Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(42)

“That’s a lot of anger to bottle up, Cara.”

They strolled out of the apartment building into cool March air, and Cara breathed it in deep.

“A lot of deserved anger,” she pointed out.

Gian nodded as he directed her toward the apartment’s parking lot, where he had left his car the evening before. “Sure, except you don’t direct it at the person most deserving of it.”

“My mother is the type that feeds off attention, negative or otherwise. She uses any time and attention you give her to manipulate you for her emotional games. It’s not worth it.”

“I’m suddenly feeling like I need to give my mother a visit soon.”

Cara frowned. “I didn’t mean—”

Gian shrugged as he unlocked his car and then held the passenger door open for Cara to slide inside. Once she was seated, he offered her one of his charming smiles. “You reminded me that despite the fact I am a twenty-nine year old man, I have a mother who still loves me as though I’m her baby. She’s always concerned for my happiness, even though she doesn’t have to be. I can’t even remember her yelling when I was a boy. I have a wonderful mother, and sometimes I don’t appreciate her enough. That’s all.”

Oh.

“I’m sure she would like to hear that, too, Gian.”

He laughed. “No worries there. I’ll be sure to tell her. I think she would like you, Cara.”

“Do you?”

“Of course, because I do, amore. Maybe you’ll be able to meet her soon.”

“When?”

Gian winked. “Soon.”

Then, he closed the door.

In a blink, he had rounded the car and was inside the vehicle, too. He hummed a sexy sound as the car lit up under his handling, the gears shifting into place as the engine turned over.

“I love this car,” he said, “but I do miss the Lexus.”

“I can’t justify buying a car in a city like Toronto. Everything is a walk away. It would be pointless.”

Gian glanced over at her, and then pulled out of the parking spot, heading toward the road. “I travel too much from one side of this city to the other to not have a car.”

“Point taken.” Cara stared down the road while Gian maneuvered the Mercedes into traffic. Something caught her eye down the way, something familiar. “Is that …?” She trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging as she stared over her shoulder.

Gian followed her gaze, although he was careful not to ram the front of his Mercedes into the back of the car in front of them. “What?”

“There, parked behind that white Toyota.”

His teeth clenched.

Cara didn’t miss it. “That is my uncle’s car.”

“Looks like it.”

“Why would he be outside my apartment?”

Gian turned back in the seat, his show of irritation all but gone. “Hard to say. Let’s get you to classes, Cara.”

“But—”

“Hey,” he interrupted smoothly, “your birthday is coming up, right? Constantino might have mentioned it, since his is not far off from yours.”

Cara’s brow furrowed while she tried to decide whether to push him on her uncle’s presence outside her place, or call him on his distraction. She settled for answering his question, for now. “Two weeks from Saturday.”

“Would a private flight to Quebec be a proper present? We would leave Saturday morning, and be back Sunday evening.”

“What’s in Quebec, Gian?”

“French. A whole lot of French, mon ange. And old buildings, brick roads, shitty drivers, some of the best restaurants, tickets to a ballet, and a fantastic suite booked for a birthday girl.”

Cara couldn’t help but smile. “A trip to Quebec it is.”





Cara nearly tripped over the waiting bags at her apartment door as she rushed to answer the persistent knocking. With only a towel wrapped around her waist, and her wet hair hanging freely around her shoulders, she figured whoever it was could deal with being made to wait, considering it was them who got her out of the shower.

She pulled open the door with a huff, flipping wet curls out of her eyes at the same time. “What?”

A man she recognized—Chris was his name—stood on the other side, waiting with a smile and a large white box with two smaller white boxes on top of them. Pretty, shimmering pink bows had been tied to each box.

Cara’s irritation instantly melted away.

“Gian?” she asked.

Chris nodded. “You know it.”

This was the second time Gian had sent Chris to her door with a gift—although this looked to be gifts. The first had been the black choker she loved so much. The barrel-chested man had politely explained to Cara that should she continue to refuse the gift, he didn’t mind escorting Cara to Gian to accept the gift directly, if she was so insistent on not allowing him to do his job. Given that first meeting, Cara knew better than to refuse Chris, when he was only there to do what he had been told.

And it was her birthday, after all.

“He could have waited for tonight,” Cara mused as she stepped back to let Chris in.

Her birthday had come much faster than she expected, the end of March skipping into her life before she had blinked.