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CHAPTER 31: Last Night in Milan
"How do you feel? Honestly."
Honestly? I search my insides first for the answer. "I'm…okay, I think."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I nod back, double checking that I'm not lying to myself.
Alice tells me Jasper has talked about Demetri before and he seems like a genuine person. What makes me feel better is when she tells me he recently got out of a long-term relationship, and apparently he's not looking into dating anyone anytime soon. Bringing up Edward somewhere in our conversation doesn't feel like such a bomb to drop during dinner now. I am relieved. Still, the way he was staring at me yesterday is still bewildering.
Our room phone suddenly rings. "I'll get it!" Alice practically skips to the table the phone is sitting on. "Hello?...Yes, she'll be right down." She hangs up and spins around. "It's the front desk. He's downstairs waiting for you." Prompt guy. Here exactly at five. I'm surprised and impressed.
"Okay, how do I look?" I do a slow 360-spin wanting my friend's approval.
"Bella, it's not a date. We've established that," she rolls her eyes, slightly laughing. "But if you want my humble, professional opinion you look fabulous."
"Of course I do. I'm wearing Alice Brandon," I playfully raise a snooty eyebrow at her.
The Hobbit pokes me on the side. "Have fun. Just make sure you're back by six-thirty. We need enough time to check in for our International flight."
"Yes, ma'am." I give her a quick hug and grab my clutch purse on the way out.
When I arrive in the lobby, Demetri has his hands in his pockets and looking around at the décor, almost in awe, much like me when I first arrived at the hotel. He finally glances in my direction and smiles. "Good evening, Bella." He bows his head slightly.
"Hi," I smile back.
"You look wonderful."
"Thanks." I blush. I thought only Edward could do that to me. But then again, I practically blush at everything. "Same to you."
"Shall we?" He motions me ahead of him with his hand.
The night air has gotten colder and I'm thankful for the pea coat jacket Alice has let me borrow. "So, where are we headed?"
"I did some research and there's a small restaurant within walking distance from here—an intimate place. We can catch up and talk casually. If it is one thing I hate is shouting at each other because it's either too crowded with chit-chat or the music is turned up loud enough to make your ears bleed."
I have to laugh. I hate those kinds of places, too. "Good call. I'd rather not leave with a sore throat." I'm also impressed he's done his homework on where to eat. I imagine him as a five-star restaurant kind of guy. Guess not. "So…when did you arrive in Italy?"
"About a month or so ago."
"And you've only now had a day off?" I stare at him in disbelief. That means he's been training non-stop around the clock.
Demetri softly laughs, almost embarrassed. "Well…no one ever said trying to make it to the Olympics was going to be easy."
The restaurant is a short walk from the hotel, like he says. There are fluorescent lights around the street, which almost looks like an alley way. It reminds me of the bar Alice and I went to in Volterra where Jasper and Edward surprised me by showing up without so much of a hint from that little pixie-haired designer. I don't want to think about Edward right now. He's already been such a distraction and I'm genuinely interested in what Demetri has been up to these past few years. Everyone seems to live such exciting lives as opposed to mine and I secretly like living vicariously thought them knowing how dull my existence is.
We're sitting at a table near the window facing the street so we can people watch as we eat. The waiter is an older, half-bald gentleman with a thick white mustache that slightly curves upward at the ends. He almost reminds me of the old man on the Chef Boyardee cans. He has friendly eyes and is patient with my order. "We have a wonderful venison dish, Signora," he says, pointing to it on the menu.
I inwardly shudder. "Thank you…but I think I'll just have your house salad and antipasto." He nods his head and jots down my order. Demetri orders some other kind of meat dish and a bottle of wine for us. He thanks the waiter after handing him our menus.
"I read the venison is actually pretty fantastic here. But I'm not a fan of gamey types of meat."
"Neither am I," I mutter. "I don't eat meat—period."
