Same/Difference (The Depth of Emotion #4) (12 page)

“Earth to Paige.” Elizabeth’s impatient tone interrupted my thoughts.

“What’s on your mind? We were laughing a minute ago and you zoned out.”

“Sorry.” I fumbled with the napkin then straightened and gave her my undivided attention.

“Is it him?”

I think I resented the question because her curiosity was maddening. She fixated on Falcon more than I did but, the truth was, she was right. I couldn’t hide it. The answer was evident by my surfacing smile.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “I can’t wait to meet this guy! Does he feel the same?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t think so—but maybe I know it will probably end when I leave. I helped him pass the time while he was here.”

Her tone was firm and her posture indignant.

“Don’t discount yourself, Chica. You’re smart and beautiful. He’d be an ass to take a woman like you for granted.”

“Please don’t say anything when you meet him tonight,” I pleaded. “Let’s just have a good time, okay?”

She scrutinized my sudden change and gave me an exasperated look.

“I’ve never seen you act like this, Paige. You’re excited one minute, and hesitant the next. Where is all this coming from?”

I drowned my emotions in my glass of iced tea as I slipped my apprehension under the cracking ice. I wasn’t sure how to answer her because I couldn’t articulate exactly how I felt. Falcon was more than I hoped for because I never dared to hope. I didn’t want Liz to see beneath the composed posture that hid my self-doubt.

Thankfully, she dropped the subject, although I knew it would be resurrected at some point, and instead she drew my attention to the sexy barista who was blatantly flirting with a customer. It was only a matter of hours before our date with Falcon.

F
or the remainder of lunch, Liz tried to lighten my mood with jokes and teasing—and she succeeded. I think the mood really lightened when she threatened to pull out all of her Latina charm and make Falcon forget about me—
if
that was what I wanted. She batted her long lashes in my face as she recounted the ways she could, and would, divert his attention. At one point she framed her beautiful light cocoa face with her fingers like in Madonna’s
Vogue
video. Any other woman would have made me feel the sharp pangs of jealousy, but Liz’s affection for me assured me that she was playing. She reminded me not to take myself so seriously and before I knew it my mood was more upbeat.
Thank God for girlfriends!
Women really do have the power to lift each other up, or rip each other up. It’s a choice.

I checked the time and saw that it was almost time to go. The dress I planned to wear was figure hugging and short, so I decided to add stilettos to create a
triple threat
effect. A part of me wanted to leave impressions that would make Falcon unable to forget me. Every time we went out I wanted to stamp a memory in his mind. Tonight was no exception.

I turned in the mirror, pleased that the dress I’d chosen showed off my assets and hid my deficits. Running my hands over my curves, I checked to make sure I looked as good in the front as I did in the back. I went to the mirror and popped gloss on my lips and combed my lashes with mascara to a killer length. My hair was super shiny and I pulled it to the side. Falcon commented several times that he liked it like that and the style was easy and sexy for me. My earrings and bracelet sparkled. I couldn’t help but remember the first time Falcon made me feel beautiful.

“…I think I’m looking at one of the most beautiful sights Vegas has to offer.”

“I’m not going to be able to eat if you keep this up.”

“Why? Because I think you’re beautiful? I thought most women loved compliments.”

“I’m not most women.”

Like then, this night promised that he would, again, make me feel like a princess—except that the villain in this fairy tale was hidden beneath my clothes. At least, when this was over, he would remember me as beautiful. For me, that really
was
a happy ending.

A
lthough Falcon said he would send Jorge with the car, I insisted that Elizabeth and I would meet him. I used the excuse that I wanted to spend a little
girl time
with her before we met up with him. He didn’t argue the point with me, but I could tell that he wasn’t happy.

Men!

Just as I rounded the corner of elevator, Liz met me in the lobby. We had just stepped outside when I noticed a familiar looking man across the street. It took a minute to focus but as I did I recognized him.
Mr. Dietz!
He was a real estate attorney from back home that I had done some work with. We helped each other out whenever we could through referrals. We had only met in person a few times because most of our business was either conducted over the phone or via messenger. The last clients we had in common were Manny Vallega and his wife Marisol; the owners of The Vencedor Corporation.
What a joke that was!
Mr. Dietz and I were hired to liquidate all of the real estate holdings that had been procured in the name of that company. Though clients didn’t need to give us a reason why they chose to unload their properties, we were privy to this one. It was Manny’s contention that his wife had purchased the properties during a severe manic episode of a, then undiagnosed, bipolar disorder.

I didn’t believe that for a minute.

I was an expert at living through devious and black-hearted plans, but none could compare to the devastation Marisol schemed to perpetrate in the life of my friend Aria. She nearly killed her but, thank God, she didn’t succeed. She was a piranha, ripping and tearing at my social circle bit by bit, and wasn’t happy unless she left them bleeding. Her psychosis penetrated our lives with her depravity—and Mr. Dietz and I couldn’t wait to be clear of her. I had concluded my part of the liquidation in record time, at Mr. Dietz’s insistence. The whole deal left him preoccupied and nervous. I did as he asked without question, listing every property they owned. Many of them sold well below market value, but Mr. Dietz was grateful for my help nonetheless. He confided that Manny presented him with a Power of Attorney for Marisol and he was very anxious for any remnants of that particular time in her life to be put to rest. He was extremely anxious for her to move forward, saying it was necessary for her to heal.

