As I'm carrying the tall, 25-inch box, I attempt to balance it between my hands. Being too focused on this, I trip - over my own feet. Like I said, I'm a clutz. I feel myself begin to fall. Unable to re-stabilize myself, I close my eyes and wait for impact. Crash! Every single glass bottle shatters. But I didn't hit the ground?
No.
Instead, there was these warm, muscular arms wrap around me – giving me a strange sense of protection. Under any and all circumstances, I'd be freaking out. My PTSD has not improved at all. And yet, it felt like I could stay in his arms forever. His scent intoxicated me, filling my lungs with every breath I took. It's a combination of fresh cologne, mint, and coffee.
I look up to see a tall, mysterious man with beautifully tanned skin, perfectly matching his dark hair. He's about 6"3 if I had to guess. I'm only 5"8. He continues to embrace me for what was only a brief moment but felt like I was being held by home. I notice his ocean blue eyes staring into mine. They are intense, yet dangerous, causing this intense tension between us, not an uncomfortable tension. More like a pleasant tension that I never wanted to end.
As he releases me, I instantly notice his tux shirt tightly clinging to his bulging muscles. Despite everything about him, the thing that shocked me the most is that for the first time in such a long time, there is a man that doesn't make me feel afraid or repulsed. I don't feel the urge to run in the other direction. I don't feel the urge to kick, yell or scream. I don't feel the urge to prepare myself for the worst. I feel incredibly awkward as I realise that for the longest time, I've been staring at his lips. Not knowing what to do, I rub my arm strangely, showing my embarrassment. As I look back into his eyes, they turn cold...
He pulls out his gun from nowhere and points it straight at my head with absolutely no hesitation. I stand there, stunned, shocked, and terrified. I don't know how to react. Not wanting to seem like a threat, I do nothing.
"Fermati! Chi sei?" [Stop! Who are you?]
Of course, he would assume I'm Italian. We are in Italy after all.
"Don't hurt me, p-please", is all I can get out.
"Non te lo chiedero di nuovo dolcezza." [I will not ask you again honey.]
Not being able understand what he's saying, I start to freak out.
"Stop! I don't understand- "I scream in a panic.
As though by a miracle, Carlo walks in.
"Per l'amor di Dio, Cole, metti gui' la pistola!" [For God's sake, Cole, put the gun down!"]
"You are scaring my personal assistant!"
To my relief, Cole lowers his gun, turning to Carlo.
"Your personal what?" Cole roared.
Carlo walks towards us, as cool as a mint.
"Calm down, son" Carlo responds. His calm, unnerved voice calming me slightly.
Wait- Son? I didn't know he had a son...
"Have you lost your mind?" Cole's voice was so angry, it began to make my PTSD slightly take over. I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, knowing that it wasn't me being shouted at. "I don't want your whores around here!" I lost it.
"Excuse me?" I question him.
"Cole, she is not-" Carlo says, trying to defend me.
"You heard me, piccola!" [little one]
I probably shouldn't have, but I snapped. "How dare you? You psycho-"
"Don't you even dare talk back, you ungrateful little shit. I just saved your face from hitting the ground and you think you can speak to me like that? In my own damn house?!" I witnessed the rage fill in his eyes, the same rage that I felt fill up in me.
"You pointed a gun at me!" I stated.
"Too bad I didn't pull the trigger in time." I noticed Carlo watching us fight, almost intrigued or amused? by it, but I wasn't really paying attention. This man is going to wish he hadn't spoken to me like that.
"Didn't your mother teach you to speak to a lady politely?" I asked, trying to control myself.
"Last time I checked, ladies don't act like sterile children." I hate his cockiness.
"But if you consider yourself a lady, I'll be a gentleman and pretend to agree, mia cara." [my dear.]
Oh, how I want to slap that smug smile off of his face.
"How dare you?" I retaliate. "You are the one who is being childish! And acting like a spoiled ass! This whole thing was just an accident! Stop acting like a spoiled bitch!" I scream in his face, my rage taking control.
"Are you done with all the screaming? I'm not wasting my time arguing with you." His stern tone sent mild shivers down my spine, but I don't show it.
"Finally, something we can both agree on." I reply, sick of entertaining this any longer.
Carlo continues to stand there, intrigued by us. It seems as if Carlo is studying Cole's reaction to me. I'm confused. What's so interesting about a fight?
Breaking the awkward silence, Carlo introduces me to this mystery man. He turns to him.
"Cole, this is Cassie Clarke. And like I said, she is my personal assistant. She has been working for me for the last five years already." Turning to me he continues, "Cassie, this is Cole Santini, my adorable nephew."
Ohhh. Nephew. That makes more sense.
Still irritated, Cole retaliates. "I don't care about who she is, I want her out of here!" he yells. "I want to talk to you in the office. Now!" the rage still clear in his tone. He storms off to the office.
"I'm sorry for his behaviour Cassie." He apologises. "Cole is... complex... But he's not that bad." From what I just experienced, he most definitely is, but ok.
"It was not your fault, Mr. Santini. It was my fault. I should have paid more attention on not tripping myself up and..." Then it hit me. The wine. It was still on the floor, all of the wine spewing outwards. "Oh my- The wine!" I blurted out, not thinking.
"Cassie, it's ok!" Carlo said, trying to reassure me. "It was an accident. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Wait here for me." I take in a deep breath, trying to reduce my panic. I nod my head in response.
"What a day..." I think to myself as I begin cleaning up the spilled wine. "Complex..." Thinking back to what Carlo just told me. "Complex my ass..."
About 5 minutes later, I can hear muffled shouting. I wonder what's going on in there. Instead of being nosy and risk getting caught, I keep cleaning the mess, cursing myself under my breathe.
