Not My Romeo

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Not My Romeo Page 11

by Kylie Gilmore


  “We are partners.”

  “Well, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like you’re running around setting up meetings and schmoozing donors without me.”

  “My friend wants to remain anonymous,” she said.

  Vince didn’t like being in the dark. It meant he wasn’t trusted.

  She went on. “I’m hoping we can get started in six weeks. Thirty of my best guys will show up and work under your direction.”

  He rocked back on his heels. “And what will you do?”

  “Consult on the historic preservation side like we said.”

  Vince planted his feet firmly on the ground. “Who’s the boss?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean when a decision has to be made about the project, who makes it?”

  “We both do.”

  “Wrong. I do.”

  “Vince, I thought we were working together.”

  “Yes, under my leadership.”

  “That hardly seems fair.”

  He sensed a win and relaxed considerably. “You need me.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “We sealed the deal,” he reminded her.

  She let out a heavy sigh. “I told you a butt rub didn’t count.”

  He bit back a smile. “What counts?”

  “Now you’re just teasing.”

  “I want to see you.” The words were out before he realized it was what he really wanted.

  “Why?”

  “I just do.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Where?”

  He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “What do you like to do?” He hoped it didn’t require too much exertion. He’d been working hard all week on that shopping center roof.

  “You want to meet for drinks?” she asked.

  “You like wings?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “Drinks and wings at Garner’s. It’s in Clover Park. I’ll swing by to pick you up at seven. Gimme your cell number in case I’m running late.”

  She rattled off the number.

  “Got it.” He hung up.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sophia hung up and considered what she’d just agreed to. Did Vince want more than just a working relationship? Did she? She was unfocused and jittery the rest of the day. Finally, she headed home, changed out of her work clothes and into jeans with a sheer gauzy shirt over a camisole. Vince showed up on time, freshly showered and smelling delicious.

  He held the door of the car open for her. When she got in, he said, “Did you tell your dad we’re working together?”

  “No. He won’t notice.”

  “Isn’t he going to notice you’ve got some of my guys on payroll?”

  “Only if he looks over the books. He hasn’t been in the office in more than a month.”

  “He’s going to disown you.”

  “He needs me too much. Besides, I’m selling the house in Greenport so he can make the company whole again. He’ll be grateful to be off the hook.”

  Vince raised a brow. “Does he know you’re selling the house?”

  “I’ll tell him when we get a viable offer.”

  He shook his head. “You’re devious.”

  “Resourceful.”

  “Hmmm…”

  She glanced at his profile, those sharp cheekbones, that strong jaw, a perfect lumberjack model face. “Vince?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is this a date?”

  “Do you want it to be?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Would it be so bad to go out with me?” he asked in an aggrieved tone.

  “You are the enemy.”

  “Yeah. I’ll be honest with you. I’m not big on relationships. So if you want to have a little fun, I’m your guy. If not, then it’s just drinks.”

  “Just drinks, then.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She got quiet. Guess putting on her best pushup bra and matching panties had been pointless. Because what happened after a little fun? Awkwardness. An even more tense business relationship. No, thanks.

  “Are you sure your anonymous donor friend plays for the other team?” he asked.

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because anyone who coughs up that amount of dough on short notice must have a strong connection to you.”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “We ended on good terms. We’re friends.”

  “He still wants you.”

  “I told you we’re friends.”

  “Guys don’t stay friends unless they want more action between the sheets.”

  She scowled. “You mean you don’t.”

  “I mean all guys don’t.”

  “You don’t know everything.”

  He smirked. “I know how guys think.”

  “So do I.”

  He glanced at her. “I sincerely doubt that.”

  “I’m very intuitive.”

  “So what am I thinking right now?”

  “You’re thinking I can’t wait to have a beer.”

  “You’re good.”

  “Told you.”

  He stopped at a red light and pinned her with a hot gaze and a slow, sexy smile. Her stomach fluttered. She forced a smile back.

  “Am I making you nervous?” he asked. “Because that was a very strange smile you just gave me.”

  Her leg jiggled. “Not at all.”

  “Good. You’re safe with me.”

  “Hmmm….”

  He hit the accelerator. “Really.”

  “You rubbed my butt,” she reminded him.

  “Bah. I was just playing around.”

  “Don’t play with me.”

  He chuckled. “But you’re so much fun to mess with.”

  “Seriously, don’t play with me.”

  “All right, all right.”

  They got to the bar, and Vince got them two seats near the big TV. He ordered a platter of wings and a couple of beers. Sophia dove right in. Vince watched the TV. The Sox were on tonight. She watched too. She liked baseball. During a commercial, he turned to her. “Oh, hey, sorry. I got distracted by the game.”

  “No problem.”

  “How was your day?” he asked, actually looking interested in her answer.

  “Sucky. Putting out fires. Paperwork got lost on a project, and I had to do everything over on an expedited basis.” She sipped her beer. “How was your day?”

  “Busy. Roofing.” He reached over and pressed his thumb to the side of her mouth, surprising her. “Sauce.”

