ll know when the time is right, but for
now, it can be our little secret,” he said with a smile as he rolled over and
pulled me close.

“I
love secrets....”