My phone rings as I sit at my desk. I’m trying to work on my thesis, but I can’t fucking concentrate. I glance at the screen and see that it’s Lucy. My heart races as I press ANSWER. We’ve been getting closer over the past few weeks, and I feel awful lying to her. I can only imagine how she would feel if she knew I was in New York and not back home in Chicago with her father.
“Hey,” I say. I can’t keep the smile off my face. That’s what talking to her does to me. I kick back my chair and walk over to the window that overlooks her apartment building. I can see the faint outline of her body as she walks past the closed drapes.
“I feel like I’m taking up all of your time,” she teases, her voice light and flirty—probably a side effect of alcohol. If only she knew her calls were the highlight of my days.
“Never feel bad about that. You know I love hearing all about your adventures.” I chuckle. “How’s the training going?”
She sighs. “Good, I guess. No, actually I honestly don’t know. I’m stressed because they’re cutting half the pack by the end of this week.” She hesitates. “What if I don’t make it? I don’t think I can just go back to my life after this—”
“Then don’t think of that as an option. You are amazing at what you do, Luce. The only thing that can stop you getting what you want is yourself.”
“You sound like Bella,” she grumbles, and I laugh. “Hey, would you tell me if my father had a tail on me?”
“What?” I ask, my throat tightening.
Where the hell had that come from?
“A few times now I’ve just felt like I’m being watched. I’m not stupid enough to think he’d let me come here without some kind of security, but it makes me nervous not knowing if I should be concerned or not…” Her voice trails off. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer. I know Dad has this thing over you.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” I ask, amused.
“Yes, I mean”—she laughs—“God, that came out so wrong. I just meant that I know how much you feel like you owe him. These are questions I should be asking him, not you.”
She starts talking about the café down the street from her apartment and how she plans to start living off their double skinny decaf mochas. I let the conversation move on, glad I don’t have to flat-out lie to her again. I show interest in what she’s saying, pretending I hadn’t been cowering in the bathroom of the café as she drank her first double skinny decaf mocha. I feel like such a creep.
“I wish Bell could come to New York for a few days. I miss not having anyone to talk to.”
“Ask her?” I suggest.
“I have. She can’t get out of work.”
“I could come for a few days.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. What the fuck am I doing? Before I can even process my ridiculous lapse of control she responds.
“You’d do that for me?” Her voice is so small and full of gratitude I can’t possibly renege on my offer now.
“I’d do anything for you,” I mutter, closing my eyes.
My hand rises to my forehead and I rub it gently. This could be a complete mess. What the hell am I going to say to Giovanni? I have to spin this in such a way that it looks like I’m doing this for him. Maybe if I say she’s on the verge of breaking? I begin to calm down as I realize I’m making this into a much bigger deal than it needs to be.
“I have two days off after Saturday’s session. More if I don’t get past this week,” she adds with a bitter laugh.
“Stop it, Luce. You’ll make the cut. Okay, it’s settled. I’ll be over Saturday when you’re done. I’ll meet you at your apartment.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding happier already. “I’m excited to see you again. I know it’s only been a month, but it feels like forever.”
“Me too, Luce.”
—
As excited as I am, I’m also nervous about seeing her. Even though we claimed our relationship was back to strictly friendship, I have no idea if that would change once we were face-to-face. I’m still in love with her. Deciding not to act on that doesn’t change the facts.
I’m also nervous about fucking up this whole arrangement of me watching out for her. All I have to do is say one wrong thing, and if she picks up on it, then it’s over. What is Giovanni going to think about me pretending to travel over to see her? I decide to call him now. I need to tell him before Lucy does.
“Pietro,” he announces when he answers his phone. “How nice to hear from you. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine,” I assure him, running my hand through my thick curly hair. “Listen, I’m going to see Lucy for a few days this week.”
“You’re going to see her? What do you mean you’re going to see her,” he demands. “You see her every day, Pietro. What are you trying to tell me?”
“She called me,” I say simply. “She’s a bit lonely. She asked me if I could come visit her. I said I would. She would’ve asked Bella, but she’s busy with some guy,” I add, knowing the mention of Bella will instantly make me more appealing.
“Hmph. She never mentioned anything to me about being lonely. Maybe I should visit her?” he wonders.
“No. That would be a bad idea,” I say, laughing. I could just imagine Lucy’s reaction if her father came to visit instead of me. “I think she needs a friend. You being there would just add extra pressure on her. I think she just needs a way to unwind.”
As soon as I say it, I regret my choice of words.
“You better not be her way of unwinding, Pietro. I’ve killed men for less, you know.” he growls.
I close my eyes and rub my forehead.
“That’s not what I meant. And you know we’re just friends. We’re family, for God’s sake.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “She is like your sister.”
I cringe at his phrasing, but I don’t dare speak up. If that’s what he needs to think, then I’m okay with it.
“Okay. You go and spend time with Lucia. Make sure she’s looking after herself, yes?”
I throw a few changes of clothes into a suitcase, getting ready for my “big trip” to see Lucy when it hits me I arranged a date with Stefanni for tonight.