  “Oh.”

  He dropped his hand and stared at her mouth. “Hey, you want to finish watching the game at my place?”

  “For a little fun?”

  His hand snuck up the back of her shirt, stroking her bare lower back. He met her eyes and gave her a slow, sexy smile. “If you want.”

  “No, thanks.”

  He dropped his hand. “You want to go home?”

  “After the seventh inning.”

  His eyes widened. “You actually like the game?”

  “Yeah.” The game came back on, and she returned her attention to the TV.

  “Wow,” he muttered under his breath. Then he grabbed her and hauled her into his lap. She let out a squeak. His arms wrapped around her waist. “I think you might be my dream girl,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Vince.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Gimme a break.” She wiggled to get off his lap, but his hands clamped on her hips, holding her in place.

  “Settle down now,” he said, resting his chin on her shoulder and watching the game.

  She did. And for the first time in a long time she felt light and carefree, held safe in his arms.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sophia met with Vince and the architect at the library for a site inspection. It was early Monday morning. The library wouldn’t open for a couple of more hours. She’d have to work late to make it up to her boss, but at least she was working from home mo
st of this week. Soon, they’d need to shut the library down and move the collection to a temporary location. But for now it was as it’d always been—musty and overloaded with books and DVDs.

  Vince jerked his chin at her. “Hey.”

  She jerked her chin, playing the macho guy back. “Hey.”

  He grinned and shook his head. After they’d watched the game, he’d driven her back home and walked her to the door. She’d given him a firm handshake goodnight, which made him laugh, and then he left. He’d been upfront with her about not wanting a relationship. She took him at his word. So what if she craved him? She could find someone she craved that also wanted a relationship.

  Vince rattled off a list of problems with the oldest part of the library to the architect as they moved through the space, starting with the ancient electrical to the crumbling foundation and leaky roof. Nothing she hadn’t seen before. She took note of the original pieces they’d like to preserve from the mosaic foyer to the front door and especially the fireplace in the front meeting room. They were working their way through to the back of the library when a voice boomed, “There he is! The prodigal son!”

  Sophia whirled to find her dad standing there, hands on his hips, glaring at Vince. Her dad approached, all badass swagger, as much as a man in his sixties could when faced with the likes of a model lumberjack in the muscled perfection of Vince Marino. Vince glanced at her quickly, and she sent him an apologetic look. There were always apologies necessary with her dad. Vince met her dad halfway.

  Her dad scowled. “Looking at you is like looking at Vinny.” He said “Vinny” like it was an extremely distasteful thing. Her dad with his heavyset brow and protruding jaw was a very manly man, but not pretty. Her mom always said she married him for his oozing sexuality, which made Sophia wish her mom treated her more like a daughter and less like a confidante because, really, who wanted to think of their dad that way?

  “Thank you,” Vince boomed.

  Sophia rushed over. “Dad, what are you doing here? I said I had it handled.” Heat crept up her neck. The architect wandered away, giving them privacy.

  “Scram, Vince,” her dad said, hitching his thumb toward the exit. “I’ve got it from here.”

  “I’m lead on this project,” Vince said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Well, now I’m lead. So get out.” Her dad was a good six inches shorter than Vince, with a wiry frame, but damn if he wasn’t his usual pit bull self.

  “Dad, please,” Sophia said. “I’ve got it.”

  “No, you don’t,” her dad barked. “Or you wouldn’t still be taking orders from this guy.” He jabbed a finger at Vince.

  “I’m not taking orders,” she replied calmly. “We just got here. We’re doing a site inspection.”

  Her dad frowned. “You can go, Sophia.” The remark stung. She was good to keep around for some things, like total chaos, but once her usefulness had passed, it was go away. She blinked rapidly. She should have expected this.

  “Don’t talk to her like that,” Vince snapped.

  Her dad puffed out his chest. “Or what?” And then, hand to God, her dad spat on the floor by Vince’s feet in challenge. This was so embarrassing.

  Vince ignored it and turned his back on them, continuing with the site inspection with the architect on the other side of the room.

  Her dad shook his fist at him. “Coward! I’m calling your dad to see what he thinks about this travesty!”

  Vince kept ignoring him. Sophia wanted to shrink into a hole in the floor. Her dad kicked over a plastic recycle can and stormed out.

  “Soph, get over here,” Vince said. “We need you in the loop.”

  Her spirits lifted at his casual inclusion of her. She returned to Vince and the architect. “Sorry about that. I’ll talk to him.”

  “It’s good you got your mom’s looks,” Vince said, sparing her a glance.

  She laughed despite herself. They finished up their meeting, and Vince walked her out to her car.

  He stopped, leaning a hand against the roof of the car. “Don’t forget my dad only agreed to this if your dad wasn’t involved. Make sure he understands I’m the boss.”

  “You’re not the boss,” she countered. “We’re sharing the leadership.”

  “You can think that all you want, but that don’t make it true.”

  “There is no I in team,” she said.