After about a total of 10 minutes, I hear the office door open. I ignore it and continue clearing up the smashed glass. I see Cole walk past me from the corner of my eye, and I hear his footsteps stop behind me. I begin to feel a little anxious, but I choose to ignore it.
"What the hell are you doing?" he questioned me.
I swear this man is blind. I tried to ignore him, but my body shivered at his question. He is aggressive for sure, but he doesn't scare me. His voice is sexy and husky. This man has a strange effect on my body, and I couldn't believe that I'm reacting this way just because he opened his mouth. I became curious as to if he was doing it on purpose, or if he just blessed with extreme sex appeal.
"I'm talking to you! Answer me when I'm talking to you, or you will start talking to my gun!" Violence? Again? Seriously?
"Oh, now you want to talk..." I say, still cleaning up the mess with my back to him. "I'm trying to save the wine."
"You are so weird." I can practically hear him roll his eyes as he says that.
"Thank you." I sarcastically reply.
Out of nowhere, I am suddenly turned around and stood up, coming face to face with Cole... again.
"What?" I ask, still startled from his abrupt actions.
"Sei molto attraente, piccolo." [You are so hot, baby.] His tone is seductive, yet teasing, like he's trying to get me to react to him.
"What are you doing?" My anxiety levels slowly begin to creep in.
"Stiamo per divertirci molto." [We're going to have so much fun.]
His voice becoming soft and even more seductive, seeing that his plan is working.
My eyes follow the movement of Cole's tattooed arm as he starts to slowly slide his fingers up my arm. I was feeling so many mixed emotions. Anxiety, butterflies, and even, lust? My body shivers at his touch. No one who has ever touched me has done so like this; it was such a warm and gentle touch, no one could ever come this close to making me feel like this man does. "What is happening to me?" I ask myself, confused as to how I feel.
"Dio, la tua pelle e'veramente morbida..."
"What are you saying?" When he speaks Italian, it sends strange sparks through my body.
Cole comes close, until his hands cup my face, and his lips almost touch my ear. Our bodies pressed flush against each other, and I can feel his warmth radiating from his body. His warm breath brushing against my skin, forcing my eyes to close. I bite my lower lip and wait. It feels as though I am under a spell. I can't move. I can't think. Hell, I can just about breathe.
"I said that your skin is really soft."
His husky voice makes me feel unusual, yet comforting things. I've never felt like this before; I feel safe with this man for a reason that I cannot explain. I can feel Cole's hand slide down to my lower back, pressing me against him even more until there isn't even a sliver of space between us. But my anxiety is beginning to skyrocket. This was too much, too fast, too soon. I can feel my breathe starting to become heavy and my vision is starting to blur. I don't know how long I can last.
"P-please..." I stutter.
"Please what, babe?" Cole responds, still teasing. Until...
"L-let me go..." I start to freak out.
"Woah! Okay, okay.!" It sounds as if there was genuine worry, but I was focusing on trying not to lash out to notice for sure.
"Don't... touch me..." I say, hesitant to say anything at all. My fight-or-flight response kicks in, and I bolt.
I run. Out the door. Down the driveway. I stop at the gate, and I break down. I stand there and cry. I do nothing, but cry. I cry out my fear. My anxiety. Memories of how I bolted like this 6 years ago. Everything. I hear someone talking on the phone from behind me. But I'm crying too much to care or be bothered to look up and see who it is.
"Hey! Stai bene?" [Are you ok?] I hear a worried girl ask. She sounded like she was around my age.
That's a basic phrase. Everyone knows what that means. I'm obviously not ok, but that's just the first thing people ask when they see someone crying or upset. So, I didn't say answer her question. Instead...
"Don't... touch..." was all I was able to speak. "Don't... touch me..." Are the only words that I can muster up.
"Ok, ok, I won't." She replies, still with concern in her tone.
"Cole did this to you?" Her tone hardened.
"What are you doing inside the state?" Changing her tone again, this time to a shocked and almost worried question.
I was still too hysterical to respond with anything.
"Please, stop crying, you need to get out of here." She pleads, her worried tone returning.
"W-why?" I mutter.
"It's ok, Olivia, she is with me." Carlo says, appearing from behind the woman before she could answer.
"Nonno, what happened?" She asks her – apparently – granddad
"Cole happened." Responding to her, with a disappointed sigh. Yet his tone implied that this happens on a regular basis. "But don't worry," he continues. "Go home, I will take care of Cassie."
"Are you ok with that?" It's nice to know that Carlo isn't the only kind person here.
"Yes, thank you." I reply, calmer and less hysterical, especially now that Carlo is here.
"She... She called you 'nonno', that means grandfather, doesn't it?" I stutter to Carlo after Olivia leaves.
"Correct, Cassie." He chuckles. "I'm happy that you are learning..."
"You have a beautiful granddaughter, Mr. Santini." I compliment. "How old is she?"
"24, just like you." He replies without hesitation. "You must be exhausted. I will take you home." He gestures towards the parked car.
"Thank you." I respond, turning around and walking towards the car, still traumatised by the events that took place. I get in the car, put my seatbelt on, and wait for Carlo to do the same.
The car ride back to my place is an understandably awkward one. We make small talk about work. Mr. Santini keeps apologising about Cole. We talk a little about Olivia. It's a strange car ride, but we arrive at my house in no time. We exchange our goodbyes, and I go into my house. I head straight for the bathroom and take a shower.
I spend a good 20 minutes reliving the safety I felt in Cole's arms, still confused as to why he made me feel that way. I only just met him. I'm guessing he was also Mafia if he was Carlo's nephew. I get dressed into a vest and some shorts and get into bed, praying that I can overcome this strange feeling of security I felt with him, before I inevitably come face to face with him again...