The Last Round (13 page)

It’s as if we haven’t missed a beat and have fallen right back where we left off.

I’ve missed him so much. I’ve ached for him.
I dreamed of nights like this where we were better, that our love wasn’t lost, and we were like what we used to be.

But then reality sets in and I’m reminded of everything between us and I lose the ache for him. I can’t believe I allow myself to lose my sanity the moment he kisses me. With everything in me, I press my hands against his chest and shove him off of me.

Angry, I glare at him. “What is your problem?” I hiss.

A smirk lingers at his now red smeared lips. “You don’t seem to have a problem.”

Still in a daze from the robbery of his kiss, I let out a deep breath and straighten. “You’re crazy!”

“If I’m crazy, then you’re crazy,” he argues.

I pace around the terrace; he stands tall and fucking handsome in his suit, hair disheveled from me tugging at it. He stares at me with broad shoulders as he buttons his jacket. My stomach quivers. I
want
him, but I
hate
him for making me
love
him all at once. It makes me feel sick. “Why haven’t you signed the divorce papers?” I throw in his face.

His nostrils flare. “Because this is obviously not over!”

I stumble back, his words hitting me all at once. “It is, Julian. It is for me.”

He laughs, I narrow my glare. His chuckle deepens. “From the way your body reacted to our kiss just now, there’s no mistaken you
are
not over
us
.”

I groan, my hand finding its way through my hair. I need to think. “Please don’t do this to me.”

“I’m just speaking the truth, Natalia. You can stand and lie to yourself, but we both know the truth. You can hide from me for months, years even, but we will always find a way to be with each other.”

“This is not a game! This is my life, not some sick game, Julian.”

“I’m not playing games. You are.”

We stare at each other. My eyes linger over his for an eternity and I almost yield, I almost give in. There’s something inside me that’s tugging at me that wants to give in to him. An undeniable magnetic chemistry.

“Natalia?”

My head snaps toward the entrance. Liam steps onto the balcony.
Oh God
. Julian’s back is facing Liam. Julian tilts his head, looking back, then when he notices who it is he looks back at me, almost dismissing Liam. Julian’s expression grows firm.

I swallow.

“Are you okay?” Liam asks, cautiously. His eyes trace from Julian to me and back to Julian.

“Yes, Liam. Can you give me a few minutes? I’ll be back soon.”

Liam hesitates. “Okay . . . are you sure you’re okay?”

“She said she’s okay,” Julian voices, his tone deadly.

“Liam yes, please, give me a minute. Thank you.” I urge him with my eyes to just walk away.

Still a bit hesitant, Liam steps back, nods and walks away, leaving Julian and me alone again.

Julian looks at me, his eyes narrowing. “You moved pretty fast.”

“Liam’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Does he know that?” Julian argues.

I raise both my hands. “Why are we talking about this? It’s none of your business, Julian. We’re over, remember?”

“Technically, you’re still my wife.”

I groan. “Sign the papers. That’s all you need to do.” I lift my dress a bit and begin walking past him. Julian grabs my arm, stopping me. We’re side by side and I can feel him staring down at me.

“I’m sorry.” His words soften. “Please, let’s talk. We need to talk.”

I shut my eyes. “Every time we talk it goes bad. I don’t want to argue anymore. I’m so exhausted.” I turn my head and look up at him. His wounded features igniting something deep within me.

“I know. I’m sorry. Let’s get out of here. You and me, we’ll go somewhere private and just talk. We can have dinner. We don’t have to talk about us, we can just catch up. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I admit. I almost give in. Almost. I look straight ahead as I notice a beautiful woman join us on the terrace. She’s what we call in Hollywood, a true high-class dashing fashionista. Like she was born to be a star and raised with diamonds and gold. She’s breathtaking. She lightly smiles. “Julian, your speech is up.”

My eyes trace from her to Julian. “You moved fast.” I spill the same words he said to me about Liam.

“It’s not what you think, she’s my . . .” he mutters, but I cut him off.

“Save it, Julian. Your speech is up.” I pull my arm from his grip, storm past him and his date.

I can’t stay here any longer.

Natalia

“IT WAS JUST
weird,” I say as I toss myself back onto the bed. “And he was there with a date, Viv. A
date
,” I repeat through the phone. “But he had the nerves to make a smart remark about me being there with Liam. Can you believe that?”

“Wow.” Viviana yawns through the phone. “I can’t believe he was there, and with another woman at that. Did he mention anything else?”

I shut my eyes, frustration quickly fills my veins as I think of Julian. “He wants to meet up for dinner so that we talk things out.”

“Are you going to? I mean, you can’t avoid him forever, Natalia.”

I hate it when she’s right. It’s true, I can’t keep dodging him. It’s just difficult to stand in the same room as him and not be the way we used to be. That kiss last night was everything and more. It reminded me of our history and for a second, I felt okay again.

“I know. I think I’m going to call him today and schedule something. He still hasn’t signed the divorce papers. I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”

“He’s waiting for you to take him back.”

I stay silent through the speaker of my phone. With an exhale, I change the subject. “Well, I better get ready for this photo shoot.”

Viviana yawns again. “Okay, I’ll meet you there in an hour. Make sure you have a big breakfast because you’ll practically be there all day.”