"Oh," Demetri looks surprised. It didn't occur to me that I should tell him that little fact about myself because there's usually something off a menu I can eat, no matter the type of restaurant—except for seafood places. Yuck! The thought of raw fish makes me want to release my breakfast into my purse. "You're a vegetarian then?"
"Yes."
"I apologize. I should have asked beforehand. We can go somewhere else if you like?" He's ready to scoot his chair back as soon as I give the word.
"No, it's fine—really. We've already ordered and I like this place."
With some apprehension Demetri relaxes back into his seat. "Maybe I should have done my homework on you a little better," he laughs softly.
"What homework?" I casually raise an eyebrow. What was he doing? Trying to Google me? I don't think there will ever be a Wikipedia page on my bio—or at least I hope not. Perhaps I should check what's on the Internet about me when I get back to L.A. in case there's some shocking information floating around out there about me and how I'm pregnant with twin alien babies. Since the paparazzi fiasco in Volterra, I've avoided the tabloids and television altogether to slow down any premature gray hairs due to stress.
"I merely asked Marcus about you." His smirk looks as if he's hiding something else.
"And what does good ol uncle Marcus say about me?" I lean into the table with my elbows. He's probably said to stay at least thirty feet away from me knowing full well of my clumsiness.
"He said you were a bright, young girl. Also in high demand it seems…but you didn't hear that from me."
Leaning back into my seat, I replay his words in my head. "What do you mean 'in high demand'? For what?"
"Well, news has gotten around that you've played a small role in Aro's film. Whether or not it will make it on the big screen, apparently enough people think you've got the talent to do other, smaller projects. My guess is mostly independent films for now until you've really got your foot in the door—by your own merits of course."
My head is swimming. What is he talking about? "You heard all this from Marcus?" The waiter returns with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand. He shows the bottle Demetri has selected to him and opens it after he approves. I remain silent until he's done pouring it into our glasses and leaves. I take a quick sip and jump back on track. The wine is good—light and crisp. "So tell me exactly what Marcus said and this whole acting thing." Maybe I really should get on the Internet when I get home.
He looks hesitant to tell me more. "Well…actually, he sort of heard it from…your uncle."
"My uncle?" I ask, shocked. "Aro?" I know we haven't spoken much—or at all—since I arrived in Milan but what's he been keeping from me?
"I really don't want to stir the pot." Demetri is beginning to look uncomfortable and that maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut. Well, it's too late for that! I want answers.
"Demetri—now is not the time to hold out on me. I am not willing to miss my flight so you better start talking." The more information I have before I return home, the better I can form my words and what I might want to say to my uncle while I practice on the long fight back to the other side of the world.
Defeated by my stern, unyielding glare, he finally gives in. "From my understanding Aro's been receiving calls from different agencies and movie producers asking about you and if you were pursuing a career as an actress. People on set said you did quite well for a last minute replacement. That's all I know—I swear." He put his hands up showing he wasn't hiding anything else up his sleeves.
Assessing him for a moment, he seems to be telling the truth. But now, I'm curious to know what's Aro's response to all this? Surely, he knows I didn't move to Los Angeles to become an aspiring actress just because he's a movie director. I've been around other movie sets of his when I was younger and some of the scenes are thrilling to watch but it never made me want to be a part of it. I only played that barista role as a favor for Alice. That's it.
"Just so you have the record straight—I don't want to be an actress. I'm not cut out for that type of profession. Whatever natural talent the critics blindly think I possess is only that of a clumsy oaf. I'm currently Alice's assistant, which even that I don't think I'm really cut out for either."
"Alice's assistant?" he gives me a surprised, almost impressed look. "That's great."
"It's a trial run. I've only been in the role for a couple of days," I add, taking another sip of my wine. He does the same and nods.
"So, what did you do in Los Angeles before becoming Alice Brandon's personal assistant?" Obviously, he knows how famous Alice has become over the last few years. I wouldn't be surprised if she starts designing some outfits for the Olympics next year.
