I’m so excited to show him the letter of intent. I know he’ll be thrilled that I’ve decided to sell the blog. I haven’t forgotten the look of disappointment on his face the first time he confronted me about my involvement with the New York Flame. It haunts me. I know that he loves me, but I want him to be proud of me. I want to be worthy of him. Selling the blog is the only way to redeem myself.
I yank open the bottom drawer of my desk and grab my compact out of my purse. I give myself a onceover before swiping a thin layer of shimmery taupe gloss over my lips.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dove stand wearily and scrub her hand across her sleepy face. Just then, that intern – Charlie – pops into the doorway, excitement knitted into his features. “Hey Ellie – can I bother you for a second?”
“Absolutely not,” I say with a light giggle as I bounce to my feet and slide the strap of my purse onto my shoulder. “Whatever it is, Dove can deal with it.” I push my copy of the letter of intent into my purse and grab my beat-up leather jacket.
Charlie’s shoulders slump and the enthusiasm drains from his face. Dove turns to me, her forehead wrinkled. “Just where are you going?” she questions.
“Lunch date,” I say, beaming. No need to share details just yet. She’s a tabloid reporter – soon enough, she’ll find out on her own that I’ve been dating Matteo Moretti, the city’s most eligible bachelor.
Her eyebrow arches at me. “But you haven’t approved of the posts going up on the site today.”
I shrug and toss her a carefree smile. “Use your discretion. You’re about to be the new owner.”
With that, I push past a tired-looking Dove and a stunned-looking Charlie and charge towards the elevator.
Chapter 40
I sit at my desk, thumbing through a zoning by-law that’s preventing one of our smaller clients from erecting condos on a vacant lot they own in Brooklyn. I can still taste Ellie on my lips and it causes my mouth to curl into a devilish grin. After our quick lunch in midtown, I’d given my driver a half-hour break so that I could pull Ellie into the back of the car and I feast on her delectable little cunt for dessert. Now, I’m good and satisfied on so many levels.
Anna-Maria comes bursting through my office door. “What is it?” I say, glancing up at her for a fraction of a second. She’s frowning – she’s been frowning at me ever since she saw Ellie at my apartment a few weeks back.
“Catalina’s here. With Tilly,” she announces pointedly. That captures my attention immediately. They were supposed to be having a play-date at the park with some of Tilly’s new friends from ballet class. That’s when the sound of a child crying in the hallway registers in my mind.
I jump out of my seat and round my desk quickly. “Is something wrong?”
Anna-Maria shoots daggers at me as she spins around and walks out the door. I’m hot on her heels.
Tilly sees me as soon as I step out of my office. She runs to me. I stoop down and gather her up into my arms, swiping the tears away from her eyes. “What’s wrong with her?” I ask, my concerned gaze focused on Catalina.
“We were at the park and then we were surrounded by a group of photographers,” she says, her eyes narrow and her expression grim.
“Photographers?” My mind is spinning. I feel rage brewing inside of me. I’ve done everything in my power to protect Tilly from the paparazzi. I’ve been on a mission to protect her identity from those vultures and make sure that she has a normal childhood.
But now they know about her.
I place a soft kiss against her scalp as my little girl whimpers in my arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re safe now,” I say as I hold her tightly against my chest.
Just then, Madison comes stomping down the hall, a loose sheet of paper gripped in her hand.
“Maddie…” Her name falls past my lips before I’ve formulated a sentence in my mind.
“Auntie,” Tilly whimpers as she lets go of my neck and reaches for my sister.
The employees working at the cubicles around us begin to discreetly throw curious glimpses our way.
Madison scoops my daughter out of my arms and kisses her cheek before glaring at me. “Look what you’ve done, you jerk,” she growls, shoving the sheet of paper at me. The New York Flame logo sits at the top. “Your girlfriend just posted an entire exposé about Tilly.”
Chapter 41
The doorman gives me yet another furtive glance as I pace the marble floor of the lobby, chewing on what’s left of my fingernail. He picks up the phone and makes a call, whispering quietly into the receiver. For a moment, I wonder if he’s just called security to come and haul me out of the building. After all, I have been here for over an hour.
I peer out the floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto the sidewalk and sight a few familiar faces – Yassef works freelance but sells most of his stuff to NewYorkBlabber.com; Colin works for the Twisted NYC webmag; last I heard, Jared was trying to set up his own gossip blog.
They’re all here, cameras ready, eager to catch a glimpse of Tilly. They’re all here because of me.
Stupid, stupid, stupid girl, I scold myself.
Yes – I’ve been fucking up at work a lot lately, but I dropped the ball in a major way today, and because of that, an innocent little girl’s life is about to change.
When Charlie walked into my office before lunch today, I wasn’t thinking straight. All I could think about was the fact that I was meeting with Matteo for lunch. When Charlie tried to speak to me, I told him to take up his concerns with Dove. I told Dove to use her discretion in choosing which articles to post on the blog today.