“Shit,” I mutter. We’ve been out once, and while she’s a great girl, I’m just not interested in anything other than friendship. I thought I could force myself to move on from Lucy, but I can’t. And it’s not fair to Stefanni for me to lead her on.
Pulling out my phone, I find her number and press CALL. I have no idea how she’s going to take my rejection, but I hope she understands.
“Hello,” she answers, her voice upbeat and happy.
“Hey, Stefanni,” I say, wincing as I try to form the words in my head. I’ve never been good at ending things with women.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t meet you tonight.”
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“I want to be completely honest with you,” I begin. “I’m not ready for a relationship. I thought I was, but all I’m going to end up doing is hurting you, and I don’t want to do that.”
“Oh,” she replies, her voice soft. “Okay, well, thanks for the call. Maybe I’ll see you around?”
“I’d like that,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. I hang up feeling a thousand times better. She took it well, much better than I thought she would.
I check my email and see two emails waiting from Lucca. I purposely didn’t give him my phone number because I want the least connection between the two of us possible. Giovanni isn’t even entering my thoughts. It’s the people on this guy’s end that I’m worried about. Call me paranoid, but all he needs to do is stir the wrong pot and we both go down.
I open the first email and read through it. It’s just an update explaining he has a few leads that he’s following. I open the second, noting it was sent only half an hour after the first.
Pietro,
This may be nothing, but does the name Louis Gambero mean anything to you? Maybe an associate o
f your father?
Lucca
Gambero. I rack my brain, trying to make a connection, but nothing comes to me. My father had many associates, and most of them I didn’t know by name. I email Lucca back and then close my computer when I catch sight of the time. I need to get ready. It’s four thirty now, and I need to meet Lucy at five.
At five to, I grab my things and go. I’ve timed it well. It’s only a few minutes after five when I knock on her door. She opens it, looking surprised to see me.
“I’ve been trying to call you,” she says, her expression concerned. “I finished a little early so I decided to surprise you at the airport. Only you weren’t on the plane. I had them check the one before too, just in case you got in earlier.”
Thinking on my feet, I nod. “You should’ve called me. I got in last night and caught up with an old friend. We had a few too many drinks so I stayed at his house.”
“I did try calling. It kept going to voicemail.”
Confused, I reach into my pocket for my phone and see that it’s now completely flat. Shit. Good thing I remembered to pack my charger. I hold my breath as she takes my hand and tugs me inside. My heart pounds as adrenaline pulses through my veins. That was so close. Too fucking close.
“Anyway, welcome to New York. It’s so great to see you,” she says, throwing her arms around my neck. My body stiffens as I focus on everything that is her; the way her fingers are grazing the back of my neck, the soft scent of her shampoo, the feel of her skin as her cheek rubs against mine. I pull away, not letting her hand go.
“So,” I say, almost afraid to ask the question. “Did you make it?”
“They’re letting us all know tomorrow. I’ll get a call between nine a.m. and eight p.m.”
I wince. Harsh, making them wait all day. I’ll just have to do my best to distract her for the day.
Picking up my bags, I carry them inside and place them on the floor while she closes the door. She motions for me to sit down.
“Do you want a drink?” she asks, opening the fridge. “I don’t have much. I haven’t been shopping in ages,” she adds with an embarrassed laugh.
“Whatever you have is good.” She pours two glasses of diet soda and sets one in front of me. There’s a nervous energy between us that is more intense than it’s ever been. Not being in the same room with her—or at least not speaking to her—has made things different between us. She lets out a nervous giggle and then blushes, covering her face with her hands.
“What is it?” I laugh. I find her embarrassment adorable.
“I just keep thinking about some of the things I’ve texted to you and I’m mortified,” she mumbles through her hands.
I laugh and stand up, walk around the table to her.
“This doesn’t have to be weird, right? We’re friends. We’ve known each other forever. Let’s go out. Let’s do something. I didn’t come all the way here so we could drink flat diet soda in your kitchen, right?”
“I guess not.” Her face breaks into a grin. “Okay, let me change. You find something for us to do.”
I choose a little bar for us to go to on the Upper East Side. She looks stunning in a short black dress that shows off her amazing legs, a thick black jacket that falls to mid-thigh, and low silver heels. I’m trying not to stare at her, but I can’t help it—and every now and then she catches me.
“This place is nice,” she admits. It’s more of a piano bar than anything else, and the atmosphere is laid-back and relaxed while still remaining classy. A man plays the piano, and waiters in tuxedos walk around serving drinks. I flag one down and order us a bottle of champagne.
“I thought you might like it. It’s a little quieter than most places around here. You can actually hear yourself in here.”
“It makes me want to get up and dance.” She giggles.
“So do it,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
She laughs. “Maybe after a drink or two.”
“Or two? What’s happened to the Lucy I know?” I say in mock horror.
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought you did,” she says, her voice light. Maybe she’s right. One thing is for sure, no matter how well I do know her, it’s never enough. I want more.
Our champagne comes, and the waiter pops the cork and expertly pours it into the two glasses. I hand one to Lucy and take the other.
“To you,” I say, grinning.