"I was a barista at a local Starbucks near Aro's. But I'm sure you already knew that." Knowing how Marcus likes to aimlessly talk about a subject once you get him started, he's given Demetri more than my name, birthdate and height.
The blue-eyed Grecian chuckles, looking slightly embarrassed again. "Well, you know Marcus." I sure do. "He means well and my intentions were not to pry into your personal life. I just wanted to know a little more about you." There's that look in his eyes again as if he's thinking about something that he'll never tell me.
"Enjoy, my young friends." The waiter finally returns with our meals in hand and politely places my napkin on my lap. "Would you like anything else?"
"No, thank you," smiles Demetri. He bows his head, leaving us alone again.
"Now that you know I don't want to be an actress and many other things about me—tell me about you since I didn't get a chance to divulge information out of Jasper before he left. What have you been up to since I last saw you flailing in the Mediterranean Sea?" I tease with a smile before taking my first forkful of salad.
He shakes his head, amused, and finishes his first bite before answering. "Well…" he wipes his mouth with his napkin, "after our last encounter, I went back home to Greece with my uncle. Got into trouble a few more times and that's when I started running in races. My uncle—and a lot of the local market vendors—saw how fast I could run away to avoid getting caught for stealing food so he signed me up for track meets. One of the conditions to stay on the team was to stop stealing and well…getting into trouble altogether."
"Why did you steal?" From what I recall, his uncle Amun looked pretty dapper in his suites so I didn't understand his need for taking things that didn't belong to him. They seemed pretty well off. Aro told me when Demetri's parent died in a tragic plane crash Amun was appointed his guardian. He also said not ask him about them to be polite. As a kid back then who didn't understand the concept of losing a loved one, his loss didn't faze me because I still had both my parents.
"I don't know, really," he ponders on my question. "It's not that Amun was starving me or anything—he's been a great provider, inspiration and supporter of my career—but back then, I guess I felt like I had to prove my worth. Prove I could be independent and take care of myself without anyone's help. Without Amun's patience with me, I might have taken a different path in life. A more destructive one so I owe everything to him."
Demetri's story reminds me so much of Edward's and how the theatre saved him from a life of brawling and other unhealthy things. I shudder at the thought of what Edward could possibly be like today if he didn't discover his passion for acting. My wayward thoughts make me miss him and the ache in my heart growing. I wish it was Edward I'm having dinner with tonight—not that Demetri is bad company. It feels good to catch up with him, but my thoughts are really focused elsewhere. "I'm glad you've chosen a good path in life."
"As do I," he nods. "Are you…alright? I hope my story hasn't ruined your appetite." He's most likely sensed the change in my mood.
"Oh, not at all," I quip, sitting a little straighter. I smile to show I'm only teasing and try to change the subject to happier stories to steer my mind away from my unreachable boyfriend.
It seems to have worked from the warm, amused look on his face. "So, this Edward fellow—are you two serious?"
My stomach sinks to the floor and my arms go limp on the table. Not exactly the topic I'm gushing to talk about. And why's he asking? I mean it's good he knows I'm seeing someone, thanks to the paparazzi, but Alice's brother isn't someone want to discuss at this point in time. "Edward?" His name is the only thing my brain can transmit to my vocal cords.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to ask so abruptly. You don't have to tell me as it is none of my business. I was merely curious." He takes his napkin and wipes his mouth again looking for something else to talk about to salvage the growing silence between us.
"No…it's okay," I finally answer quietly. "I just haven't heard from him in a few days. That's all."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he's just busy being bombarded by the media and waiting to hold you in his arms again." He smiles kindly.
I appreciate his words but is it really true? No contact still seems so out of character for Edward. Even on set, no matter how busy he was with his scenes, he'd always find a second or two to text me. Now that he's back home does that mean the rules have changed when keeping in touch? If something tragically happened to him Emmett would contact us but I haven't received any calls from him either. I'm not even sure if Alice has had any form of communication with her siblings since she last called Emmett the other night on my behalf.
