The Italian Businessman (Old Version).

8) Legal.

Jenna’s house is and always will be absolutely beautiful, with a brilliant view of the crisp blue water coming straight from the Pacific. The five bedroom, beach house rests just above sea level, standing on a cliff which overlooks the beautiful bay resting bellow. Large waves break closer to a boulder about waist deep in the water and the remnants of the surf crash against the light, almost white, brown sand.

Looking out from one of the three guest bedroom widows, that has now been claimed as my own for the next week or two. I can’t help but to feel overly calm and relaxed, especially after drowning half of a bottle of red wine on the three hour plane ride from my home to Jenna’s.

Though I am most likely running away from my problems, I can’t help but to not feel mentally or physically strong enough to stay in the same city as Giovanni. Never mind the fact that it will be extremely easy for him to come to my apartment and possibly talk his way out of the situation-which is simply something that I am not ready for.

Eventually I know that I will have to talk to him, but I think I need to take these couple of days to just relax, catch some sun and wait until I’m back in the city to work out a game plan.

With little-to-no-effort I slip on a matching dark teal bikini top and bottom, that I am now grateful Kendall forced me to buy on our last shopping trip, telling me how there will be a time in the future that I will need it. The tight fitting costume accentuates my long toned legs and gives my small breasts a much needed lift and the foam padding make them appear a lot fuller. I pull on an oversized knitted jersey that rests just below the curve of my bottom and the crocheted holes in the material gives onlookers a small peek at the bather currently clinging to my body.

I ignore the two overly stuffed suitcases, sitting next to the queen sized bed, begging for my attention and instead head downstairs in search of Jenna. Her home is just as a remember it, the mix matched staircase and the walls, that are all painted a completely different colour to the last-with hundreds of photographs. Most are of Jenna, either next to outside of must visit landmarks all across the globe-each one is in a frame and mounted to a wall. Every single curtain is pulled back to allow the rays of the afternoon sun to illuminate the house and the windows slightly ajar to bring in the cool salty breeze.

 The image of a redhead with an angular jaw line and a slight dusting of well kept burgundy stubble-catches my attention as I happily trudge down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Piercing light brown eyes look down lovingly at Jenna, while a possessive arm wraps itself around her curvy figure. The photograph looks fairly new, as my cousins hair is still resting at waist length and her newly cut bangs frame her heart shaped face. I stare at the man again and a sense of recognition dawns on me-Ms. Sage.

Taking in the man’s features, the similarities don’t end at their hair and eye colour. A thin nose, which curls up slightly at the tip, the shape and contours of his face (though very manly). Even though in a picture, the same air of sophistication and class surrounds him. Making me tremble slightly as I glance again at his overly handsome face, though nothing like the Italian beauty waiting for me at home.

Or in someone else’s bed.

I mentally scold myself as I remember the reason behind our separation. Even when trying to forget about him, Giovanni still manages to find a way to creep into my thoughts. I make my way down the stairs again, though this time less happily with a head and heart full of questions.