Sighing, I stand and make my way toward the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes have heavy bags. Clearly I’m tired. “Is this the nude shoot?” I ask, nibbling on my thumbnail.

“Yes. Don’t worry it will be very sophisticated. No major parts will be shown, of course, and they promised me if you feel uncomfortable at all, we can use props, like layered pearls or accessories.”

“I don’t know. I’m really nervous. I don’t want to come off as trashy, and I definitely don’t feel comfortable in my own skin yet.”

I can hear her jump out of bed just as I run the shower.

“Are you kidding me? You are in the best shape of your life. You look hot, momma! Embrace those curves and show it off for the world to admire.”

My sister laughs, but my nerves jolt, finding their way to the pit of my belly. I have worn bikinis before, especially for photo shoots, and even then I always felt uncomfortable. But once you come into the limelight, so many insecurities come to surface. I have a certain image I have to uphold and any wrong move, no matter how small, will spread like a wildfire. Which is probably a major reason why I’m having doubts about this shoot.

I end the call with my sister after promising her I’ll make the shoot on time. Then I hop in the shower to get ready.

After I dress, blow dry my hair and shove my boots on, I hear a knock at the hotel door. I open it. It’s two bellboys; one with room service, and the other holds the largest bouquet of red roses I’ve ever seen in my life. He holds a tall glass vase, with at least ten dozen stunning five-foot-stem red roses. Eyes wide, my smile brightens. I step aside allowing them to pass me as they enter. The tray with my breakfast is set on the coffee table by the living area. The other bellboy crooks his neck over the large bouquet. “Where would you like the roses, ma’am?”

“Um.” Giddy, I search the area. I can’t contain myself. I have never seen such beautiful roses. “Over there is fine!” I point by the window, across from the coffee table. The young man cautiously navigates to the desired destination and gently places the vase down.

“Phew.” The young man deeply exhales. “Those were heavy.

“Who are they from?” I ask in amazement.

He hands me an envelope. “They were delivered this morning. Here’s the card.”

“Thank you.” I quickly find my purse and give them both a big tip. Once they leave, I hurry over to the sofa, nestle down and grab the card. I rip the red envelope apart and open the card.

A dozen for every year married. I want nothing more than to one day send you 25 dozen. I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you always. Please meet for dinner tonight. Julian.

My eyes trace from the card to the most stunning display I’ve ever laid eyes on. I sit and think. I continue to think and think and think some more. My mind races with so many scenarios. So many thoughts.
Screw it.
 I swipe my phone off of the table and dial his number. Leg bouncing, I second-guess myself. Should I just hang up? What exactly am I doing? What am I going to say?

And before I can even think of ending the call before it starts, he picks up. His tone low, gruff. “Hello.”

“Hi. Good morning.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He clears his throat. “Natalia?”

I answer a heartbeat later. “Yes.”

The bed squeaks as he moves around in the bed. I can only guess he sits up. Julian clears his throat again. “I’m up. I’m up,” he rushes out.

I stifle a laugh. “I just want to thank you for the roses. Julian, they are absolutely beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. You deserve them and so much more.”

“Can I ask you something?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“Who was your date? Is that something serious or a fling?”

“Natalia, she wasn’t my date. Kim Campos is my PR rep. She planned the event and forced me to come to the gala last night. She practically dragged me out the door. She thought it would be good for my image. I guess she was right. But in a way, I’m actually happy she forced me out last night.”

“Why?”

“Because I was able to see you. You were the most beautiful woman at that entire event. And that red dress was just . . . wow.” He sucks in a deep breath. “I couldn’t help myself. I needed to touch you. To kiss you, and I’m not apologizing for my actions.”

I bite my lip; heart lurching, I let out a soft sigh. My hand shakes as the nerves float through my veins. “Okay,” I finally say, confirming.

“Okay?”

“I’ll meet you for dinner tonight.”

“Good,” he answers, hope lingers in his voice. “I’ll text you the information. This is your new number?”

“Yeah. You can save it.” My cheeks heat up. I’m actually embarrassed; I can’t believe I tried everything to avoid him, even with changing my phone number. “I’m so sorry, Julian.”

“For what?” he asks, confusion hinting his tone.

“For changing my number and not telling you. I know you’ve been trying to get in contact with me. I just needed some space. It wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” he hesitates, then he blurts out, “Can I be honest?”

I sit up, fully alert by his words. Julian actually speaking his mind is unusual. So I take advantage of this moment. “Of course, Julian.” I encourage.

“It was driving me fucking crazy not being able to reach you. There were so many times I needed to talk to you. I wanted to tell you so many things about me, what I was going through”.” He quiets, then he goes on. “And I wanted to apologize over and over again for everything. I don’t know. At first I was angry with you. I felt kind of betrayed.”

“
You
felt betrayed?” My words spill out a bit harsher than I wanted them to. I know he’s trying to speak his mind, but the fact that
he
feels betrayed makes me a little upset.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he huffs out frustrated. “I know I have no right to feel betrayed, but that’s how I felt. Maybe I’m not using the right word to say I how I felt. This is just hard for me. I just felt . . .”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt. “You’re right. Here you are trying to express yourself and I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep your thoughts to yourself, because of my reactions or outbursts. Go ‘head, tell me how you truly feel. I promise no more outbursts.”