Demetri's question is lingering in my head. I'm assuming he's expecting some sort of answer from me. Edward and I have only been seeing each other for a short while—do I already consider us a serious couple? Does he? He did ask me to move in with him but does that signify us moving into the serious phase of our relationship? I don't know.
"We're pretty…committed," I answer slowly, testing the words to see if I believe it myself. 'Committed' is a good word—not too serious or open-relationship sounding for two people in our situation. "What about you? I hear you just recently got out of a long-term relationship." Time to turn the tables around! It might have been a little crass to ask but I'm tired of talking about my currently confusing love life.
Demetri tenses for a moment before relaxing again. "Beginning of this year…so I don't know how recent you would call it." His mood has changed like mine did earlier. Clearly, he doesn't want to talk about it and I can't compare my relationship with Edward to his since it's still so new.
"I'm sorry. I guess it's my turn to apologize for prying. Let's talk about something else."
"It's alright," he half-smiles. "It happened some time ago and I've accepted my mistake. I loved her…and I still do, but I don't think we can get back what we had. I hurt her greatly." His features turned grim, angry even—at himself or their situation? I'm not sure. It's such a different side to see from the happy, boyish Demetri earlier tonight. "I cheated on her."
"Oh…"
"With her sister."
"Oh!" I couldn't hide the shock in my voice. No wonder he's so upset. And if I were her I'd be an over flowing volcano myself! But I don't want to judge since I haven't heard the entire story. Charlie always says there are two sides to every coin. "I don't understand. I thought you said you loved her?"
"We were skiing in Sweden on vacation with her sister and friends, and her sister has always fancied me behind her back but I always refused her advances. I would never do anything to purposefully hurt her. They were out skiing late one night and I decided to retire early. I had an early flight the next day to Germany to prep for a race. As soon as I finished packing, her sister enters with a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses in hand. I refused the drink, of course, but she can be very persuasive," he rolls his eyes at the memory.
"And one thing led to another?" It wasn't hard to guess, especially with alcohol involved.
"Unfortunately, yes," he answers solemnly. "We finished half the bottle. Her sister walked in on us and you can imagine what happened next."
"I'm so sorry, Demetri." I can sympathize with the guy because it wasn't like he was the one doing the prowling. However, I'm not saying he's not at fault either.
"You're too kind," he says softly. "But, as they say…it takes two to tango. I'm equally to blame. I should have been more responsible and stopped what was happening…but what's been done has been done. And we can't change the past except to accept it and try to move on."
"She still pretty upset with you?"
"She is," he nods. "I would be, too. I don't have a brother, but if I caught her in bed with him…" Demetri shakes his head and finishes the rest of the wine in his glass. "I did a shit job in Germany and didn't even qualify for the next heat. My coach chewed me out until I was deaf for a month. It took me a while to get back to my professional standard—that's the reason why I'm a little behind in my training for the Olympics. And I vowed to never drink vodka again." The light humor in his eyes returns.
"What happened to the sister?"
"Oh, Irina wants nothing to do with her. She knows what happened but even so, she can't look at me the same way again. Her sister's personality has never been that popular with her either…or many people in fact," he mutters. "They try to stay in different countries if they can help it."
"Irina? That's a pretty name."
"Her name is Irina Romanov."
"Irina…Romanov?" I repeat. Why does that name sound so familiar? With eyes wide, I lean into the table. "Wait—you don't mean Irina Romanov of Romanov Vodka?"
"The very same," he nods with a small laugh. Now it makes perfect sense with the vodka. I've seen a few commercials for the different flavors of vodka the brand has—normally with sexy, half-naked girls in bikinis and fur boots showcasing a glass of it on ice. "She oversees the market sales of the product for her father."
