Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (4 page)

“I told you that I needed to consult…someone about my decision.”

“You said you were going to meet some people. Not a guy.” He refused to show how hurt he felt.

“It was Marc Blass. Not that it’s any of your business. I’ve mentioned him before. He’s one of the most influential men on Wall Street and a good contact. He knows the president at Synergy Plus, and I needed his advice. Besides, I don’t know why you’re worried. He’s married,” Carmala said with emphasis.

As angry as she was, he loved how her big hazel eyes lit up the bar’s darkness. How her long dark curls bounced as she spoke. She was so petite and fragile; all he wanted to do was protect her, to pull her into his arms and stop this argument.

The waiter approached their table and must have realized they were arguing because he did an about-face.

Good riddance.

“Marriage doesn’t mean anything. And I don’t like how he’s so familiar with you. I saw the way he kissed you. You said he has a wife and kids in Long Island, right?” He reached for his cell phone.

She tossed a wary look at his cell phone. “Yes, why?”

“So what’s the penthouse on Park Avenue for?” Poking at his cell, he searched for the appropriate application.

“Guido, how did you find me?” She glared at his phone.

“I have my ways, Carmala. Everything’s traceable with these things.” He dangled his device in triumph. “That’s the risk people take when they get this kind of technology. Cool stuff.” When she rolled her eyes, he hesitated but didn’t give her a chance to speak. Why didn’t she appreciate the lengths he’d go to protect her? “I’ll bet he has women on the side to bring to his lair. I could easily prove it to you. Then you’ll see I have a reason to worry about you.”

“It’s not his lair,” she blurted, her voice a screamed whisper. “His house is two-and-a-half hours away, and he stays in the city on late nights. Plenty of New Yorkers do the same thing. And you have no right to follow me around with that gadget. It’s despicable that you would resort to such ridiculousness. Do you think you own me?”

Guido could not fathom why her face flushed with anger. She had no clue how dangerous this city was.
He
should be the one who was upset. Guido blurted out, “You’re lucky I didn’t see anything going on, girl!” He just couldn’t stop himself and regretted the slip of his tongue as soon as he uttered it.

Her face turned two shades redder. He was on the brink of losing her, so he decided to change gears and appeal to her emotions. “You know I’m only a hardworking electrician, not a Wall Street power monger like that guy Marc. I guess I’m not good enough for you, huh?”

Carmala abruptly pushed out her chair and stood. “Tell you what, Guido.” She jammed her arms into her coat. “You can take your GPS and shove it. I’m going home, by myself. Don’t you dare follow me!”

She walked out and left him sitting there.

To hell with her, he wasn’t going to waste his time following her. She’d come around. How could she not? He knew she loved him. She missed the entire point. She needed to realize he had only her best interests at heart.

Chapter Three

Carmala slammed her apartment door behind her, bolted, and chain-locked it. Relief washed over her. Guido hadn’t followed her or called her cell. Thank God. She put on her pajamas, made a chamomile tea, crawled on to the couch, and pulled a comforter over herself. But she needed to vent, and there was only one person to reach out to. One girl who’d totally understand her frustration. And even at nine o’clock on a Friday night, she’d bet her best friend Margo Spamozzi would still be at work.

Sure enough, Margo was at the office, working late as usual. She listened as Carmala recounted Guido’s jealous behavior at Delmonico’s.

“Carmala, you really need to get a grip. You’re constantly on an emotional roller coaster with him. One day you’re happy, the next day you’re not. Have you even listened to that expensive counselor?”

Margo was probably right about Guido, but Carmala didn’t want to hear it. Or maybe she didn’t want to face the truth. Margo always had a way of pointing out things Carmala didn’t want to see for herself. She and Margo had been close since high school. But when Carmala dropped out of the all-girls school in her junior year, they’d lost touch for a while. And ever since they’d reunited, Margo had assumed an air of superiority with Carmala. And she wasn’t sure this attitude would ever go away.

Not that Carmala had let anyone’s opinion stop her. As a teenager, she was told she couldn’t go to college without a high school diploma. In fact, she’d earned her GED and gone on to college. Even made the honors program. Sometimes rebellion spurred on action. At least, it always worked for her.