I felt bad for Mr. Dietz. Manny and Marisol might have been able to dupe most people with that story but I knew better. Marisol had a morbid and unnatural obsession with Declan. She erroneous believed that Aria stole him from her. Of course, she conveniently left out a few facts, the biggest one being that she was married. She’d kept that little secret to herself, and Declan assured all of us that he never led her to believe anything existed between them. There was never any guessing as to who told the truth.

I never heard from Mr. Dietz after we’d concluded our business and, suddenly, it occurred to me that if he had continued to work for Manny his opinion of me might have been jaded by any remarks the Vallega’s might have made. Since I never ran into him at home, it only seemed fortuitous that he was right across the street. It would only take a moment to say hello, so I thought I’d seize the opportunity. I touched Liz’s arm.

“I’ll be right back. I see someone I know.”

She watched after me as I walked in Mr. Dietz’s direction. I had almost reached him when any thoughts of my good fortune scattered like dust in the wind. I quickly turned around and hurried back to Liz.

“Let’s go.”

She sensed my urgency and, although puzzled, came without hesitation. The former knot in my stomach now choked me with regret. I should have paid more attention because I didn’t notice that Mr. Dietz was walking with an entourage that included Manny, Marisol, and Blake Matthews.

I remembered how unnerved Mr. Dietz was when he worked for Manny, so why were they together? I began to rationalize that it was reasonable for an attorney to be with a client in Vegas, especially one with Mr. Dietz’s expertize in real estate. I mentally checked off rational explanations. He was their real estate attorney and Vegas was a hot spot.

There wasn’t really anything suspect about him being with them, but I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling in my gut. Something wasn’t right. Why was Blake with them?
Other than being Marisol’s manager, they weren’t friends, were they?
But I couldn’t shake the warning signals that ignited inside my brain. At one time Blake had been a good friend, but his courtesy died away each time I told him that’s all I wanted to be. A friend. Blake was a conundrum. He had more personalities than I could count. At first I thought he was a nice guy, but then I got to know him and my opinion changed. After Aria and I were released from the hospital, he repeatedly asked me out. With my habit of maintaining personal distance, I didn’t think it would be a good idea to encourage him when I knew there would be nothing there. The only thing we had in common was our mutual social circle and I didn’t want anything to complicate it. Time after time I politely declined his invitations but he was persistent and then eventually became pushy. If he and I were anywhere with our friends, he acted like he was there with me. It was obnoxious. All through the weekend at Aimee and Carter’s party he was possessive. He was used to getting what he wanted and, unfortunately, he wanted me. It became awkward and embarrassing. Finally, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I went to Aria to tell her that I didn’t want to go anywhere with our crowd if Blake was going to be there, and I was counting on her to let me know if he would be. She refused to hear it and told her husband. Since Declan and Blake were friends and business colleagues, she asked him to intervene. Aria told me that everything had been taken care of. After that, Blake backed off. He called me once after and told me that I didn’t know what I was missing; that he could date anyone he wanted. I told him that he was behaving like an ass and to get over himself. We hadn’t spoken since then.

Liz and I were almost around the corner when I heard him. He was calling my name. I ignored him, but he only became louder.

“
Paige
!”

The sound of his voice sickened me. I walked a little faster.

“
PAIGE
!”

Liz tried to turn around but saw my reaction. I held her arm.

“Keep walking.” I felt the blood leave my head, leaving me spinning.

“
PAIGE
!!!
”

There was no escape.

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Liz looked confused and her eyes darted back and forth between Blake and me. He was nearly on top of us when I turned. A forced smile transformed my face.

“Hello, Blake.”

I prayed Liz could sense my discomfort and help me make a quick exit. She only knew Blake as “the guy who was being a pain in the ass.” I never mentioned his name when I said that someone was getting on my nerves; but she was a smart cookie. It wouldn’t take long for her to connect the dots.

“Didn’t you hear me?” It was evident by his condescending tone that he resented being ignored by me. He tried to mask his irritation by putting on his best, fake, overly whitened
,
smile. “Why didn’t you stop when I called?”

Unconsciously, I stiffened. Liz read me instantly and was on high alert. Ever the professional, I morphed into my capable business persona.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. My friend and I were talking.” I quickly changed the subject to his favorite topic,
himself.
“What are you doing in Vegas?”

He eyed me skeptically but behaved himself in front of Liz. “A little relaxation; a little gambling.” He turned toward her and extended his hand.

“Blake Matthews. And you are?”

Her eyes flared at his flippant tone. “Elizabeth Santiago. Paige and I go way back.”

“Really?” He looked at me, straightening his shoulders. “I don’t remember her mentioning you.” His stare was intense. “I haven’t seen you for a while. We should have dinner while I’m here.”

Liz quickly resented his misguided sense of authority, and intervened. “I’m afraid I’ve monopolized her calendar while she’s in town.”