My Sweet Isabella (The Ambassador Trilogy #3) Page 11

  “Good morning, Ambassador.” The cook was in an all-out sweat with these strangers in his kitchen, he would have a fit if Isabella cooked, and I hoped he was stressed to the limit.

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to talk. I wanted a cup of coffee to go with my vodka waiting for me in my room.

  “Can I make you breakfast?” I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at him.

  “We go through this song and dance every morning and what do I say?”

  His gaze locked onto mine, seemingly surprised that I answered with anything other than a no.

  “You say, ‘no’,” he murmured.

  “Okay, so why would today be any different?”

  He shrugged. I walked over to the coffee pot and chose a strong blend and brewed a cup. I don’t know why he feels the need to harass me every morning with this eating shit.

  “This place will be getting crazy soon.” I felt bad for snapping at him so I made a little small talk. This new attitude of mine was going to ruin me if I didn’t get a hold of myself. There was no need to be a dick to people who had nothing to do with my situation.

  “Yes, the caterers are already destroying my kitchen. I will be glad when the night is over.” He busied himself at the stove stirring some kind of shit.

  “You and me both.” I grabbed my coffee and walked back upstairs to finish getting ready.

  While I was gone, my home was transformed into what resembled a night club. Usually, this type of thing didn’t bother me until after the attack. I seem not to have patience for anything social. The night was endless and so were the drinks I was consuming. I tried not to make it obvious I was drunk by the time the last guests left. Women were throwing themselves at me left and right and I had no interest in any of them. The thought actually sickened me. These weren’t just any women. The women in my home that night were highly sought after models and socialites. The type I liked to fuck back in the day. Before Isabella, I would have thought nothing about taking a couple up to my room. Yes, I would take a couple. Back then, I loved a good threesome. That was all behind me now and something I would not consider again. Gustan offered to find me a woman several times. I couldn’t and I wouldn’t. If there was no Isabella in my life, there was no one. No matter how hard I willed her to walk through that door, it wasn’t going to happen. My eyes stayed glued to the front door, imagining her walk through the door as she did the night of the gala. Her parents usually attended these things, but this one was not one of them. I looked for them, hoped to see them, but this was more for government officials. I had to make my way around the party and talk about things that didn’t interest me. I told the story about the attack at least fifty times, answered questions about what it felt like to be shot, and asked when I was going back to Paris. I made small talk with the Secretary of State, the Defense Minister, and the Head of Homeland Security. Just another night in the life of an Ambassador.

  When the night was over and the ass kissing ended, I was exhausted, in pain, and quite drunk. I fell into bed and slept for a few hours until the next day brought a hangover and more pain, both physical and mental. I was living a life of hell from day to day with no escape.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~

  I considered showing up for Sunday dinner one day at Isabella’s house. What would happen? Would she see me? Would her family be glad to see me? I was so lonely that the idea of being with family sounded inviting. I drove the thought out of my mind when the phone rang and snapped me out of my crazy idea.

  “Yeah.” I said into my phone.

  “Fabrice, its Romain.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Romain, how are you?” I was still playing the idiot game about what I knew and pretending like nothing was different. We still haven’t determined his true connection to Andrea. I still and would forever blame him for losing Isabella. To talk to him again was torture.

  “I’m not good.” I could care less.

  “What’s wrong?” Christ if he asked me for money, I would have thrown the phone across the room.

  “My fiancé has been missing for weeks now, and the police are questioning me about her disappearance.”

  “You mean Andrea is missing?” I laid the shock on good and strong.

  “Yes, I haven’t heard from her in over a month. She hasn’t answered my texts, calls, or my emails. That isn’t like her.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know where she could have gone? Does she have family somewhere that may have decided to visit?

  “I don’t know. I guess I don’t know that much about her.

  “How long have you known her, Romain?” This was an excellent opportunity to drill him for more information.

  “I met her at an AA meeting a year ago. We clicked right away and fell in love almost immediately.”

  “I don’t know why you are calling me with this? What do you want me to do?”

  “I thought maybe you would have some inside pull since you’re the Ambassador.” Of course he did. He only used me for what he could get out of me.

  “I don’t have a magic mirror, but I’ll see what I can do. You have no idea where she could be. She said nothing to you? “

  “No, she didn’t. I’m just worried, Fabrice.”

  “I understand. Can you tell me more about her? Maybe something about her family or the places she goes on business trips?” He was making this too easy for me.

  “I think pretty well. She has no family and she doesn’t share much of her past life with me. I don’t know, Fabrice, how well do we know anyone?” An ironic statement coming from him.

  “Has she gone away like this before?” I heard a sigh on the phone and as he hesitated. That hesitation could mean a lot.

  “She travels a lot. She is always going somewhere. But, this is different. It’s very unusual that I’ve not heard from her. She usually calls me every couple of days if she is traveling.”

  “Well, let me see what we can do and if you hear from her let me know.”

  He agreed and hung up. I’d had a hard time reading him very well on the phone. I wasn’t sure I could truly believe what he told me.