“Me? Why me?”
She blushes.
“Because you’re doing something with your life. And because after a few of these you’re going to be rocking it out on that dance floor and I can’t promise you that I won’t be recording it on my phone.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, and giggles. I grin as she downs her glass and motions for me to refill.
“I’ll get up and dance, but only if you do something too.”
“Yeah?” I say, filling her glass. “Like what?”
“There’s no fun if I tell you. Either you agree or you don’t.”
“Fine. Deal.” I narrow my eyes as she laughs gleefully, downing the second glass of champagne. “Slow down or I’ll be dragging you out of here.” I chuckle.
Raising her eyebrows at me, she stands up and walks over to the man playing the piano. She says something to him and he nods. I sit back, my arms crossed over my chest and watch her. She’s so confident when she’s tipsy. The sounds of Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” begin to fill the room, and I laugh. Of all the songs, she chose this.
She moves flawlessly across the floor, leaping into the air, her long dark hair flying behind her. My heart races as I watch, and it’s not just me. She’s captured the attention of everyone in the room. She has this way of making you forget everything but her. I could watch her dance forever. Hell, I could watch her do anything forever.
She gracefully falls to the floor to end her routine as the room erupts into cheers and applause. Getting to her feet, she blushes and waves, before rushing back over to our table.
“That was beautiful,” I murmur, my voice husky. God, I’m actually choked up. That is the effect this girl has on me. “They love you.”
“I can’t believe I just did that.” She laughs. “And now it’s your turn,” she adds, her eyes twinkling.
“What, you want me to dance too?” I chuckle.
“Oh no,” she smiles, pressing her lips together. “I have something so much more entertaining in mind.”
“Oh God. More amusing than me dancing? Is that even possible?” I say, and laugh. She takes my hand, a spark jolting through me. “Where are we going?” I ask, leaving some bills on the table.
“You’ll see,” she grins, leading me out of the restaurant. We walk down the road. I eye her suspiciously as she slows to a stop outside The Colonial Hotel, a luxury hotel well known for its rich and famous clientele and the sprawling fountain situated on the front gardens. I glance at her and see her smile is widening as she looks from me to the fountain. Then it hits me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I laugh. “You want me to go in there?”
“Skinny-dip, to be precise.” she grins. Cocking her head, she stands in front of me, her arms crossed over her chest. “Unless you’re too scared?”
“This is low, even for you,” I grumble. I unzip my jacket and throw it on the grass.
“Come on, stop dragging it out.” She smiles, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
I lift my shirt over my head and dump it on top of my jacket. Scowling at her, I unzip my pants, sliding them down my legs. I kick off my shoes, and then my pants.
“Uh, the boxers, too.” She giggles, placing a hand over her mouth.
“Turn around, then,” I retort. “Unless you’re planning to flash yourself to me, you don’t get to see my junk.” Reluctantly, she turns around. I drop my boxers and run for the fountain to the sound of her laughter, praying to God the hotel’s security guards are otherwise occupied.
“Nice ass,” she calls out, clapping.
; I jump over the side and sing into the water, the freezing temperature shocking my body. I’m so fucking cold I can’t even feel my extremities, and that includes my cock.
“You coming in?” I call out.
“God, no,” she says. “What am I, insane?”
“Weak.” I taunt her.
“Weak?” she repeats, narrowing her eyes. Slowly, she walks toward my clothes, gathering each piece, one by one.
“What are you doing?” I ask nervously.
She turns and winks at me. “Night, Pietro. You know where I live. I’ll see you back at the apartment,” she adds sweetly.
“Hey, no, don’t leave! What about my clothes?” I ask, hurdling the fountain’s edge, my hand cupped over my junk, running after her as she doubles over laughing.
“Here.” She tosses me my underwear, laughing. I struggle into them, following her down the sidewalk, my eyes pleading her for more. She tosses me my shirt next, not even trying to contain her amusement.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I grumble, catching my pants as she throws them at me. I jump into them, ignoring the alarmed looks I’m getting from people passing by. She hands me my shoes, and I shrug them on as I’m walking. We take a cab the rest of the way to her apartment. Luce waves at her doorman, who looks at me suspiciously.
“He’s okay,” she assures him, laughing. “He only looks like a serial killer.”
Still laughing, she gets into the elevator with me behind her. My clothes cling to my damp body. I’m freezing, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.
“Maybe you should take a shower.”
She giggles as we enter her apartment. I glare at her, which makes her laugh even harder.
“What? I don’t want you getting sick.”
“Oh, is that why you made me walk halfway back in my boxers?” I ask, my tone dry.
“I’m sorry,” she says, biting her lip.
“No, you’re not,” I reply. I take a step toward her. Reaching up, I smooth her hair behind her ear. “You looked so beautiful dancing tonight,” I murmur. “It was worth freezing my ass off to see you like that.”
A lump forms in my throat. I so badly want to kiss her—and I’m sure she feels the same. My heart pounds as I gaze into her eyes and inch my lips toward hers. She’s so close I can feel her breath against mine. I’ve waited for this moment for so long and it’s finally going to happen.
Code of Honor Page 8