His arrogance withers the moment his eyes flicker to mine. “Yeah, about that meeting…”
“May I have a word?”
“Can’t ya see I’m preoccupied?” Bryce’s disdain towards me shifts and dissolves as he stares down at my potential intern with a wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, babe. We have all the time in the world.”
I’m forced to avert my eyes when they continue going at it. My jaw can’t clench tighter, any more and the bone will launch out of my skin and boomerang across the room, knocking this Cockney out. But now that I think of it, that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
No.
Get your head in the game, Giannotti.
“Mr. McCarson. A. Word. Now.”
“I said wait one fucking minute.”
“Miss Aguilar, if you could kindly give Mr. McCarson and I some privacy.”
“She’s busy too. Get out! We’ll tell ya when we’re done.”
A string of Italian curses spill from my tongue as I leave, slam the door shut and move up in the hallway to cancel their exaggerated moans. He’s doing it all purposely. For the love of God.
Luckily, I brought my phone to kill time.
Giulio: Let me fire him and I’ll give you anything you want.
Marcus: Okay, give me planet Mars.
Giulio: Grow up. Fuck it, I don’t need your permission. I’m firing him.
Marcus: Then I’ll call the police and tell them everything I saw… EVERYTHING.
And just like that, he wins.
Marcus has my entire life on a string because of one single action when I was younger. One move and now I can’t even terminate the contract of this Brit banging a woman at work.
Giulio: You owe me for this.
Marcus: You owe ME.
A few moments pass before Bryce McCarson’s door swings open and I intercept Miss Aguilar as she steps out. She glances up at me with a small smile, adjusting the chain of her bag. “Sorry, Mr. Giannotti. I don’t think I was cut out for the job anyway.”
We were supposed to sign the contract today. Now I need to find a replacement before Tuesday. It’s virtually impossible on its own and then if you add the fact it’s Labor Day weekend…Thanks, McCarson!
“I respect your decision.”
“Thank you. Goodbye, Mr. Giannotti.”
Inside Bryce McCarson’s office, I stare right through him. Unbelievable.
I’m beyond livid.
Bryce slips on his infamous vintage t-shirt, failing to cover up his heavy inked chest and full sleeves of tattoos. My patience snapped the first day he worked here and now that I can’t even get rid of the guy, I’m climbing the walls. Nevertheless, he isn’t going to win this. He made it clear that last time would be the last time. Now Bryce leans by his desk, arms crossed, with a smugness in his distant green eyes. “She’s really something, aye?”
“Sit down.”
Bryce’s smirk enlarges and his arrogance leads him to an assertive head shake, all the while whisking a hand through his dark brown hair, the same color as his short tamed beard.
“Sit down.”
Nothing.
“Why is it that my children listen better than you and they’re six?”
“It’s the way to live. You should try it sometimes. You’d probably like it.”
I step closer and cock my head to the side, intensifying the bad blood between us with one look. “What did you just say?”
“Ya need hearing aids?”
His rumbling Cockney accent vexes me. The fact he believes he can speak to anybody in this manner has me appalled to have him represent my business.
“Maybe if you found a woman to—”
“BRYCE!” I sneer, grinding my molars at every letter. Is he serious? “The next time you seduce one of my potential employees or existing clients and act smart about it you’ll have the most nominal fragment in correlation to my company. Is that understood?”
“Now, is that supposed to scare me?” Bryce scoffs with a wide smirk. “Because it’s not doing the job…which has me ask, does Marcus Giannotti know about your little scheme?”
“This is my company.”
“And Marcus hired me. If and when he sees fit, he will be the one to fire me. Not you.”
It doesn’t matter what I do, I can never get through to this man. Once he has his trademark smug smirk in place, it doesn’t depart from him, along with his dedication to consume me in rage.
Looking out the window, I focus on my heavy breaths. “You drive me insane. You really do.”
“Boss,” Bryce mocks, “well, that’s the first time a man has ever said that he—”
The neckline of his t-shirt is fisted in my grip before he can finish. The cords in my neck tighten, threatening to explode any second now with the amount of animosity coaxing my tongue. Our stubbles cross amongst the commotion, two flickering flames on the edge of engulfing at one more stroke of the match.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Fucking. Building. Now.” My lips meet his ear in a staccato hiss. “Go home, screw your head on, and come into the office Tuesday as a proper thirty-year-old man.”
“I already did the screwing part.”
The unnerving comment has me release my grip and take a solid look at him. Bryce is solemn now, but I know it won’t last long. “You’ll return Tuesday morning dedicated to your job. Anything less and you’ll suffer the consequences. I won’t go lightly on you. End of discussion.”
“Nutter!” Bryce snarls, always needing to have the last word, and his shoulder intentionally slams into mine during his departure. I don’t have the time nor the energy to react.
Not today.
I need to pick up the twins.
Bourbon soothes my throat, numbing my mind and plucking away the strings holding my heart together. I need to call Valencia. I know I do. Now is the perfect time with the twins in bed. My shoulders are tense and I don’t know if it’s due to the thought of her, the workday I’ve had, or because I’m in Addilyn’s nursery. Yet I fall into the wingback chair and take another swig.
