BENEATH MY BALCONY
Chapter Thirteen

Leaning against Jack, their shoulders rubbing together each time either of them made the slightest movement, made Rose tingle with joy. She found it hard to believe she had ever been anywhere else or even that there was a time when she didn't know Jack. She glanced over at him. The wind played with his hair, blowing it in his face. He didn't even bother trying to control it. Through the sandy blond curtain, she could see he was smiling.

"What are you so happy about?" she teased, shoving him gently with her shoulder.

"It might have something to do with the beautiful woman next to me," he said. "Or it could just be the nice day."

She looked up at the sky. Dark clouds were gathering over their heads. "I guess you're seeing a different day than I am."

He slid his arm around her waist. "Then it must be the beautiful woman next to me."

"I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

"Nope. I'm not saying I never liked a woman before you, but I never felt about anyone the way I do about you. I love you," he said solemnly. "I can't imagine ever leaving you. It was easy to leave the others."

She raised an eyebrow. "Others?" How many woman has he been with? A lump formed in her throat. What if he decided she didn't measure up to the others? What if—

"Two," he said, his voice shattering her anxious thoughts. "There was a girl back home, but…" He shook his head. "It wasn't…even if I hadn't left when I did, it would never have been anything real."

The lump in her throat shrank slightly. "And the other?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't betray her feelings.

"The other was a girl I met in Italy," he said. "I stopped in this little village in the north. It was actually just a few weeks before I met Fabrizio." His eyes darkened slightly.

She pressed her cheek against his arm. She knew what was wrong even without him telling her. "You miss him a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah." He sucked in his breath. He didn't even know what had happened to Fabrizio. His name hadn't been on the survivor list—none of his friends had been on the list—but a part of him insisted that didn't mean anything. He had survived, hadn't he? Didn't that mean they could have, too? It was long shot. It was possible. But deep down he didn't believe any of them had been able to make it out alive. He could feel her eyes on his face. He looked up at the sky, avoiding her gaze. "We should get inside," he said.

"Where are we going to go?" she asked.

He stood up and reached for her hand. "I don't know yet," he admitted. In the distance, thunder rumbled ominously. " But I'm gonna figure it out quick."

*****

Cal faced the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Outside, the sky was as black as his mood. Rain fell in sheets; he couldn't even see the garden anymore. If it hadn't been for the occasional flash of lightning, he might have been able to convince himself it was no longer there. The rumble of thunder was almost deafening. He couldn't remember the last time he had witnessed such a severe storm. Had he been a more religious man, he might have chosen to believe it was God's way of sympathizing. The natural order of things had been disrupted. Rose was in the arms of street trash when she should have been in his; it was no wonder the weather had suddenly taken such a bad turn.

He didn't bother to turn around as the door to his study opened. "Sir, the police are here," a maid said timidly. He grunted and made a waving gesture, which she interpreted as permission to show them in. A few seconds later, two dripping, uniformed officers trooped in, slamming the door behind them. They stood anxiously at the edge of the room, awaiting further instructions.

Finally Cal turned around. "That's an imported rug you're tracking mud on," he said disgustedly.

They stared down at their feet in horror. "Sir, we're so—"

"Yes, yes, I know," he said. "Just be quiet." Having two public servants grovel at his feet was strangely unappealing. What else is he going to take from me? "I assume you were told why I called you here?"

They nodded. "Something about theft," one of them said. He had light brown hair and green eyes.

Cal winced at his slight Southern accent. They'll just let anyone in these days, won't they? "Yes," he said. "I hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I…I just have no choice. I wanted to resolve this privately, for the sake of some of the people involved, but I now see that isn't possible." He paused for effect. The two officers leaned forward, eager to hear what he was going to say next. "It's a difficult thing to accept someone you care very deeply for had betrayed you," he continued. "But that is exactly what has happened."

"Who?" the second one blurted out.

Cal shot him an irritated look. Did he not have the decency to let a story unfold properly? "My fiancée," he said curtly. "The most important thing in the world to me. I was foolish enough to give her the combination to my personal safe; I wanted her to be able to use it if she needed to. What I never anticipated was she would not only jilt me within a matter of days, but that she would also steal the entire contents of the safe."

The officers exchanged glances. This was by far the most dramatic case they had ever been asked to assist on. Cal turned back to the window and smiled to himself. I'll teach her to humiliate me. I'll teach both of them! He didn't yet know how he would get the "stolen" money planted on them, but he was confident he would figure something out.

Chapter Fourteen
Stories