  Pierre was in Washington at a meeting with other top officials to discuss terrorism in my home country. He asked to see me, and I set some time aside for him and me to meet over lunch. The last time we spoke was to find out if the boy in the coffee shop had survived. We had not spoken since then. I agreed to meet him at a popular diner close to the Embassy. When I arrived, he was already inside enjoying a bowl of chili and a coffee. The sight of the food made me sick. I ordered a coffee, but didn’t touch it.

  “Fabrice,” He stood up to greet me. I saw the look in his face when he saw the changes in me. My weight loss was evident to everyone.

  “You look thin. How are you?” Pain racked me as I slid into the vinyl booth across from him.

  I didn’t know how to answer, so I avoided the question.

  “I don’t know. How have you been?”

  He watched me intently. Even with his wrinkled suit and tired appearance, he still looked better than I did.

  “I’ve been good. I would have met with you sooner but you took off, and I have been so busy trying to get this threat from these fucking radicals taken care of.

  In the midst of missing my Isabella, I had put everything else out of my mind.

  “I know you’re still not with Isabella. I spoke to your mom last week.”

  I winced at his bluntness. I nodded my head.

  He crumbled up three small bags of oyster crackers and dumped them in is chili. “You need to get her back. You’re dying without her. If you could only see what we see, Fabrice. You need her.”

  I looked away unable to meet his gaze or watch him eat. I forced myself to stay composed like the man I was supposed to be. I pushed my shoulders back and sat up as straight as my body would let me. I kept the stern look on my face, not giving away how much I needed her. That was so difficult when Isabella was involved. It tore me apart.

  “She needs more th
an me now, Pierre. She isn’t safe with me.”

  Pierre laid his spoon down and pointed his finger at me. “Who are you to decide that for her? Are you God? Can you read her mind?”

  I said nothing. He sat in front of me, wiped his mouth and folded his arms across his chest.

  “You were spared for a reason. You have a life to live and a woman who needs you as much as you need her. Don’t throw your love away. You needed to get her home, but the way you handled the situation was harsh. Isabella is a smart woman. You could’ve went about sending her home in a better way.”

  I nervously ran my hand through my thinning hair. I agreed with him and knew all of this. I was out of my mind then. I wasn’t thinking straight. We sat in silence and he finished his meal. Once outside, we stood by my SUV. Ronnie and Gustan were waiting for me. Pierre and I shook hands and he gave me a quick hug.

  “I will be in the meeting we have tomorrow. We can talk more after, maybe get a drink. You need to take care of yourself my friend. Please get well.”

  I nodded my head at him and climbed back into the car.

  Gustan sat in the back seat on his laptop. The bastard was getting on my nerves hanging around all the time.

  “Where to, Ambassador?” Ronnie asked.

  I gave him the address to Isabella’s parents restaurant. I had no idea why, I knew I had to go.

  Ronnie looked at me in the rearview mirror with a smile. “Will do.” Gustan looked at me in a questionable manner.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “Are you going to eat now?” He was being a sarcastic asshole.

  “No, I’m going to find Isabella. I can’t go on anymore.”

  “Smart idea. I don’t know if she is there, though.” He didn’t take his eyes off his laptop.

  “What do you mean?” I turned my body toward him and shot him a look. He finally looked back at me.

  “I’ve been following her, remember? Fridays are usually her days off.” I narrowed my brow at him. Gustan was more a part of her life than I was. I still wanted to go to the restaurant. I could feel out the reception I would receive from her family and then go from there.

  I arrived after lunch time, which was good. Not too crowded, but people were in there and I didn’t want anyone to notice me. I was being talked about constantly in the news, and the paparazzi stalked me to see if I suffered from some incurable disease. Ronnie pulled the car up front, and I slipped in quickly.

  I had a strange feeling walking into the restaurant. I had not been in there since before the shooting. The familiar smell of garlic hit me as soon as the doors opened, making my stomach hurt. Of course, I was greeted by Isabella’s mother who was at the hostess station. She looked at me once and it didn’t register who I was. She pulled out a menu and then stopped as she looked at me again.

  “Oh my god, Ambassador. I didn’t even recognize you. Are you here to eat?” I saw the disgust on her face, and the look of shock in her eyes. She walked up to me and pulled me into her arms. Having Isabella’s mother embrace me, was wonderful.

  “No, I’m here to see Isabella. Is she here?” Tears filled her eyes, and she called for Mr. Piori.

  “Danny, come here,” she yelled towards the kitchen as she kept her tear filled eyes on me.

  “She’s at home today, Ambassador. Let me get you something to eat. Danny made a pot of minestrone. You can take the soup with you.”

  “Thank you, but I couldn’t eat. “Her face showed panic as if she was looking at a dying man. Mr. Piori came out of the kitchen dressed in his usual outfit of all black and a white apron that he was wiping his hands on. His face showed concern and anger at first. When he looked me over, his face turned to pity and fear. I must look worse than I realized.

  He shook my hand and spoke. “Isabella is at our house. Go there. It’s only her there today. She needs you, Fabrice.” Hearing that from Isabella’s father was a relief. He was a very tough man who was very protective of his daughters.

  “I need her too, as you can see.” I hung my head in despair. Mrs. Piori took me in her arms again and held me close to her.