  He bit back a smile. “My dream girl wouldn’t challenge my alpha status.”

  She grinned. “Maybe I’m not your dream girl.”

  He stepped back and took her in from head to toe. “I like that skirt.”

  She heated under his gaze. "Thank you for not getting into it with my dad.”

  “I pick my battles.”

  “Smart.”

  “I’m not known for my smarts.”

  “What are you known for?”

  He tipped her chin up, held it for a moment and leaned close, his breath fanning over her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  And then he left, leaving her craving again. Dammit.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sophia went home from work that night to find her dad back home. The for-sale sign was tossed on the front lawn. She went inside and braced herself.

  “I’m not selling the house,” he announced.

  “Dad, we need the money. And you don’t need this big old place.”

  “How dare you put it up for sale without telling me!”

  “I’m the one living here. I’m the one doing everything while you eat pizza and drink beer in your bathrobe. What was I supposed to do?”

  “I’m moving back in,” he boomed. “You need me to take charge. You are hereby relieved of the Clover Park Library project.”

  Sophia sighed. “Dad, I’m not leaving the project. I worked out a good deal. Our company working the historic architecture angle, Marino working the new construction angle.”

  “Marino! No way. We’re new construction. There’s no angle, Sophia! Whose side are you on?” He paced the living room.

  “Our side. Obviously. Who do you think’s been working all this time to keep us afloat? All while barely hanging onto my own job. My boss isn’t happy with the time I’ve taken off to get this project off the ground. I’ll be lucky if they don’t fire me! It’s not like you’re paying me.”

  He stopped pacing and looked at her. “Okay, okay. But everything’s fine now. I’m back. And Marino’s out.”

  “We signed a contract with them.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll work on that. This baby is ours all the way. As soon as the first payment rolls in, I’ll put you on payroll.”

  She wasn’t so sure she wanted to work for her dad full time. “I’ll have to think—”

  “Have you heard from your mother lately?”

  She’d received a series of texts from her mom explaining she wasn’t pregnant, but was, in fact, perimenopausal and had merely missed a period. Again, too much information shared. “Yes, she’s fine, and she’s not pregnant.”

  Her dad’s eyes bugged out. “She’s not?”

  “No.”

  He punched a hand in the air. “I’m getting her back!” He headed for the door and then turned back, muttering about a suitcase.

  “Dad, don’t go to Florida. Please. She seems very set on staying there.” With Manuel the hottie poolboy. He was beautiful if you liked gorgeous Brazilian guys with high libidos. Again, too much information from her mom. A visit would only set her dad back. And he’d finally scraped himself off the sofa at his brother’s house.

  He paced back and forth and finally stopped in front of her. “All right, all right. I’ll wait until she misses me more. Back to business. We have to find a way to push Marino out of this project. Think, Sophia.”

  “Dad,” she said patiently, “Capello Construction wouldn’t even be viable if they hadn’t partnered with us.”

  “I never agreed to a partnership.”

  “I did, on your behalf.”

  “A
nd I suppose Vince did on his dad’s behalf?”

  “I met with his dad, and he signed off on it.”

  “I’m calling that yellow-bellied asshole,” her dad shouted, heading for the kitchen for the phone. It was the old-fashioned kind from the ’80s with a long cord. He didn’t like to use his cell phone because he feared it would give him brain cancer. He kept one only for work.

  “Dad, please don’t. Just let us handle this one. It doesn’t have to be a permanent arrangement. Just a trial project.”

  He held the phone and paused. “Are you sweet on him? His son, I mean.”

  Her cheeks heated. “It’s just a project. But Vince knows what he’s doing. More than I do.”

  “Well, I know what I’m doing too. And I’m back!”

  With that, he dialed Vince’s dad (he appeared to have the number memorized), hollered for ten minutes straight, then hung up.

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  “We’ll see. I left a message on his work voicemail.”

  “For ten minutes?” she asked incredulously.

  “Well, it beeped, but I figure it has some more time after that. What’re you making for dinner?”

  “Salad.”

  “Meh. Fine. Got any prosciutto?”

  “Yes, I have prosciutto.”

  “Fix me a plate? Please.”

  “You know where the plates are,” she said.

  He stomped off to the kitchen. She sighed. Maybe she should move back to her place in Brooklyn. Her dad wasn’t the easiest man to live with. On the other hand, she did want to work on the Clover Park project, which was easier to do from her parents’ house than from Brooklyn. And she’d already invested a good amount of time in what was proving to be an interesting project. Of course, now that her dad was back, she wasn’t sure how long they’d still be involved in the job. Her dad wasn’t winning any brownie points with the firm that had saved them.

  ~ ~ ~

  Vince hung up the phone with his dad later that night and rubbed the back of his neck. Ever since Sophia crashed into his life, things had gotten complicated. His dad was irate over a phone call from Joe Capello. It seemed Joe wanted Marino and Sons out, and Vince’s dad was digging his heels in and told Vince they weren’t dropping this project under any circumstances. They had a signed contract and were moving forward as planned.

 

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