It took weeks for me to step inside this room and now it’s the only place I can find refuge. The dusty pink walls. The lingering scent of vanilla. The abandoned bassinet. The godforsaken window. This is where it happened. This is where we lost her.
It still doesn’t feel real.
I pick up my phone and call Valencia. The line rings and rings. It draws out. All into one.
She doesn’t want to talk.
Why should she after how I acted? After all, I’m just a man. A man not happy with the world. Forced to hate it by external sources. Doing my best to accept it without falling into a conscious pit of terror.
“Giulio?”
She answered.
“Valencia.”
“Sorry, my phone was charging in another room. Are the kids okay?”
“They’re perfect.” My fingers drum against the rim of my glass. She sounds placid, not enraged like I initially expected. “I want to talk, but if you’re busy—”
She cuts me off. “No, it’s okay. We can talk now. Let me…go to the living room.”
“Take your time.”
Valencia’s hum vibrates straight down my body. The wave travels to my heart first, my abdomen, and then even lower.
“Okay. What is it you wanted to talk about?”
I exhale sharply. “I fucked up last night. I deeply regret speaking to you the way I did. Nobody deserves to be spoken to like that. Especially somebody who is battling through so much. I mean, slamming the pills like that…you know I don’t do that type of thing. The last thing I want to do is cause additional suffering. I’m so sorry and I know these words at times are not enough; if there was a way to demonstrate it I would, but it’s all I can say now.”
There’s a moment of silence until her voice cracks through the phone. “Thank you. However, you’re not entirely to blame as I was the one to initiate it. Last night was tough for both of us…I’m sorry.”
“It still d
oesn’t make it right that I acted that way.”
“We just really miss her, Giulio. We miss her and we take it out on each other.”
Valencia couldn’t have said it more perfectly. That’s exactly what’s happening between us. It kills me to know that as much as I someday hope we can be on the same team, all I see in our path right now is uncertainty.
“Exactly. Especially the way she was stripped from us.”
“It was the worst possible way.”
“I feel you.” I have a death grip on my phone, as if somebody is seconds from pulling it away, and I won’t ever be able to speak to Valencia again. “There’s…something else I’d like to discuss.”
“Sure, go on.”
Now or never, Giannotti.
“Would you be interested in working with me at Notti Designs?”
Silence greets me.
She wasn’t expecting this.
She’s going to say no.
“You want me to work with you?”
“Yes. Temporarily as my assistant with hours adjusted to suit,” I confirm. “It’s a six week paid contract. Amanda is on personal leave and issues arose with the internship program.”
“Giulio…I don’t know.”
“I know how it seems, but there’s no catch. Perhaps this will be…a good thing.”
Perhaps it will change everything.
It would mean seeing her almost every day as apposed only Sunday afternoon where we swap custody. I pick up the kids from school on Thursdays and have them through to Sunday noon. The encounter is always brief when I drop them off. Sometimes we barely speak.
Her voice softens. “How do we work together when we don’t agree on a single thing?”
“For our kids.”
“They would love it. The problem is apart from logical reception duties, I don’t have the skills. Even I were to say yes, I don’t want to be treated with leniency.”
“I know it’s not your field but no other company understands our situation. Nobody will judge you and everybody respects you. If you’re struggling with concentration, perhaps this can help it. If it doesn’t, then after the six weeks we don’t have to ever speak about it again.”
“That’s the appeal.”
She’s considering it.
Please, say yes.
I clear my throat. “The job would accommodate to finish before school hours on the days you have custody of the twins. On Thursdays and Fridays, I would expect a 5 P.M. finish.”
“When would I start?”
“Tuesday.”
“You mean this upcoming Tuesday? The day after Labor Day?”
“Well Tuesday typically comes after Monday, but yes that’s the one…”
It warms me to hear her beautiful laugh. It’s been so long. “You just had to add that in, huh?”
“You know me; I couldn’t let it slide.” I smile in the dark like a fool. A fool still in love.
“I’m glad you didn’t.” Valencia murmurs. “Can I think abou—you know what? I’ll do it!”
The fool’s grinning now. “You will?”
“I will. Only because you need the help and I’ve been losing my mind doing nothing all day.”
I can hear the hint of a smile in her voice and it brightens every part of my being. With every single thing that went wrong today, she’s the one thing that’s right.
“Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I say, my voice low. “Anything at all.”
Beats pass, those that match my heartbeat.
“Before we met and you were taking anti-depressants too, did you suffer from insomnia? I have the occasional dizziness, nausea and sometimes my energy just isn’t there, but I’m talking extreme insomnia. Like some nights I’m okay, but others I’m lucky to get four hours. I haven’t spoken to my doctor yet but have heard it’s a normal side effect. What do you think?”
My heart aches for Valencia.
Our suffering should have never reached this far.