  “You poor boy. I don’t understand any of this.”

  She let me go and my eyes roamed between both of them looking for anything else they could tell me. I was eager to get out of there and find Isabella.

  “I will see you soon. Maybe by then I will be up for the minestrone.” I smiled and walked out the door.

  The drive to Isabella’s home from the restaurant was short and stressful. Ronnie knew the way, and within minutes, the car pulled into the driveway. I hesitated, staying in the car and staring at the house. Was this the right thing to do? I had to. I couldn’t go another day without seeing her.

  “Ronnie wait here. I don’t know how long I will be. She may not even want to see me.”

  Ronnie slid out of the front seat and opened the door for me. “Take your time, Ambassador. I’m in no hurry.” Gustan started to get out and I put my hand up to stop him.

  “Gustan, let me do this without you hovering over me. You two go get some lunch, make out, or do something.” My sense of humor was coming back.

  Gustan shot me a look. “Wow, turning into a comedian. That’s a good sign.” I ignored him and started walking.

  The walk up to the porch was one of apprehension and excitement. The tension in my shoulders radiated to my neck. My leg throbbed, but I walked through the agony. I was determined not to let my leg keep me from her again.

  Of all the fear and terrifying moments I have faced in my life, that moment was the most fearful. That moment I stepped on my Isabella’s porch and stood within feet of her, my heart raced, and my stomach clenched.

  What if she didn’t want to see me? What if she was with someone else? I would not have a reason to go on anymore. I was bound and determined to get her back if it killed me. I have been a man that went after what he wanted. I wanted her the first time I saw her and I would have her again. Nothing stopped me when I was set on something.

  I knocked and waited. Her mom said she was alone. I heard footsteps. I kept my hands in my pockets and held my breath. I felt the ring. Would she wear this again?

  The door opened and there she was. My beautiful angel stood in front of me. She gasped. Her hands went to her face as her face distorted with pain. I heard “Oh My God.”

  She was dressed in jeans, a college t-shirt, and she was barefoot. Her hair was put up on top of her head and she was so much thinner. Her curves were prominent still, and her breasts pulled her shirt tight. She was still the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. No one compared to her. The need to have her hit me with a force I had not felt before. My gaze took her in from head to toe.

  She fell to the ground crying. Her hands were covering her eyes, and her body shook. I didn’t know if the tears were from the pain of seeing me, or because she was happy to see me. I reached down and picked her up and held her to my body. I sucked in a breath and looked into her watery eyes.

  “You’re not Fabrice.” Her hands went to my face as she placed her palms on my cheeks looking into my eyes. Only then did I realize how different I looked.

  I grabbed her hands and kissed them. Her skins familiar taste woken my dying senses. We stood looking at each other. Isabella’s soft, cold hands were squeezing mine tight, her eyes were spilling over with tears, and her breath catching in her throat.

  “I am. It’s me. I’m dying without you.” Her face had turned to white and she shook.

  The pain of the memories without her slammed into my head. The desolate nights alone, the fear of her not loving me again, and the need to touch her made me gasp. I let go of her hands and pulled Isabella’s head towards my chest. She melted into my body. My heart beat so loud I heard the pounding in my ears. She kept her head rested on my chest as she continued to speak.

  “Are you sick?”

  My hands stroked her hair. “No, not officially. I’m heartbroken.” She looked up at me again.

  “How did you know I would
be home?”

  “Your parents told me. I stopped by the restaurant before this.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” she murmured through her tears. Her hands went to wipe her tears away.

  “I couldn’t stay away another second. I had to come. I had to see you. I’m dying of a broken heart, Isabella. I never thought that was true. I’m not going to live without you.”

  Without thinking, I pulled her closer to me again, and kissed her hard. Her hands raked my hair. I thrust my tongue into her warm sweet mouth. Jesus Christ. She moaned and accepted my kiss. I was starved from not eating and even more starved for her. Our hearts both beat against each other’s chest. I wanted her so bad. My life would not be my own without her.

  She didn’t push me away. She wasn’t sickened by me, or at least, she didn’t act like the sight of me was appalling. I kissed her again. Her lips tasted so good I couldn’t get enough. I was home again.

  She suddenly pushed away from me and put up her hand. Something was different. Her eyes looked broken and sad.

  “I can’t do this Fabrice. Not yet. Not again.” She stepped farther away from me.

  My heart sank.

  “Please don’t push me away. I can’t go on without you. I swear I will die. Let me come inside to talk to you. I don’t want Gustan and Ronnie watching, or God forbid the paparazzi. They are following me everywhere trying to find out what is wrong with me.”

  Without saying a word, she stepped aside and let me in.

  I walked into Isabella’s family home reluctantly. I had been in there several times before, but this time, my senses were on high alert. I noticed something cooking on the stove. I could smell the familiar aroma of spices and sauce. The clock was ticking in the distance, and I noticed the news was on in the living room. I stood in the open foyer and pleaded my case.

  “I love you. I can’t go on without you.” I whispered, as she stood against the wall with her arms crossed. Her eyes bore into me. I walked up closer to her, not touching her. I felt her breath on my skin.