“I keep telling you it’s their loss, but this guy, he sounds like the kind of guy who will break your heart.”
“Give me some credit. I’m twenty-seven now. I know a bad boy when I see one. Especially one who would never commit. Besides, you’ll be happy to know he doesn’t even know my name. So everyone can just stay out of my love life.”
Beth takes a sip of water, one hand on her belly as she stares at me. “Just reminding you. Remember Sam has that cousin who really liked you at the wedding.”
Mae cringes behind my sister’s back because I told her all about the guy with the bad breath and a diamond stud who wouldn’t leave me alone at my sister’s wedding.
“Thanks, but I don’t think he’s my type.”
Beth rolls her eyes. “I can see that. I mean, he’s a nice guy looking for a wife and excited to have a family. Definitely not Annie Stewart’s type.”
I’ve never been so happy to see my sister waddle away.
Mae rushes over and sits on a stack of boxes. “So tell us for real. How was he to work with?”
“Well, after the striptease and asking me to lick whipped cream off his abs…”
Mae’s eyes are practically lighting up.
“Snap out of it,” I scold. “It was horrible, and now Mr. Jacobson wants me to work on the Coddle ad with him because I opened my big mouth in the meeting.”
Jake stops and slides to the side of the box. “You get to work on the Coddle account?”
“Well, I mean, who knows. Mr. Mancini will probably squeeze me out.”
“Do not let him. This is your big opportunity.” Jake’s hands land on my shoulders. “You better let me ride your rainbow all the way to the top with you.”
I laugh. “I’m pretty sure I’m going nowhere.”
“It’s the biggest account Jacobson and Earl have ever had a shot at. I heard the diapers account is only the beginning. That if we nail the diaper campaign, they’ll shift everything over to us. A whole rebranding of all their product lines.” Jake’s way more excited than I am. “Pretty soon, you’ll be out of Inwood and moving to the Upper East Side.”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up. Honestly. Nothing is going to happen.”
Jake raises his eyebrows and returns to unpacking boxes. Mae squeezes my forearm and gives me a smile.
I take a moment to let it sink in… what it might mean if I actually get to contribute to the Coddle campaign. It would do amazing things for my career. But working alongside Enzo Mancini presents its own challenges. Challenges I’m determined to meet.
Chapter 4
Enzo
* * *
“What are you so pissed off at?” Carm asks, shoving the basketball at my chest.
“Nothing. Let’s just play.”
“You ditched me last night. Wanna talk about that?”
“Sorry.” I dribble and dodge by him, scoring.
We’re warming up, waiting for the rest of our team. Dom isn’t here yet, which is odd. He’s usually the one waiting for us.
“Sorry? I waited at the bar for an hour, man.”
“I told you. I got caught up at the office.” I check the ball and bounce it back to him.
He shakes his head. “Who is she?”
Carm dribbles by me, and I have no energy to fight him. I was up half the night, trying to figure out why I hadn’t landed the best account to come my way. A deal that should have earned me a seat at the table. Making partner at thirty-one? It’s unheard of, but I deserve it. Or I did until yesterday.
“She? What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.
“You’ve never ditched me, except for that time that girl surprised you. Remember, the lingerie, the soft music, the dinner…”
“You’re such a chick. How do you remember that stuff? All I remember from that evening is her on her knees, right about to deep throat me, then asking me to meet her parents the next morning for brunch. She was either brilliant or an idiot. It was a good tactic, but she didn’t get one by me.” I dribble and take a three-pointer.
Carm grabs the ball, dribbling to the top of the line. “You’re such an asshole. If Ma knew what you do, she’d smack you upside the head.” He throws the ball back to me to check, and I bounce it his way.
“You’re judging me? I don’t see any permanent fixtures in your life.”
He shrugs and smirks.
“What? You dating someone?”
“Hell no, but I like to think I’m not as screwed up in the head as you are. That one day I’ll make Mama understand why I’m her favorite.” He winks, ducks left, then goes right for a lay-up.
“For starters, I’m not screwed up in the head. I like my life. I’m not anti-anything, I just like not answering to anyone. I like being a bachelor.”
“And you like a different woman every week.” He laughs, tossing me the ball.
“Variety is the spice of life, brother.”
He laughs.
“Seriously though, it’s not even about the women. It’s the fact that no one’s telling me I have to go shopping on Saturday and dragging me around a million candle shops or taking me on a wild goose chase to find a certain color rug.” I toss the ball to him for a check.
He rolls his eyes. “God forbid.”
“Oh please, you can stop the whole holier-than-thou act. You’re not exactly a put-a-ring-on-it kind of guy either.”
He laughs. “True, but it’s more fun making fun of you. For me, it’s my schedule. I don’t have the time.”
“Speaking of, how’s the new ad campaign going?” I step to the side and swish one in for another three-pointer.
“The cocky asshole image works.” He shrugs.
A grin tilts up the corner of my lips. See, this is where I excel. Give me a sports car, a cologne, a deodorant, any product geared to the male persuasion, and I’ll nail the campaign with one suggestion. But this whole diaper, baby, family crap is impossible to understand. I spent most of last night replaying the meeting with Coddle. Including the way Annie slid in and stripped their attention from me and saved the day.