“We only went to counseling a couple of times,” she said. “Guido charmed the crap out of the counselor and made it seem like everything with our relationship was peaches and cream.”

“Personally, I can’t see how the counseling is worth your time or money. He’s not going to change.”

“The insurance paid for most of the expense.”

“You’re a bright, successful, and beautiful woman. Why hang out with a loser because he’s easy to look at?”

Usually Margo lent her most sympathetic ear. Perhaps Carmala had complained too much to Margo, and now she was tired of hearing about the Guido problems. Heck, Carmala was tired of talking about them. Yet she couldn’t help feeling chided. Couldn’t her friend just agree with her instead of preaching? This certainly wasn’t the expected reaction. Carmala turned on her television and searched through the recorded programs. “It’s not that simple.”

“I think you need to have a man around.”

Carmala bristled at the comment. “That’s not true. I came to Manhattan by myself and worked here close to a year before I met Guido.” Why should she have to defend herself? To her best friend, no less?

“You met him after only six months after your move, right? All I’m saying is that you’re not sixteen anymore. You should consider dating someone on your professional level. Someone like a stockbroker or business manager. You complain about the lack of intellectual stimulation Guido gives you, yet you go out with him. What the hell do you expect? I think he has a lot of personal hang-ups that you refuse to face, and you’re affected by them.”

Carmala’s defense mechanisms kicked in. “So what if he couldn’t go to college? He was the sole provider for himself and his mom. Besides, there’s a heck of a lot more to him. He’s an avid reader and quite supportive of my career, most times. And wonderful in bed.” What else could she say?

“You could train
any
man to be good in bed. He’s lucky to have you, Carmala. I still don’t get why you broke off with Bill Cicieri. Now he’s a successful stockbroker on Wall Street.”

Yeah, Bill. She loved him to death, but not
that
way. She had no regrets. They were good friends today, and that worked for both of them.

Carmala located her reality television shows on her DVR
.
Nothing like getting lost in the real housewives of society New York or Beverly Hills and forgetting her own problems. “It’s easy for you to condemn the relationship because you have Mr. Perfect in Timmy.”
And
Margo met him only because Carmala’s then boyfriend introduced Timothy Hopkins to Margo. She was one of the lucky few still with her high school sweetheart.

“It’s not all perfect, and it takes work. I’ve had to make a lot of sacrifices.”

“I know a good relationship doesn’t come easy.” The conversation was getting Carmala nowhere but annoyed. She wanted out of it. So much for venting. “I’m sorry I bothered you tonight.” She clicked an episode, pushed play, and set the volume low enough so Margo couldn’t hear it.

“It’s not a bother, Carmala. I want to see you happy.”

“I am
happy.” Even though she overused her complaining privileges with Margo, she still loved her. “I wish we could spend some time together. I miss you.”

She hadn’t seen Margo in over a month, although they worked within twenty blocks of each other. However, as a top-producing loan officer at D.C. Mutual, Margo practically worked around the clock.

“We’ll get together for drinks next week. How does that sound?”

“Great. I look forward to it.” Like
that
would happen.

“Listen, I gotta go, I’ve got a client calling on the other line. Their deal is about to fall apart.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Why was Margo so down on Guido? He did the best he could to keep up with Carmala.

She knew Guido’s behavior was erratic, strange, and even unhealthy. Yet he’d tried so hard to please her. He attended her black-tie affairs, hobnobbed with high-powered professionals, and maintained his poise and charm as best he could.

And
she
tried hard not to throw her profession in his face. She built him up and made him feel he did important work. Which he did. And now that she was considering a job with a potential seven-figure income, he had to feel even more inadequate.

Yet Guido’s childish jealousy annoyed her to no end. She’d caught him reading her texts and e-mails on her phone, and as for the stalking, it never surprised her when he unexpectedly popped up almost anywhere.

