Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
The stress was going to kill me.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Dahlia tried to soothe me. “Tallon or Gabriele would call if something had happened. Just try to be patient.”
“I can’t!” I snapped at her. “The man I love is trading himself to the Russian mafia who wants to kill him, and I’m just sitting here waiting again!”
I collapsed into the leather chair, folding my knees to my chest as I struggled not to cry. I wanted to scream, but I knew that wouldn’t do anybody any good.
“Okay, I can’t take it anymore,” Dahlia growled, getting to her feet before screaming, “Maria!”
I heard the sound of footsteps rushing from upstairs, quicker than I thought an older Spanish woman could ever move, before she rounded the corner with a worried look.
“Si, senorita?” she asked, looking prepared to do anything for us as long as we said the word.
“Could you make us a pitcher of the strongest drink you know?” Dahlia asked, irritatedly. “Raid Giovani’s liquor cabinet if you have to. Just make it enough to calm us down.”
“Si,” Maria nodded determinedly, turning on her heel as she rushed away.
“Seriously, that woman is a godsend,” I sighed.
“You’re telling me,” Dahlia smirked, before sitting back down on the couch. She grabbed the TV remote and the television flashed with a blue light. We hadn’t bothered turning on the lights since it had gotten darker out so there was only the bright screen of the TV to illuminate us.
Dahlia flipped through the channels, passing cooking shows, news channels, cartoons, and telenovelas, until finally, she landed on one of my favorite movies. It was a romance that I had seen thousands of times, and though it was already halfway through the movie, I knew exactly what words were about to be spoken.
I mouthed the quote along with the character, my eyes glued to the screen as she spoke of destiny being accidental.
It felt reassuring in a weird way, like she was speaking to me as she said these words even though I knew she wasn’t.
By the time Maria came back, the movie was nearing its end, but I was still wound up like a spring toy, my thoughts traveling back to Giovani and Alessandro and the trade and everything that could go wrong.
Maria was carrying the largest pitcher I’ve ever seen. It was like a punch bowl made into a pitcher, and she held both of her hands around it while still managing to carry two glasses. She set it down on the coffee table, the glassware clinking together as the glasses hit the pitcher.
“Aqui estamos!” Maria grinned triumphantly.
“Thank God.” Dahlia scooched to the edge of the couch, grabbing one of the cups and allowing Maria to pour the deep amber-colored liquid into her cup. It looked almost like an iced tea, and I realized exactly what it was as soon as Dahlia took a swig.
Her eyes went wide, and her lips pursed as she swallowed it.
“Woo!” She grinned, energized. “That is the strongest bitch I’ve ever had to swallow.”
Maria handed me my own glass, and I glanced at Dahlia’s expecting eyes and then shrugged. If It helped take my mind off of things, why not?
I took a huge gulp, the liquid rushing down my throat and the sour, acrid taste hit my tongue. I coughed, struggling to keep it down as the amount of alcohol that hit me in that single gulp was staggering.
Dahlia was right. That was the strongest drink I’d ever had the displeasure of tasting. We were so screwed; we were going to be plastered in no time.
I took another swig, and after tasting it once, I was more prepared, and the alcohol slipped down easier. I shivered, a little cold as the alcoholic drink slid down my throat and into the empty cavern that was my stomach.
That’s when I remembered that the two of us had barely eaten all day. Breakfast had been a tense affair, and neither of us was willing to have lunch or dinner.
We were double screwed.
Oh well.
After the credits of the movie started rolling, the alcohol hit me pretty hard. I felt a little loopy but more relaxed–a little too relaxed.
“Gio’s an idiot,” I slurred as I took a large gulp of the alcoholic drink.
“Drink to that,” Dahlia raised her glass, downing the rest of it.
Commercials were beginning to play on the TV, and all I could focus on was how happy the couple looked as they bought a car together. Would I ever get to experience that–sharing my life with someone? Giovani had already had all those precious moments, though. He’d bought his first car, his first house, and all the shit I had yet to do. His age didn’t matter to me, but I realized just how finite life could be.
Dahlia had almost been murdered, Alessandro had been kidnaped, and now Giovani was offering himself up on a platter. Was this truly my life now? Was this what I had to look forward to for the rest of my days?
If I was Giovani’s wife, would I even be able to handle this day in and day out?
“Be honest.” I looked at Dahlia with sad eyes. “Are Gio and I really too different to get along?”
“Of course not,” Dahlia responded, slurring her words as she tilted into me with a goofy grin, “You two are perfect for each other! You two crazy kids found each other in this world! Don’t let anybody take that away from you!”
She hiccupped, leaning her head on my shoulder as she poured another drink.
“How’d that happen anyway?” she mumbled curiously. “How’d you two get together if you’re both such sticklers for social conventions anyway?”
I blinked blearily, my vision a bit hazy as I saw through my drunken goggles. A new movie was beginning to play, a classic western, and I giggled at the bad guy with a long, fancy mustache and a cowboy hat.
“He’s funny,” I remarked, pointing at the screen.
“Come on,” Dahlia pushed my shoulder. “Answer me.”
“Fine, fine.” I rolled my eyes, leaning back into the couch as I tried to recall how this had all begun. Then I spat out, “Tea.”
“What?” She frowned, confused.
“Tea,” I repeated. “I couldn’t sleep, so we met in the kitchen and had some tea. We started talking all night. From the moment we met, I had been attracted to him, but that was when I started liking him. He poured me tea, and he smelled soo good.”
“You fucking nerd.” Dahlia burst into giggles and I soon followed after her, the two of us cracking up as we leaned on one another for support.
Dahlia went to pour herself her third glass, but frowned as she noticed the pitcher was gone. “Did you drink all that?” she asked, confused.
“Nooo,” I shook my head, elongating my words for some reason. I thought it was funny so I giggled, burying my head into her shoulder. “Maybe.”
“Maria!” Dahlia called out, her loud voice ringing through the hallways.
I winced as she shrieked into my ear, and I spaced out as I watched the TV, waiting for more of the Long Island iced tea.
“Who kissed who?” Dahlia whispered in my ear.
“Gio walked in on me naked,” I said as I giggled, “and he kissed me. Mwah!” I pretended to kiss the air, grinning like a mad fool as Maria walked in with a new pitcher of alcohol.
She looked worried as she stared at us, both of us giggling for no reason. Dahlia hiccupped as Maria poured her a new glass, only filling it half-full.
Or half-empty.
I burst into laughter, which then morphed into a sad sob as tears filled my eyes. I buried my head in her shoulder suddenly, causing her to spill the drink, and the cold liquid splashed onto my shirt, but I didn’t care.