“Hello?” Carm waves his hand in front of my face.
I blink, shaking my head before I spend all day today trying to figure out the missing puzzle piece.
“What’s going on?” he presses when I dribble, and he blocks the shot without much effort.
“Nothing. Just work.”
He glances at the clock. “Where the hell is Dom? Do you want to talk?”
I stare off to the side and wonder if I do. I’m not a touchy-feely guy, but this is work, and if anyone understands being at the top of your game, it’s my brother. I nod, so we walk over to the bleachers and sit. We both sip our waters. Playing at my old school gym brings back memories of when I was a pretty big deal.
“This new account,” I say. “It’s for diapers, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m struggling to come up with a great campaign.”
He laughs, clutching his stomach. “Why the hell would they give you a diaper campaign?”
“Because it’s the big fish and I’ve got the biggest hook.”
He chuckles, crushing his empty water bottle. “Your ego amazes me.”
“You share the same one, so I’m not sure why you’re surprised.”
The doors open and Dom busts in with his arms open wide. “The party has arrived!”
“Only one of us has a bigger ego in this family.” Carm rolls his eyes. “Finally.”
Dom drops his bag on the bleachers. “Sorry, guys. Had a hard time getting out of bed this morning.” He hits the basketball from under my arm and dribbles it through his legs and spins it on his finger as though he’s the next Globetrotter.
“Do I even want to know?” I ask.
“We don’t.” Carm smacks the ball out of Dom’s hand and dribbles to the hoop.
“She might be worth a second time.” He clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “And get this. After shower sex this morning, she’s the one who handed me my clothes a
nd said she had somewhere to be.”
I stare dumbfounded at my older brother. “So hold up, you wanted to stay, and she told you to go? And that’s a good thing?”
Dom steals the ball from Carm and throws it at me. “Yeah, it means she doesn’t want strings. How fuckin’ perfect is that? I’ve been searching for a consistent hook-up who isn’t going to harp on and on about my time at the office, marriage, and babies.”
“Way to have goals in life.” I toss the ball to Carm, who dribbles past Dom and scores.
“It’s the perfect plan. I don’t have to leave work early just to butter up some girl at a club.”
“Perfect. You can sit at your desk, have Uber Eats deliver your food, and now order sex on speed dial.” Carm’s sarcastic tone doesn’t register to Dom.
“I know, right?”
I shake my head. “Let’s just play.”
I need to get my head away from my problems—one Annie Stewart and one diaper company—for at least the next hour.
All three of us are sweaty messes when we arrive at my parents’ house.
Walking in, the smell of garlic accosts us. I bet my brothers’ stomachs rumble from the smell too. All three of us walk right through the living room into the kitchen, take forks from the drawer, and stab the simmering meatballs. We give my mom a wave because she has the phone pressed to her ear.
“Oh, Maria, I’m so happy for you. Yes, we need to get planning. Let us know when a date is set. Ciao.”
My brothers and I stop and stare at one another, knowing we’re walking into another rendition of “why can’t you be more like your cousins.”
Ma puts down her phone and smiles at us. Not one word about us digging into the meal she’s yet to finish preparing. She doesn’t tell us what furniture she wants moved to the basement so she can make a sewing room out of a bedroom. She just turns her back and stirs the gravy.
Our faces fall. Somehow, this is worse than the lecture.
We point at one another, trying to silently force one of us to make the first move. With that not accomplishing anything, we set our forks on the tray and run a game of rock, paper, scissors.
Our fists slam into our palms three times.
Dom chooses paper.
Carm chooses paper.
I choose rock.
Damn it.
My asshole brothers laugh and pick up their forks, smiles plastered to their faces.
“Ma?” I ask. “How’s Zia?”
“Luca proposed. Wait until your dad hears when he gets home from work. He won’t believe it. I’ll let you boys know when we hear about a wedding date.”
I close my eyes. The worst part about having three bachelors as sons is apparently having a sister who has three sons who all recently fell in love. This is the second proposal in the Bianco family, and I’m sure the third isn’t far behind.
I place my hands on her shoulders and kiss her cheek. “I love you.”
She pats my hand on her shoulder. “Love you.”
We’re in uncharted territory here. Ma usually raises her wooden spoon and tells us exactly what we need to do to fix her mood. She’s not a hold-it-all-inside kind of woman.
I stare at my brothers, unsure of what to do. They shrug, still chewing their meatballs. When my eyes widen, they head over to Ma and gush over how great the food is and how much they love her.
“Grab some plates.” She reaches into the cabinet and shoves them into my stomach. “Eat.”
We do as she says, filling our plates with pasta and meatballs while Ma busies herself in the kitchen. Everyone is silent until we hit the dining room.
“What the hell?” I whisper-shout.
“Fucking Biancos.” Dom shakes his head. “They’ve screwed us over.”
I shrug. “Not really their fault.”
“I only see one solution,” Carm says.
“What?” Dom asks, taking a seat.
“One of us has to get married.” He places his fork on the plate and prepares his hands for rock, paper, scissors.
I shake my head. “No.”
