Pillow Talk

Not Again

Cece looked at her watch for the hundredth time. Her perfectly polished nails tapped against the wheel impatiently. She'd thought training would be finished by now and Roman would head back home but based on his friends Instagram post, they were out in the city at a place she couldn't identify so far. What a ridiculuous thing that now she had to resolve to spy after her sister's ex on social media. Of course, it wasn't anything new for her but usually she did her digging for herself, for her own interest, certainly not for Elena.

Why couldn't her sister just act like an adult one single time and do the ration thing? Well, of course, because if she did, she wouldn't be her sister. That woman was stubborn as a mule and she'd rather be unhappy for the rest of her life than admit what she was doing was wrong. You're getting soft at your old age, Cece, she thought to herself. But still looking fabulous at least, she smiled as she glanced into the rearview mirror and smoothed a wayward lock of hair down.

Her phone pang next to her on the seat and she grabbed it, in hope it was another post and finally, she could try and hunt Roman down. Finally, a lead! She knew the restaurant, the table clothes rings and the table clothes themselves were dead give away. Now she only had to hope they were posting live, and didn't have the brains to postpone in order to avoid unwanted attention.

"Good afternoon, Miss Sorvillo." The young woman at the front smiled at Cece. It'd taken her less than half an hour to get to the restaurant but she was still itchy that she might have missed her target. Men could be such pigs with eating and they didn't serve the biggest portions in the three Michelin stars one of course. "Do you have a reservation?"

"No, and I don't need one." She waved off the girl and started off with her nose so high in the air, anyone could believe she didn't even know where she was going anymore.

Her eyes darted around the place, she smiled and waved to the people who she knew and also knew spread rumuours about her failure of a marriage like it was mandatory. Of course, she returned the favour in a much more effective and savage fashion than these fools could ever even think of. This was her world, scheming, waiting for the right moment to completely erase someone's reputation like it'd never even existed.

However, this wasn't her sister's world. It could be, Elena certainly had the deadliest venom in her hands, she had the brains for it, and she could be turned into one of them, a bitter, always unsatisfied person who lied even when asking a question but Cece thought better of her. To be fair, Cece's always thought highly of Elena because of her straight forwardness, because of how she fought back against anyone who tried to change her and now it all seemed to slip away partially because of her.

"Finally," she said with an edge in her voice when she spotted Roman with his friend at the balcony and she took the liberty to take the empty seat. His head snapped towards her and a glare washed over his features. His jaws tensed and his muscles strained in his impressive arms but none of it could phase Cece.

"What, you thought you'd deliver the wedding invitation personally?" Roman huffed at her as he leant back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You," Cece looked at his friend and waved dismissively at him. "You shall go."

"Stay, she's leaving," Roman growled with a shake of his head, his eyes are set on her.

"Or not, I don't care. You on the other hand..." She turned her attention back to Roman. "We need to talk."

"I'll just..." His friend pointed at the bar before he stood up and saved himself from the awkward situation quickly.

"There's nothing to talk about, Cece and if you don't mind, I'd like to have my lunch in peace," he huffed annoyed and propped his elbows on the table.