For some ungodly reason, and despite his flaws, she wanted to make the relationship work. She’d invested too much emotional energy to turn back now. But how could she make it work when Guido totally denied that his behavior was out of the ordinary? His illogical mind believed he was protecting her and that his actions proved he cared for her. He manipulated her. And while she wanted to give him due credit for all the good he did, she feared that if she continued to permit his behavior, her independence would be lost.

The stunt he pulled at Delmonico’s made her want to run from the relationship. He made her feel like his doormat. And he would continue to wipe his dirt off on her until doomsday. Margo was right about his hang-ups affecting her. Maybe she had concentrated so much effort on making things work that she glazed over
how
his behavior really affected her.

Maybe she was simply dating beneath her.

She turned up the volume on the show in progress. Her kitties crawled up on the couch to cuddle with her. At least she had her furry friends. But even the comfort of her pets couldn’t prevent memories of a long-ago past from creeping in her consciousness.

She’d dropped out of high school to be with her first boyfriend, Anthony Forchello. What started as a fairy-tale romance had ended with one too many black eyes. She’d been weak, almost helpless, and no matter what had happened in her life, she vowed she’d never go there again.

She cringed at the very thought of being struck by a man again. A man she’d been intimate with. Violence at the hand of someone she believed she loved was the ultimate insult. Would Guido be so blinded by his own jealousy that he, too, would resort to violence?

She shuddered. No way. She didn’t have that kind of relationship with Guido.

Or did she?

****

After the conversation with Carmala, Margo sighed. She had no life. Why couldn’t she get her work done during normal business hours? Here it was, after nine o’clock on a Friday night, and she was the only one left in the office. As usual.

Bored with the dead-end mortgage file in front of her, she considered Carmala’s relationship with Guido. What was it that kept her emotionally tied to him? He wasn’t right for her. And why did Carmala continue to hold hope that Guido would be what she expected in a partner?

Ever since high school, Carmala had made poor decisions about her relationships with the opposite sex. Her boyfriend at the time, Dan—the one who introduced Margo to Timothy—was a nice guy. For a while, they’d double-dated. Then Carmala suddenly broke off with him, and everything went downhill from there.

Carmala’s real problems started when she picked that grease-head Anthony. Maybe Margo wouldn’t have severed her ties with her back then if she hadn’t lied. Carmala had used Margo as her alibi for many fibs to her parents. If Carmala’s parents hadn’t slapped a restraining order on the guy and threatened him with charges of statutory rape, Carmala may never have found the right path again.

After not speaking to her in years, Carmala had reached out to Margo in college. And Margo couldn’t have been prouder of her younger friend when she’d been admitted to college with only a GED. Not that a GED wasn’t acceptable. It obviously worked for her. But Carmala could have graduated from a private high school with honors.

Margo still couldn’t get over the fact that she dumped Bill Cicieri. At least he had his shit together.

If Carmala had only followed Margo’s example. Timmy was a good husband, did well as a professor in the Department of Economics at the prestigious Tate University. He’d never get in the way of Margo’s career, like Guido, who she feared would derail Carmala. Timmy was her constant beacon of support. The perfect man.

Margo forced herself to focus on the problematic mortgage file on her desk. She could smell defeat in the air. Her experience had taught her that a bad deal never got better, yet her ego wouldn’t allow her to let it go. Regardless of the hour, she wanted to address the last e-mail from underwriting before she went home.

For God’s sake! Now they wanted another biweekly paystub. The paystubs on file were evidently too old. She dreaded calling Mr. Hay. Maybe she’d be able to get a new paystub directly from his employer’s website for job verification. The bank used the website to process his initial application, so she should still have access. She located his name and clicked on pay history. Next to the biweekly paystub for the last pay period a word stood out: terminated.

Wasn’t that just wonderful?

Her office phone rang.

“Hey honey, how are you?” Timmy asked.

“Busy as hell and sinking fast.” She clicked out of the job verification website.

Ah, hell, she’d still have a good closing month, even if she lost the Hay loan. She should just go home already.

“Then it’s time to call it a night. You’ve been there over twelve hours. I have dinner waiting, and I’m saving my appetite for you.”