The Ambassador and Me: an unlikely love story (The Ambassador Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

“What?” she laughed as she sat next to me putting her head on my shoulder.

“I’m the farthest thing from gay, but I would fuck her.”

“I know, right? It won’t last.”

“Why? You’ve come to this conclusion already after one day. What’s wrong with this one? I saw nothing.” Avery found a flaw with each person she dated, focused on it, and most of them where gone in a couple of weeks.

“She laughs funny. It rubs me the wrong way.” I glared at her and rolled my eyes.

“You’re nuts.”

Avery and I were getting a tipsy and searched Fabrice on the Internet. He was born in Paris and lived there all of his life. He was thirty-six years old and not married. He previously held positions with the Ministry for Foreign Affairs and was the Ambassador of France to Israel for one year. His biggest accomplishment was being the commander of the French Army Special Forces Brigade at the very young age of twenty-seven. It was one of the top in the world. I saw several pictures of him with his camouflage uniform on, walking out with troops and flying a helicopter. It was quite the turn on seeing how powerful he was.

He had written and published numerous articles on security and the Middle East. He lived in Paris and D.C. He loved to ski, snowmobile, and fly fish. Other than that, there were a few pictures of him with some women in France and I saw one of that redhead. They were beautiful, model-type. I looked up each one of the women to see what their story was. Each one was either a model or a professional woman. All of them I noticed had long dark hair except, of course, the red head. One in particular he seemed to be with the most in France was a lawyer, Celeste Moreau. I took a few minutes to look her up, and she had a few pictures of the both of them going to different functions. She was a brunette with short hair and very petite.

I dug further and found a picture of him in high school. He was the class president, Valedictorian, and voted best-dressed. He was gorgeous then. Nothing that was shocking or that would make me want to run for the hills. Other than being the Ambassador, he lived a boring life with no weirdness going on. After reading everything I could find on Fabrice, we shut the computer and ate the dinner she prepared. Thank God I had been drinking because it was pretty bad.

“Have you heard from Anthony?” she asked me shoveling in the concoction of noodles, cheese, and tofurkey.

“He’s called and left voicemails, but I haven’t talked to him. I don’t ever want to talk to him again.”

The last time I saw Anthony was the night he asked me to marry him and I refused. It was the worst night of my life. That was three years ago before he moved to California. I heard he was back in town to take over the family funeral business since his dad was ill. I hoped to God that I would never have to look at him again.

“Are you dealing with what he did to you?” Avery and Anthony knew what happened that night that scarred me for life.

“I don’t know. I still have dreams and wake up yelling. I went through a lot of therapy and I just stopped. I mean, how many times can I go over that and talk about it? I had enough talking about it to the doctor. I’m so afraid of anyone seeing I was weak and asking me what happened.”

“If you find the right guy, he will love you no matter what. You have come a long way, Izz. You’re not weak. You’re a strong, independent woman that got lost for a minute.”

“I hate having to go through the whole night and bringing up the memories. Since I found out he has been home, I started having nightmares again. They aren’t bad; I just wake me up sweating and, of course, he’s usually chasing me.” We sat in silence for a few minutes, both in our own thoughts of that night.

“Don’t you think you should see a doctor again? Since he’s home I’m sure it’s making you stressed out and that is what’s causing the nightmares.”

“No, I don’t want to have to start talking about it all over. I think I have it under control. Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to think about him right now.”

“Want to go out tonight?”

“No, I’ll stay in. You said you have to study. I have a lot of thinking to do, especially a about whether or not I’m going back to my job on Monday. Let’s just hang out and watch that new movie we were going to order last week and fell asleep.”

“That horror one where he drives nails into his victims head? Yes, I could use a good scream. And about your job, I for one would go. What have you got to lose?”

“My head.”

“You won’t lose your head. Just have fun. That’s what life is.”

For Avery, life was daisies and sunshine every day.

“Want to go shopping in the morning?” I asked.

“Hell yeah! Let’s get some sexy lingerie for you in case you change your mind.”

I rolled my eyes and slapped her on the butt. She was right though. I would change my mind.

“Watch it. My ass is sore from the spanking Miss Barbie Doll gave me.” She turned and winked at me.

“You’re sick.” I laughed.

Chapter 7

A
very
and I woke up early Saturday morning and went shopping before I reported into the family at the restaurant. We spent insane amounts of money at the mall, as we usually did. I splurged and bought some new lingerie and a new pair of heels. Saturday afternoon I went to the restaurant to help. They weren’t expecting me, but anytime I came I was welcomed to pitch in. My mom and I loaded the stock room, and I helped Marco make raviolis. It was a nice day and I was grateful I had my family when I needed them. My sister and I decided before I left to go get our nails done. Of course, she had to tan as well, but it was nice to spend some time with her.

“You’re tanning too much, Sophia,” I said. The nail tech smiled at both of us sitting side by side getting our usual French manicures.

“There isn’t enough tanning. I love being this dark. You should get a little color,” she said, as she inspected me up and down.

“No, thanks. I want to keep my skin wrinkle free and I don’t want melanoma at forty. I like my bronzer when I need it.”

“Please. That’s a lie. The beds are good for you. Aunt Gigi had all this information on how beneficial tanning beds were to your skin.”

“I’m sure she did. You could cool it for a day or week.”

My sister, unlike me at her age, had not had sex, at least that’s what she said. It’s not because of her looks; she's beautiful, even with her extreme Jersey Shore looks. Sophia is private and would rather spend time alone than with friends or family. She had dated many guys, but when they want to get in her pants she gives them the heave ho and moves on. I’m not sure why she was like that. None of us are.