“I used to be the same. For about a whole year there were only a couple good nights. I had to avoid coffee, imagine how hard that was for me! If your doctor approves, take them in the morning. It’ll give your body more time to adjust. Anti-depressants generally take four to five weeks to kick into the system, so never just stop taking them; give it some more time to work.”
She breathes out a sigh of relief. “That’s everything I needed to hear. Thanks, I’ll suggest that to her. As you know it’s hard. You can’t sleep with all these worries clouding your mind and when you finally do sleep it’s always so disrupted. All I want is for them to help me out.”
“I want that for you too. I’m always here if you need to talk. You know that, right?”
“I do…and I’m here for you too. Anytime, Giulio.”
“Grazie.”
“I knew you would understand.”
A lump forms in my throat. I can’t believe I broke something so precious to her. “I would understand regardless. I took them for years until I felt like myself again and subsequently met you months later. You became my permanent cure. My reason for being in the aftermath of my past and what it led to. You loved me when there was no one else, Valencia.” I need to pause to swallow the emotion and the fact that my voice broke when I said her name. “You accepted me with all my flaws and I’m glad you know that even though times are rough…talk to me. I don’t want you to go through this alone. Never feel ashamed for taking anti-depressants. If they are helping you to overcome these problems, then that’s all that matters. Promise me you’ll remember that.”
“I promise, Giulio.”
“Good. It’s getting late. I should let you go.”
“Thank you for the job and for calling.”
Don’t hang up. Think of something else to say.
“It’s okay.”
Way to go, Giannotti.
“Giulio?”
I launch upright in the wingback chair. “Yes?”
The silence feels like years pass, but in reality, it’s seconds; seconds that can change an entire lifetime. If we only shared similar views or could accept each other’s, she would be here. We would be confiding in one another, not miles away from each other all tattered and bruised.
“I want to be transparent with the kids about our struggles, but I also want them to be secure and have faith. They don’t know about the pills. I’d like to keep it that way for now.”
“I won’t say a thing.”
“Appreciated,” she says. “I really have you to thank for the times you were vulnerable enough to show me taking pills doesn’t define who you are. It’s okay to seek help. Essential, even.”
“That’s exactly right. Don’t listen to what anybody else thinks. You know how your body…” I need to halt my words. The visual alone has me rubbing a hand over my face. “You know how your body feels and so listen to it on the days you need a rest. You’re also entitled to unlimited personal days within these six weeks.”
“I want to be treated like everybody else but I appreciate it.”
I appreciate you, amore.
“It’s the least I can do.”
“I won’t keep you up any longer. I’ll see you on Sunday. Goodnight!”
“Goodnight, Valencia.”
I hang up the phone with a heavy heart, replaying every single word we just said. All I want to do is talk to her all night long, just like we used to when we were dating, but I fear that if I didn’t end the call there, our peaceful conversation would soon devolve into an unforgivable one.
God.
I take a cold shower, each droplet reviving every inch of my body until I’m calmer. I’m sitting on my bed in sweatpants, replying to emails when I sense I’m not alone.
Slonne stands by my doorframe, tears cascading down her cheeks and dripping onto her pink cupcake flannel pajamas. The despair in her stance has me tossing my phone and scooping her in my arms.
“It�
��s okay.” My lips press against her forehead in a warm comfort. “I’m here, darling.”
“I wanna sleep here with you,” she sobs into my neck and I hold her even tighter.
“Of course, my darling girl.” After wiping away Slonne’s tears, I set her on the bed with her puppy slippers dangling over the edge. My large hands clasp her soft small ones and peer into her dismayed eyes. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“Ye-Yes. Monsters were in my room and then bad guys took Mommy. We couldn’t find her and she got lost forever!”
Her nightmares have become much more frequent since the abduction. Some days were more optimistic than others. Group therapy with Dr. Melanie has helped them tremendously and although Slonne frequents it more than Oscar, it settles me to know professional help is there whenever they need it.
“It was only a dream, baby. Mommy’s safe.”
“But what if bad guys really do something to her?”
“Daddy’s not going to let anything happen to her, you, or your brother.” I kiss her nose and smile. “I promise. It wasn’t real, carina. Now you’re awake and everything is okay.”
I mean it.
I still want the best for Valencia; that will never change.
Nothing is going to happen. Not again.
“How do you know nothing will happen again?”
“Because I know what to do now to prevent it, but there’s one thing we can do right now.”
Slonne’s eyes brighten. “What is it?”
That’s my girl.
“I have a way to take away the monsters. Think you can help me?”
“Let’s do it!”
On the way out of my bedroom, I pick out the classic handbag shaped perfume bottle with a deep green python print and gold chain on the dresser. Decadence by Marc Jacobs. It’s one of Valencia’s signature scents, along with the floral vanilla one. But the Marc Jacobs is the only one she mistakenly left here. I guard it like a knight in the middle of a violent battle. Simply opening the lid gives off enough of a sophisticated, woody whiff that I become engulfed in her world.
Merciful Vows: A Bittersweet Second Chance Romantic Suspense (The Giannotti World Book 1) Page 5