Dom follows suit with Carm.
“You’re both demented. I’m not gonna find some woman to marry because I lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.”
“Because you always lose,” Dom says as though it’s fact.
“I’ve won plenty.”
“Not really,” Carm chimes in.
“I won last week. Let’s remember who was first to jump out of the airplane.”
Dom and Carm share a look as though they set that up for me to win. Whatever. Jackasses.
“Let’s make Blanca do it,” Dom suggests.
“Sure, we’ll just hire out a groom for our baby sister?”
My little sister is only twenty-five and way too young to settle down.
“I bet between the three of us we know a lot of good guys,” Carm suggests.
“I say oldest goes first.” I smile at Dom, spiraling my spaghetti onto my fork.
Dom wipes his mouth. “Why the oldest?”
“You’re supposed to forge the path for us. You know, set an example.” Carm slaps him on the back.
“You’re the emotional one.” Dom nods at Carm.
“What the hell does that mean?” He looks at me to see if I’m in agreement.
I nod. “If any of us is going to settle down, it’s you.”
“Why?”
I almost laugh out loud at the offended look on Carm’s face. You’d think I’d said he’s a misogynist or racist or something.
“You were always hanging off Ma, telling on us when we were little. You used to sleep with her and Dad until you were, like, sixteen,” Dom says before piling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.
Carm sets down his fork. “I was eight and I suffered from night terrors, okay? You assholes were always watching those scary movies.”
Dom and I share a laugh.
“So it’s settled. You got the short straw.” I point at Carm with my fork.
“No.”
“Come on, Carm. Take one for the team,” Dom adds.
“Assholes,” he whispers.
“We gotta figure out something to make Mama happy,” I whisper.
“I say we throw this one to Blanca,” Carm says.
I think about it. Although it sounded horrible before, she’s the most logical choice. And it’s not like we’d ever let her be with some douche.
“Yeah, and then Ma gets to go dress shopping and plan everything. It’s perfect really,” Dom says.
I shrug. Better her than me. “Sure.”
“Then we’re in agreement. Now, who tells Blanca the plan?” Dom asks.
We set our forks on our plates, knocking our fists on our palms three times.
Dom shoots scissors.
Carm shoots scissors.
I shoot paper.
They laugh and pick up their forks.
Assholes.
Chapter 5
Annie
* * *
Monday morning, I stuff my purse into the bottom drawer of my desk and boot up my computer while checking the messages for Mr. Beardsman.
After listening to his messages, I check my own. The first one is from Mr. Beardsman.
“Hi, Annie. I heard the great news about the Coddle account. You’re in luck, because I must have caught something, and I’ll be out today. I know you’re going to have to go back and forth, so unless it’s urgent, don’t worry about me. Hopefully, I kick this today. Have a great day and congratulations again. You deserve this opportunity.”
I hang up and turn off his light before shutting his office door. The news already traveled that fast?
My desk phone rings, and I pick it up. “Hello?”
“Miss Stewart, I’m waiting,” Mr. Mancini says. Click.
What a jerk.
I stand, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, then walk through the maze of cubicles to his office. Jake’s eyebrows raise as I pass him and knock on the glass door labeled, Lorenzo Mancini:
Senior Advertising Executive.
The first thing I notice is that Mr. Mancini’s assistant’s desk is still vacant. It’s not like I thought they could fill the job so quickly, but I thought they’d at least call in a temp.
“Come in.”
I walk in and notice his suit jacket hanging on a hanger inside a closet outside his bathroom. His sleeves are rolled up and he looks more as if it’s five o’clock, not nine in the morning. What time does he come in?
“So you’re aware, I’m an early riser, so you’ll need to get here by eight. If I don’t have clients, I take lunch in my office at twelve-thirty. You can check my schedule on your desktop. The old assistant had a list of my likes and dislikes there too.”
My pen stops scrawling midway through when I realize I’m taking notes on things that don’t pertain to me. “I’m sorry, why are you telling me this?”
He looks up from his computer. “You’re my new assistant.”
“What?” Jacobson and Earl aren’t known for great communication, but I think if I’d been reassigned, someone would have mentioned it.
“Jesus. No one told you?” He scowls and picks up his phone. “Shelby. My office. Now.” He hangs up on her.
The more I get to know him, the uglier he gets.
Okay, that’s not true, but I wish it were.
Shelby knocks a minute later.
“Come in.”
She’s wearing another mid-calf skirt and blouse with a cardigan her cats must have used for a blanket. “I just got in. You’re way ahead of the game, Mr. Mancini. Miss Stewart was my first line of business.”
I lean back in my seat, waiting.
“Please tell her the wonderful news.” Mr. Mancini holds out his arm and leans back in his executive high back chair.
Shelby takes the chair next to me but sits on the edge as if she doesn’t plan on staying long. “After Friday with Coddle, Mr. Jacobson thinks it’s better for you to work directly with Mr. Mancini. Until we can hire a replacement for Mr. Beardsman, you’ll have to cover both jobs, but I know Mr. Beardsman isn’t a high demander of your time.” She smiles.
“So you want me to do two jobs for one pay?” I clarify.
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