Chapter 22

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Inside, awe faded to exhaustion. No matter how much we wanted to look around and take in our abnormal setting, sleep was all too demanding. Pair after pair retreated to their separate sleeping quarters, ready to fall under the all consuming power of sleep.

Then, there's just Roman and I. As if he's reading my mind, he says "Gibson will bring our bags." I nod. Shifting between my feet, I consider the best way to remove myself. Thankfully, Roman senses the discomfort before I can say a word, because he clasps his hands together in finality. "Well, i'll see myself to bed then. Goodnight, Sawyer."

"Goodnight, Ro-" Before I can finish my sentence, he's off in a different direction, leaving me to stand there in confusion. Thoughts and feelings like puzzle pieces from very different puzzles. "I need to sleep." I mumble to myself, pressing my palms to my eyes, attempting to rub the sleep away. All for naught because next thing I know, I'm fighting a face contorting yawn and dragging myself to one of those rooms to meet my dearest friend, sleep.

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Roman is nowhere to be found in the morning. Scarlette says he has a lead on a potentially new author looking for a publishing company that meets her needs. An unusual feeling of frustration mixed with a touch of jealousy falls over me. I try to chalk it up to the lack of communication between Roman and I. The inability to see me as a proper professional assistant to have at his side. Meetings such as this should have been prepared by me. If I no longer schedule meetings and interviews, bring him coffee, run errands, read possible prospects, what's my purpose? If only any of those things were more important to me than the idea that Roman is spending his time with another woman. The true source of my frustration and jealousy, beaten and buried deep for no one to find. Though the look in Skylar's eyes told me she knew the truth.

Avoiding her sympathetic gaze, I follow everyone else outside to the long walnut stained, dining table. Eating breakfast outside is not something I do daily, but I also don't have such a beautiful view to wake up to every morning. Curiously, this sun is brighter and warmer than the Seattle sun. The greenery is more green. The bread of my orange french toast is softer. A place amplified by the kind of details that are exclusive to the most extraordinary paintings in history.

The lively conversation has already started. Everyone seems to have bounced back rather quickly and ready to take on the new adventure. Though, the same couldn't have been said for me. Jet Lag has a whole new meaning to me now as I slowly shovel pieces of french toast in my mouth, parts of the conversation registering and the others like mumbles lolling me to bed.

A sudden jolt causes me to sit up straight, after inching closer and closer to the table, a hand on my shoulder. The table is cleared, everyone gone, but Skylar and her concerned eyes. "Jet lag?" she asks.

I nod, begrudgingly. "You can say that." I dig the palms of my hands in my eyes, knowing full well it won't work, but nonetheless, a habit. "How are you all...alive?"

She laughs, "Lots of coffee. I mean loooooooots of coffee. Plus these babies." She taps the flute of her mimosa. "That girl, Elena, has been keeping these coming like a revolving door all morning. Seriously, my new addiction. Not too much champagne to get anyone drunk, but just enough that it tastes like sunshine and happiness. She's an angel." I giggle, knowing Scar would love to hear that. "You slept longer than everyone else so you've started pregaming a little late, but you've still got more time." A nudge from her hand, sends her mug of coffee closer to me. "Once you catch up, we're all going out to sight see." I nod as a response, drinking the coffee like it's the fountain of youth. "Scarlette talks nonstop about some dream cafe of hers that we must see." My mouth is too busy swallowing "So, what's with you and Roman?"

This question is enough to stop me from finishing off the coffee. "What do you mean?" Playing stupid isn't typically my forte, but the question calls for it.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? You haven't been at work. I haven't heard much from you. Suddenly, I'm invited on this trip with my boss and his sister because you'd want me here. Then, that look you gave when you found out where Roman is. I'm not a dumbass. I can see something is going on here."

"Oh. No, it's-"

"If you're about to spin me some kind of lie, don't bother. You don't have to tell me. But just know, I know." She points at her two eyes then at my two eyes like we share a secret. I can't help, but laugh. She'd be surprised if she learned the truth. Romance is far from the actual truth. Random violence, fear, kidnappings. Those were more like the truth.

"I know, you know", is the only reasonable, non brow raising, answer. We both laugh, unable to keep it together in such an unusual situation. Finally, we stand and head to our individual rooms to get ready for the italian experience.



Sorry for the lack of updates! I hope you guys like this chapter.

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