Danny is the biggest player in the family and has a different hot blonde on his arm all the time. He’s the oldest and named after my dad. He turns thirty this year and still has no need to settle down. His choice in women is questionable. Some look like he ripped them right off the pole, as my mom says.

Marco, twenty-eight, is quiet and has dated a few but tends to keep them forever. Change or a surprise can send Marco in a tizzy. He’s been with the Gia for two years now and we are waiting for the ring to come out. He likes to act cool around his brother and my dad, but this is the girl for him. We loved her and she was forever with the family. Gia is Italian and my parents are thrilled.

I, on the other hand, have had a few men, a steady relationship with Anthony, and a few hookups here and there that only I know about. I love men and I love sex. I have been this way since I lost my virginity in high school with the bad boy named Dino Vabrizio. He was the boy that smoked in the restroom, skipped class, and looked fucking hot in his jeans and leather coat. He dumped me after we did it five times but what the hell. I’m glad he was my first.

After our nails, and a quick lunch, I dropped my sister off at home. I left and went back to my house. I was exhausted, confused, and needed some time alone. I figured I needed to make decisions on what I wanted to do. I was ecstatic to walk into my home and find it quiet. I took the opportunity to take a long bath with a glass of wine.

I couldn’t relax; Monday was right around the corner and I had to try to decide whether to go back to my job. Did I want that? Obviously not or I would have quit earlier. No, I didn’t want to quit. I wanted to work with him. I wanted to be alone with him. I should have gone to dinner with him. No, I needed to be calm. I needed to get through the weekend, clear my head, get started at my new position with a positive attitude, and see what happened.

It was after midnight and I just got off thinking of him using my vibrator. I may even have yelled his name when I came. I had to in order to get some rest. I was in need of an orgasm and the thought of his cock pressed up against me helped it along. I was in bed, half asleep, watching my favorite show. I was startled when my phone buzzed with a strange number sending me a text.

Thinking of you.

Who’s this?

The Frenchman

How did u get my #

I have ways

Creepy. How can I be sure it’s you?

That caramel tasted wonderful on ur finger.

It’s u.

Dinner with me tomorrow?

Dinner with the family

Go for coffee with me

Maybe

I will be there at seven

I said maybe.

Maybe means yes.

I will text you my address

I have it

Creepier

See u tomorrow. Sleep well beautiful.

I rode to the house the next afternoon to have Sunday dinner with my family. My dad was up and cooking with Marco. I already told myself I was not going to eat much. I was nervous for my date with Fabrice and I didn’t want to look bloated, although they would notice when I passed on the bread. Sunday was a big deal and we ate all day. It was nothing to have up to fifteen people at the table. My dad’s sisters, their husbands, and my cousins would pop in anytime. When we were younger, it was mass in the morning first before anything. Now that we are older, my mom and dad go alone. My dad was cooking homemade spaghetti with meatballs, homemade antipasto, and chicken parmesan. He tied a scarf around his head and had on his favorite apron with the Italian flag on the front. Frank Sinatra serenaded us as I was tempted to grab a hunk of bread and dip it in the sauce.

“Izzy! How is my beautiful girl today?”

I walked over to the coffee pot, grabbed a cup of coffee, and left the bread.

“Great, Dad. Glad to be home with you guys.” I walked over and kissed him on the cheek. His cheek was rough with stubble, and I smelled his familiar aftershave he’s worn since I could remember.

“Glad you’re here. How’s the job?” I didn’t want to bring it up. I didn’t want him to see the look on my face when I said Fabrice.

I discussed the first two weeks working for the Attaché of France while we sat around our huge dining room table and ate. My brothers and cousins thought it was hilarious that I had to work for the Attaché and not the handsome Ambassador. They would have something to joke about for days.

“Ha, only you, Izzy, wanting to switch jobs so you could work with the hot guy,” Marco snorted. I threw a piece of bread at his head.

“All right you two, that is enough!” barked my dad. Marco and I were always in trouble together and mostly while we ate.

“Do you know where you are going Monday? Did the other woman accept the bribe?” asked Marco trying not to laugh.

“Yes, Marco, I’m going up your ass with a bat. I didn’t bribe her,” I said.

“Izzy, please not while we are eating,” my other chided. “Your cousins don’t need to hear that talk. Izzy, why are you not eating? Are you feeling all right?

I was waiting for that. I knew she would notice I ate salad and nothing else.

“No, I’m not sick. I had a big breakfast. I’m learning so much and what is involved in working for the government.

“I don’t know why you couldn’t have worked for the Italian Ambassador. Those French can be a pain the in the ass,” said my dad.

“Well, Fabrice isn’t, Dad, and the Attaché is pretty cool for an old guy.”

“Attaché- isn’t that like a bag?” asked Marco.

“Yes, it’s a bag to put your balls in, Marco! Shut up,” I said.

“Isabella Annamarie Piori, that’s enough with the language! I don’t want to think about your brothers balls while I’m eating. Sister Marie would roll over in her grave if she heard you talking like that and on a Sunday!” yelled my mom. Clearly my mom thought the nun reference would guilt me into acting like a classy lady.

“Mom, she would be rolling around every day if she knew some of the things I said and did.”

“All right, enough of this. I’m trying to eat.” My dad was not open to me talking like one of my brothers. I have for years and it made him uncomfortable.

“You watch that weasel, capiche? I know how those French can be, ambassador or not. If I have to, I will set him straight. You just let me know if he gets out of line. I’m surprised he hasn’t already.” My dad was shoving bread in his mouth, covered in sauce and talking at the same time.

“I’m twenty-five years old, Dad. I know what I’m doing.”

“Twenty-five or fifty-five, I don’t care. I will wipe the floor with his puny French ass if he isn’t upstanding.”