places. The design of the condo was an open concept on the main living level and then an upper-level loft that was the master bedroom, bathroom and a living/sitting room that Melinda used as a workout space.
“I thought you weren’t sure that Slade was the right man for you. Didn’t you say you wanted to be a mom? He’s a legendary playboy, you know that, right?”
“No need to ask how you found out,” she said. “I just didn’t know if we were serious or not and I didn’t want to make a big deal.”
“That photo looked pretty serious to me,” Angela said. She sat down on the tufted bench at the end of Melinda’s bed.
Her sister had a thermal mug in her hand and looked fashionable as always. No matter how hard Melinda tried, she always felt like the serious, preppy twin. She knew that no one else would ever call her that, but she was the quieter twin, in fashion and in personality. If anyone should have been dating Slade, it was Angela.
“That picture... I had no idea anyone would see us, or I never would have kissed him like that,” Melinda admitted.
“You’re blushing! We’re thirty-nine, Mels. It’s time for you to stop blushing when you talk about sex.”
“I wasn’t talking about sex! Slade just makes me hot. It’s not embarrassment, it’s—Oh, never mind. What am I going to do?” she asked her sister.
“Do you like him?” Angela asked.
Like him?
She hadn’t thought about it that way. He was so intense. She knew about his family’s rumored mob connections, but when she was with him, he focused on her. He made her feel...like she was the only woman in the world. And the most passionate person he’d ever met. But honestly, she knew that was only because of him. Donald, her ex-boyfriend of eight years, always complained that she hadn’t brought any va-va-voom, but with Slade that wasn’t an issue.
“I know you don’t approve of him. You’ve made that very clear and I’m not sure how I feel about him. He’s on the art council, which is how we met.”
“He’s on the art council? I thought his family were all mobsters—which, by the way, concerns me.”
“He’s not a mobster, Angela. He is also the only grandson of Philomena Conti. So he’s representing the family. I think Mrs. Conti had a hip replacement earlier this year, which is why he filled in at the meeting. We just hit it off. He likes art as much as I do. It was my description of a Van Dyck that made him notice me.”
Angela stood up and walked over to her, putting her hands on Melinda’s shoulders and making her face the mirror. She met her sister’s gaze, avoiding looking at herself. She had the big rollers in because it made doing her hair easier, and she hadn’t put on any makeup yet so her freckles were visible.
“Look at yourself,” Angela said.
She glanced up at her own reflection. She always smiled at herself because that helped her start the day in a good mood. Angela smiled back at her as well.
“That man noticed you because of you,” she said. “And it’s about time that you found a man who can make you forget yourself at the opera.”
Melinda sighed. She knew her sister was right. No matter what Slade made her feel, at the end of the day their lives simply didn’t fit together. He was more Cristal champagne and parties at his penthouse and jetting off to Dubai than local artist openings.
“I know. Not the danger part—he’s really not a bad man, Angela. But he’s not for me either. Honestly, I sort of thought after we slept together, he’d move on to someone else,” Melinda said. “But he hasn’t. There’s something between us that makes it hard to keep our hands off each other.”
“Passion, Mels. Finally, you’ve found a guy who brings out the fire in you,” Angela said. “But not a Bartelli. Find someone else.”
Melinda shook her head. She didn’t want the fire... Well, not all the time. Fire was dangerous. She knew that had led to trouble in her parents’ relationship and she’d always striven to keep her life on an even keel.
But now she wasn’t on an even keel. She was already really overdue for her period and she’d always been regular. Maybe she was having perimenopause. She had read an article that some women started to experience symptoms at her age.
She met her sister’s eyes in the mirror and knew better than to bring up that subject again unless she’d taken a pregnancy test. As close as she and Angela were, there were some things that they both just kept to themselves and this was going to be one of them.
“If it were that easy, I would have done it a long time ago,” she said at last. “I’m not sure where things are going with Slade, but we both know it’s not going to last.”
“Good,” Angela said, giving her a breezy one-armed hug. “Are you okay?”
She wanted to nod but the hot rollers made her head feel heavy and awkward. “Of course. I’m always okay.”
“Except I know that you’re not. You said you wanted to be a mom...and suspected you were pregnant. Are you? Is he the father?” Angela asked.
She wasn’t ready to talk about pregnancy. She hadn’t even been to her doctor yet, even though she had bought more than a few over-the-counter tests. She hadn’t gotten up the courage to take them yet. She might want to be a mom, but she had in her mind the way it should happen. She was a traditional kind of gal. She wanted Slade to fall in love with her—desperately in love—and propose marriage, to have a huge society wedding—where her father, sister and family weren’t in the midst of a scandal—and then have a baby.
“I don’t know if I’m pregnant,” she said, dropping her gaze from Angela’s in the mirror. She wasn’t a big fan of lying to anyone, but she wasn’t ready to deal with being pregnant while the Chronicle was running a photo of her and Slade kissing. “I mean, Slade Bartelli doesn’t sound like the right kind of man for me, does he?”
Angela propped her hip on the edge of the vanity and looked pensively at Melinda’s bedroom. For the first time, Melinda realized that her sister might be hiding something of her own. “Are you okay? How are your wedding plans coming along?” Angela had just announced her engagement to Ryder Currin.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Nice try, but we are talking about you,” Angela said. “I don’t know what to tell you. If you say Slade’s a good guy... Well, I’m on your side. Just make sure you know what you’re doing. While fire is good and I have always thought that’s what you needed to shake you out of your routines and lists, it can also burn you. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
Melinda turned and hugged her sister, resting her head against her stomach. “I don’t want you hurt either. Men are...way more complicated than they look on the surface.”
Her sister laughed as she started taking out the hot rollers in Melinda’s hair. “They are. Why can’t they just be hot, right?”
“Yes. And sophisticated and like the things we like and then go away when we need to get back to real life.”
Her sister laughed again. “If only we were in charge of the world.”
“Someday,”
