Chapter 13: Chapter 13

PRESLEY

^FRIDAY^

Presley was happy to finally be home. She was looking forward to some quiet time and her own bed. She thanked the limo driver, who helped unload her luggage, and barely kept herself from running up the sidewalk to her front door.

A relieved sigh escaped her as she opened it, only to be replaced by a shocked gasp. There were numerous large bouquets sitting on top of every available surface in her living room and kitchen.

“What on earth?” she mumbled.

A knock sounded behind her, and she spun around to find Florence standing in the doorway.

“Hi, kiddo,” she chirped.

“Hi, Flo. What is all this?”

“This is that hot, Italian asshole trying to apologize.”

Presley snorted. “I got his hint. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Florence shut the door behind her. “Let’s get you settled in and prepared. He literally might show up at any time.”

“What! Why?” Presley pulled her luggage to her room while Florence followed her.

“He’s been coming by every day—a couple of times a day actually—bringing you flowers and hoping to apologize.”

“I don’t understand,” Presley said as she heaved her bag onto her bed. “He blew me off. He clearly wasn’t interested.”

“Honey, that man is as sorry as I have ever seen anybody,” Florence explained as she sat on the bed. “He was here Sunday, a few hours after you left. Ted and Dan handed him his ass. And then that hunky friend of his showed up and dropped a little truth on us.”

Presley unpacked while Florence told her what Elio had shared about Santino.

“Two weeks? He said recently but didn’t put a time frame on it.” She chewed her lip as she took in the info. “And he was here Sunday?”

“Yes, with flowers in hand. Honestly, kiddo, we felt bad for him. It sounds like he’s got a lot on his plate right now. Not that it’s an excuse, but it sure explains a few things.”

“He’s come by every day?” Presley wasn’t sure what to think.

“Yes, says he wanted you to know he thought about you every moment you were away.” Florence gave her a gentle smile as they walked back into the living room.

“He could have just messaged me.”

“He wants to apologize to you in person.”

“The flowers were unnecessary.”

“They were completely necessary, Presley. You’re owed an apology, regardless of if you want to see him again or not.”

“This is hundreds of dollars’ worth of flowers. I’m not worth all this,” Presley said, gesturing at all the blooms.

“You are so very worth it, sweetheart. He knows it.” Florence grabbed Presley and hugged her. “Honey, I know what kind of damage Abel did. Sonny isn’t like him. Did he make a mistake? Absolutely. But I also think he knows he did and is making a real effort to try and fix it.”

She let her go, and Presley nodded. She still felt like this was too much.

“Go get in the shower,” Florence said. “I’ll make us a spa water, and you can tell me about the resort and the new client.”

“Okay,” Presley said. “Thank you, Flo. I’ll be out shortly.”

Presley got in the shower, enjoying the hot water and quiet. She threw on a pair of flowing pants and a tight, long-sleeved shirt. She grabbed the gift bags she brought home for Florence and the husbands.

When she opened her bedroom door, she heard a familiar deep voice that gave her goosebumps. She took a couple of deep breaths and settled her nerves before walking into the living room.

“Hi,” she said softly.

Santino spun around. He cleared his throat and smiled at her. He was holding another bouquet of stunning flowers.

“Hi.”

“Okay, kids, I’m leaving.” Florence stood up and stretched, her eyes bouncing between the two of them.

“Wait, I have something for you.” Presley handed her a bag. “Thank you for watching the house.”

“The only reason I did it was so you would bring me back something.” She winked at Presley and kissed her on the cheek.

“I know. That’s why I only spent five dollars on you.”

Florence laughed. “Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too.” Presley grinned at her.

“You too, asshole,” Florence said, smacking him on the shoulder. “Don’t mess up.”

“Love you too, Flo,” Santino said. “Thank you for everything.”

Presley waited till she shut the door before turning around and facing him.

“That was friendly,” she said.

“We’ve had a lot of chats while you were away. Flo’s been through a lot,” Santino said, watching her nervously.

“Thank you for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Would you like to sit down?” Presley gestured to the kitchen.

She was starving and hoped she had something to eat in her fridge. He followed her, putting the flowers down on the table and standing there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Sonny, why are you here?” Presley asked as she opened the fridge.

She smiled when she saw the casserole dish from the husbands. She grabbed it and a bottle of water.

“I came to apologize.”

“Okay, I appreciate that. But it’s not necessary,” she said as she turned on the oven. “I got the hint. I didn’t need flowers as a consolation prize.”

“Sweetheart, they aren’t a consolation prize,” he sighed. “They are my desperate attempt at an apology. I thought about you every damn day and night while you were gone.”

She sipped her water, her hand shaking slightly. “You could have saved a ton of money, time, and energy if you just messaged me.”

“Yes, but you deserve more than a text. Hell, you deserve more than some flowers that are going to die in a few days.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Presley. I had every intention of coming back here that day. I was looking forward to it, actually, and then I walked into a holy hell of a mess at home. It went downhill from there.”

Presley chewed her lip as she listened to him.

“It’s not an excuse,” he said quickly, stepping toward her. “What I did was an unintentional dick move and one that you didn’t deserve. No matter how fucked up things were, I should have stopped and taken the time to call or message you.”

He was standing in front of her before she could blink. She had to lean back to look him in the eyes. He reached down and cupped her neck in one of his large hands, leaning down till they were almost nose-to-nose.

“Presley, I’m sorry. I would love it if you gave me a second chance.”

Presley was speechless. He was standing so close, and his words were so heartfelt. She didn’t know what to say. Her stomach took that quiet moment to rumble loudly. He grinned at her, and she turned beet red.

The oven dinged, and he stepped back, pulling her with him and turning back to put the casserole in. He glanced at the instructions the husbands had provided and set the timer.

“What do you say, Press?” he asked as he looked back at her, thumb grazing her cheek. “Can I have another shot?”

Presley stared up into his dark eyes. He was really close, and she was getting extremely nervous.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He smiled and leaned in. Presley’s heart raced. A knock interrupted. She wasn’t sure if she was mad or grateful. She scooted out of the kitchen with an apologetic smile and answered the door.

“Hi, Elio.”

“Welcome home, Presley.”

“Thanks. Come on in. He’s in the kitchen.”

They entered to find Santino setting the table. He looked up when Elio entered.

“You need to start answering your phone,” Elio barked.

Santino grinned at him.

“I think it’s on silent again, and I don’t know how to turn it back. I hate that damn thing.”

Elio shook his head. “I wanted to let you know that we don’t need you tonight. We’ve got things handled.”

“You sure?” Santino’s eyes flicked to Presley, and he crossed his arms.

“Yes, positive. Let me see your phone.” He fiddled with it for a few minutes, finally adjusting the volume and handing it back to Santino. “If you don’t answer, I’ll call Press before coming over.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you staying in?” Elio asked.

Santino looked at Presley. “Are we staying in?”

“Uh, yes?”

She was nervous again. There was something going on that Santino wasn’t telling her. Was he in danger? Was she?