It totally slipped my mind that I had asked Charlie to research Matteo. It had never been my intention to turn the results of that research into an article for the blog. I only wanted to satisfy my personal curiosity about the man. But of course, Dove didn’t know that. Neither did Charlie. They saw a juicy story and they ran with it. I can’t fault either of them for that. It’s their job. It’s what they’re paid to do.
How were they supposed to know that I’m in love with Matteo and that I would want to protect the identity of his child?
So now, I’m in the lobby of his apartment, waiting for him to show up. Fuck – I have to make him understand.
He’s not going to forgive me this time. But still, I have to tell him that this wasn’t deliberate.
I’ve tried calling him a few dozen times, but I keep getting filtered straight to voicemail. He’s avoiding me. Shit – he’s done with me. Anxiety shoots through me and I wipe my clammy hands against the fabric of my dress.
I hear the elevator chime at the other end of the lobby. I spin around and see Matteo as he steps off.
“Ellie.”
He’s wearing a faded black sweatshirt that makes his shoulders look incredibly wide. His basketball shorts are dark blue and go just past his knees, revealing his powerful, sculpted calves. His hair is a glorious, disheveled mess.
I rush off in his direction. “Matteo.”
He grasps me by the shoulders when I’m within arm’s reach.
“I didn’t do it, Matteo. I would never do it. I would never post a story about Tilly. Please believe me.”
His lips curl into a small, tired smile. “I know that,” he breathes quietly.
My surprise must be etched on my face. “You believe me?”
He runs his finger down my cheek and nods.
“But you didn’t answer your phone when I called. I kept going straight to voicemail. So, I came here. But the doorman wouldn’t let me go up. And I was just waiting for you to come home so that I could explain it to you. I’ve been here for over an hour but I didn’t see you come in.” I’m talking a mile a minute.
“Shhh. It’s okay,” he murmurs, lowering his face to mine. “My phone is off. Reporters are calling off the hook. We had to come in through the parking garage. The doorman called and said you’ve been hanging around here.” He nods to the doorman, who immediately looks away, pretending he isn�
�t eavesdropping on our conversation.
“Is Tilly okay?” I can’t help the high pitch of my voice.
“Tilly’s fine. She was a little spooked out by all the photographers, but she’s sleeping now.” His tone is calm and steady.
I lead the way to the elevator. “It was a mistake, Matteo. I can explain. I swear.”
He grabs me by the wrist, tugging lightly. “I believe you, Ellie.”
“But it’s important that you understand how this whole mess happened,” I insist.
He breathes in sharply. “Look – my mother and sisters are upstairs. They’re pretty upset. And Michael is on his way with Ruth. Plus, Catalina is out for blood – she wants your head on a stake. Now is probably not the best time for you to come up.”
I swallow hard, purse my lips and nod. He kisses me tenderly on the forehead and twirls my hair around his finger. His hand drops away and then he turns, heading back towards the elevator.
“I’ll call you when I get home,” I say, hating the desperate sound of my voice.
He turns back and pauses. “No – I’ll contact you. When all this blows over, I’ll contact you.”
But, there’s that look in his eye – it’s the look a guy gives you after a lackluster date. He promises he’ll call you but you already know you’ll never hear from him again. It’s a look that says ‘you’re no good for me and I’m letting you down easy’.
It shreds me to see Matteo look at me that way.
I pull in a sharp breath. “Don’t lie, Matteo…Just be honest…Tell me this is goodbye.”
He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me with forlorn eyes before turning away.
Chapter 42
“I should have called first,” I say when the door swings open.
I should have, but I couldn’t take the risk of her telling me not to come.
It’s been four days since I last saw Ellie.
Four days since I left her broken in the lobby of my apartment building.
Four days of torturing and badgering myself, of telling myself to let her go.
Four long days.
To the logical, reasoning person, it would be obvious that Ellie is responsible for the story that put my child in harm’s way. But, right now, I’m not logical. I’m in love. And deep inside me, there’s a stubborn, persistent voice that tells me that Ellie would never do that.
She wipes her nose against the sleeve of her oversized, button-down shirt. Her eyes are bloodshot. Her hair is a mess. She looks as devastated as I feel.
She steps aside, letting me cross over the threshold. I close the door behind me as she walks over to her kitchenette. I lean against the butcher block and watch as she pulls the hissing kettle from the stove. Without a word, she makes two cups of tea. She hands one of the delicate porcelain cups to me before wrapping her small hands around the other. That’s when I realize she’s shivering.
I put my cup down on the counter and go to her. I stare down into those pleading gray eyes and I know that she would never hurt me or my daughter. But, I need to hear her explanation. I need a justification. I take her cup from her hands and set it down next to mine. I grasp her gently by the shoulders.