"Oh, yes. Aton Romanov, right?" From what little I know of him, he's someone pretty important in Europe with lots of connections. He's a husky man, the size of a lumberjack if you ask me, and a bit of a womanizer, too, I hear. It's a miracle he can produce such a beautiful daughter…or daughters. I don't know what Irina's sibling looks like but I can guess model body with perfect features as well. "What's Irina's sister's name?"
My spikey-haired friend stops pouring wine into his glass midway. He looks frozen for a moment until he regains his composure again. "Actually, that's another topic I've been meaning to discuss with you."
"What do you mean?" I'm all ears as I set my empty glass down.
"Please hear me out before you get angry with me," he says calmly, pouring another round in my glass. Why would I be angry with him? My entire body is tingling and anxious about what he has to tell me. After a beat, he continues. "Her sister…or I should say, half-sister, is…Tanya Denali."
"What!" My brain to mouth filter has collapsed. The other diners in the restaurant stop their meals and glance my way to see what crazy person is disturbing their quiet evening. My heart rate has kicked into overtime and my fingers are itching to choke hold of something.
"Is everything alright, Signora?" our waiter discreetly asks me.
Taking a deep breath, I smile politely. "Yes, thank you." He smiles back apprehensively and hesitates to leave us alone again. Demetri is looking down at his glass, circling the rim with his finger waiting for me to calm down.
"What do you mean her sister is Tanya Denali? And what the hell are you doing cheating on Irina with her?" I hiss at him more quietly to avoid giving the diners a spectacle with their dinner. I swear that woman is the devil incarnate.
Demetri doesn't look happy about my reaction. "I told you it wasn't like that!" he quietly defends himself. "And she's Irina's half-sister." I don't care if she's Irina's bumpkin cousin twice removed! "Everyone knows how Aton Romanov loves women. He had a fling with Tanya's mother a long time ago when he was in New York. He only acknowledged Tanya as his daughter after her parents died but she had her maternal grandmother to take care of her so Aton only provided what her grandmother needed to raise her. Something Tanya never knew. It wasn't until they were teenagers when Aton finally introduced the two sisters to each other. Irina is older by a year and it upset her that her father cheated on her mother. She tried to accept Tanya as a sister but their relationship has always been rocky."
I now see how much more painful it was for Irina to know Demetri cheated on her because that's what her father did to her mother. Tanya being the other woman only fueled the fire even more. "Edward told me Tanya was an only child?"
"Which is probably the truth as far as he knows. Tanya isn't always forthcoming with factual information. Not many know they're related and those that do don't really talk about it…like it's taboo or something."
"So you've known about Tanya and Edward all along?" I suddenly feel like I'm having an out of body experience.
"Everyone does, love," he gives me a sympathetic look. "That's why I asked if you and he were serious. I don't want to see you get hurt. Tanya is very manipulative. She's used to getting her way."
"So I've heard," I roll my eyes. "Wait—so what are you saying? I can't trust Edward?" Demetri was so in love with Irina yet it still didn't stop him from cheating on her, whether or not by choice. Is that what he's saying about Edward? My paranoia is working double time.
"You can trust Edward. I've met him once when he was doing a location shoot in Monte Carlo. Seems like a good man. It's Tanya you have to be watchful of especially since she's back in California."
"So is Edward, meaning…" I trail off, panic sinking into my bones. I bet that cheating whore can't wait to get her dirty paws on him again. The thought is boiling to the surface of my scalp. He's mine and she can't have him! She's had her chance and he no longer wants her. I stand up, knocking my glass over. Demetri catches it before it has a chance to roll on the floor, the liquid spilling everywhere. "I'm sorry, Demetri, but I have to go. Thank you for dinner."
Racing out of the restaurant, I didn't even bother to wait for him to answer. Tears have escaped, blowing away from my cheeks as I run back to the hotel. The night air has gotten even colder, brushing against my face. I dial Alice in a frantic state and all I can do is cry as soon as I hear her voice on the other end. I need to get back to L.A.!
Author's Note: Sad but revealing. Stay tuned for more surprises!
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