Uncorked by Rebecca Rohman Page B

voice.
    “And chocolates, too. You sure
know how to manipulate women to get your way, Mr. Mariani.”
    “I’d prefer to look at it as
flattery, Miss Noon.”
    “Well, today is your lucky day.
If you’d waited you could have saved yourself the expense. I had every
intention of calling you today, but I had a meeting first thing this morning.”
    “You’re worth every penny,” he
laughed. “On a serious note though, Chella, I am really, really sorry. It won’t
happen again. I promise.”
    “Is there anything else you’d
like to tell me that I should know?” Chella asked.
    “Only that I’m sorry, and I’d be
honored if you’d let me take you to dinner tonight.”
    “I forgive you Mitch, but we
really do need to talk.”
    “I’m an open book. I’ll tell you
whatever you need to know. What time should I pick you up?”
    “I should be done by six.”
    “Great. I’ll see you then. I’ve
missed you Chell…”
    “I miss you too,” she replied,
smiling.
     
    “I hope this makes up for my shortcomings,
Chell,” Mitch said as he handed her a box. They sat at a quiet corner table at
a quaint Italian restaurant.
    “You didn’t have to do this. I
forgave you before I saw your flowers this morning.”
    “Open it.”
    “What is it?” she asked while
opening the box.
    Inside was a beautiful, silver
compact.
    “It’s beautiful. How did you know
I needed one?”
    “The other one you had broke the
first night we met, remember?”
    “I can’t believe you remembered
that. I love it,” she replied with a broad smile. “So, tell me about your
daughter?” Chella asked, as they enjoyed a limoncello with dessert, “What’s her
name?”
    “Her name is Emily, and she’s
five years old. She’s adorable and extremely intelligent. I couldn’t ask for a
better daughter.”
    “Do you have a photo?”
    “I have plenty on my phone.”
Mitch replied as they perused through his phone together. He proudly showed her
tons of pictures of the little girl. She was the image of her dad—with brown
curly hair.
    “She’s beautiful, Mitch. She has
your eyes.”
    “She’s one of the greatest joys
in my life.”
    “What went wrong between you and
her mother? Why did you get a divorce?”
    “When Charlotte and I got
married, she had broken up with her college sweetheart of five years at the
time, only a year and a half before. Apparently, she never quite got over him,
and he over her. They had an affair, possibly even while she was pregnant with
Emily.
    I saw her one day having lunch
with him about a month before she gave birth. When I asked her what was going
on, she denied everything. She said it was just a friendly lunch. Then after
Emily was born, I began to notice little changes. She would get home half an
hour later than usual. She started going to an outside gym, even though we had
one in the building where we lived. Other things I can’t recall right now. When
my suspicions increased, I hired a P.I. and he confirmed my fears, photos and
everything. I filed for a divorce immediately. She and George married six
months after our divorce was final.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “It hurt a lot back then. She was
the first woman I fell in love with. I should have taken a hint. My mom never
liked her. She merely accepted that she was my wife and respected that.”
    “I can see in the photo of her
now that she’s your child. Did you ever question your paternity?”
    “Yes. When she was two months
old, DNA testing proved that I was her father.”
    “Where is she now?” Chella asked.
The waiter stepped in to clear their plates.
    “In Santa Monica with her mother,
stepfather and brother, Micky. I try to go down one weekend a month to spend
time with her since I moved here. During her vacation and on long weekends I
get to see her. I speak to her frequently over the phone or video chat,
sometimes daily or just about every other day.”
    “What’s your relationship like
with her mother?”
    “We’re civil. We have