“Hey –“ I say, lowering my face to hers. “You okay?”
She bites her bottom lip as if to hold back the tears threatening to spill over her eyelids. She lets out a groan before sliding her arms around my waist and burying her face in my chest. “I miss you.” Her weak voice is muffled by the fabric of my sweatshirt.
I hold her tightly. I can’t begin to explain how much I’ve missed her. I don’t try to explain it because even if I searched, I’d never find the words.
We stay like that for a while before she pulls back. “I have to show you something.”
I watch her pad over to the hand-carved antique desk next to her bookcase. She takes a manila folder out of the top drawer and stretches it to me. I flip it open and scan the papers inside. Emails exchanged between Ellie and her new lawyer concerning the sale of the New York Flame. There’s also a letter of intent.
“You see the date? I was trying to sell the blog before the story about Tilly was posted by one of my employees. It was an accident. An oversight. I would never put your daughter in harm’s way.” She sobs into her hands.
I wrap her in my arms because that’s where she belongs. “I know, Ellie. I know.” This beautiful soul pressed against me wouldn’t exploit my child for the sake of her blog. I already knew that long before I came here tonight. I knew it in my bones.
“Kiss me, Matteo,” she looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks. She’s breaking under the strain of her regret. “Kiss me and tell me this isn’t the end of us.”
I pull her body close to mine. Put my lips to the shell of her ear. “There is no end to us.” My mouth crushes hers before I drive my tongue past her lips. “I love you, Ellie.”
Chapter 43
“I’m going to introduce you to my mother.” The words fall from his lips into my hair.
I tuck my head even deeper under his chin, almost as if I’m trying to hide. “What?” A ball of nerves settles in the pit of my stomach.
“And my sisters and my father,” he continues.
I roll away from him and prop myself up on my elbow. “You can’t be serious,” I say, looking down into his face. The mind-blowing sex we just had is obviously affecting this man’s thinking.
He turns his head against the pillow and peers up at me. “It’s going to be hard, Ellie, but it’s necessary. You’re the woman in my life and my family needs to know you.”
“That sounds like a really bad idea.” I plop myself back onto the mattress. They already hated me long before the story about Tilly broke. But now? They’ll greet me at the door with sharpened pitch forks.
He runs his finger down my cheek. “I won’t hide you, Ellie. I won’t keep you a secret any longer. I’m not Elias Parker. Your father kept you in the shadows. But you deserve better. I want the world to know about you. I don’t care who gets upset.”
I swallow hard. Matteo is offering me what I’ve always wanted – a chance to belong somewhere, a chance to belong to someone. I just never imagined it would be this scary.
“So, this Sunday, you’re coming with me to my family dinner.” He says it with a note of finality and I’m too wound up to argue, but I don’t believe the Morettis would tolerate having a tabloid reporter sitting at the dinner table. “Ellie – dinner Sunday evening. I’ll pick you up at 6:00.”
Chapter 44
Just as the elevator door begins to close, a large hand reaches in to hold it open. The sound of a woman’s giggles and the hurried clicking of her heels fill the lobby, wafting onto the lift.
“Slow down, honey. I’ve got the door,” the man says.
“I told you we didn’t have time for that quickie. Your mother loses her shit whenever we’re late,” Ruthie Salvador says in a thick Brazilian accent as she steps onto the elevator. Her head whips around and she sees Matteo and me standing in the corner, his arm around my shoulder. “Matt!” she says, obviously startled.
She stops so abruptly that her husband nearly walks right into her as he follows her onto the lift. His blue eyes narrow as his gaze shifts from his brother to me and back again.
“Uncle Michael,” Tilly squeals as she runs to him, her arms wrapping around his leg.
“Hey munchkin,” Michael grins as he swoops her up into his arms.
“Hi Tilly,” Ruthie says, stretching her arms out to the little girl and Tilly swings off of Michael and into Ruthie’s arms like a little chimp.
“Matt,” Michael says coolly, giving his brother a cautious stare.
Matteo nods at them both. “Ruth. Michael.” Then, he turns his attention to me. “You remember Ellie Parker?”
Michael’s glare shifts to me. “Ms. Parker,” he says curtly. Ruthie offers me a quick, plastic smile before returning to her conversation with Tilly.
“Hello,” I say awkwardly as I inch closer to Mat
teo. I would probably duck behind his back if he wasn’t leaning against the elevator’s brushed chrome panel. The lift fills with tension and my eyes stay riveted to the console as the numbers light up, indicating our ascent to the 32nd floor.
“Mother didn’t mention that you were bringing a guest,” Michael says in a stiff tone.
Matteo smooths his hand down my stomach, momentarily calming the butterflies that are twirling around inside. “I’m not sure that she knows. I mentioned it to dad when I spoke to him a few days ago.”
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