Turning the Tables

by Joan Kilby

  “Three girls. Your poor brother.”

  “With Giorgio’s wife Layla, we feel as if we have a fourth sister. But he knows we all adore him. Believe me, he can take care of himself.”

  “Do you get lonely in New York?”

  “I miss my family, but I haven’t had time to be lonely.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “I’ve had you.”

  For as long as it lasts. The unspoken thought hung in the air between them. Luke put his wineglass down and drew her into his arms. He kissed the spots of flour on her nose and cheek and tucked back the lock of hair falling out of the knot she’d pinned to the top of her head. He hadn’t intended to get busy right away, but she felt so good and her mouth was warm and welcoming, familiar yet still excitingly new. He started to unbutton her jeans.

  “I thought you wanted an evening that wasn’t just about sex,” she murmured between kisses.

  “When I get near you, my body has other ideas. Seeing you in my kitchen, making me a meal…it’s very sexy.”

  “Everything is sexy to you! I have to finish cooking. Never come between an Italian and food.” She softened her scolding with a smile. “Can you can set the table?”

  “Sure.” Luke carried pasta bowls and cutlery into the dining area. In the kitchen, Tina moved from sink to stove, her thick black hair misting from the steam of the pots. He admired her competence and independence, but he also appreciated this glimpse of her nurturing side. He couldn’t recall the last time a woman had cooked a meal from scratch for him.

  He hated that she’d been hurt by some asshole. Every time he remembered the vulnerability in her eyes that first day when she’d asked him if he thought she was attractive he wanted to hit something. How was it even possible for her to doubt that? He wished he could take care of her so she didn’t have to work such long hours. Lavish on her the finer things in life she appreciated but mostly couldn’t afford.

  He put on soft music and dimmed the lights. Tina carried the food to the table and dished him a plate of simple but delectable pasta.

  “You’re an awesome cook.” He wound the al dente strands onto his fork along with cheesy sauce flecked with herbs. “Your ex-fiancé’s loss is my gain.”

  She tensed, her fork pausing mid-air. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories, only to compliment your cooking.” He had to admit though, he was curious about her ex. Had he put her off relationships completely? “Are you only interested in flings? Do you ever intend to marry?”

  A hint of humor glinted in her large amber eyes. “Are you proposing?”

  “Would you say yes?” he teased back, wondering at himself for pursuing this line of conversation. Sure, one day he would marry and have a bunch of kids, but for now he enjoyed his bachelor freedom.

  Her reply was nothing if not oblique. “You’re still a celebrity even though you don’t play hockey anymore. That lifestyle can be difficult. Dealing with the paparazzi, the intrusions into your private life, not knowing who to trust… ”

  “It has its perks. When you love what you do, you put up with it.”

  “Sì, but there’s always a price to pay.”

  The bitterness in her voice surprised him. Had her ex been a man with a high profile for whom the demands of his lifestyle meant the relationship was always relegated to the background? Impulsively he laid a hand over Tina’s. “But you’re down-to-earth. The real deal. I love that about you.”

  Shadows clouded her expressive eyes, and she dropped her gaze. “You don’t really know me that well.”

  “I would like to.” He leaned forward, gripping her hand tighter. “Have you considered staying in New York and working full time at the boutique? I bet they’d have you in a flash.”

  “You don’t know the situation. It’s not that easy.”

  “But wouldn’t you like to? A new store would be bound to have opportunities for career growth. With your smarts you’d advance quickly.” He winked. “Think of all the role playing fantasies we could explore.”

  “It’s not possible.” She got up and carried the empty plates to the kitchen, signaling the conversation was over.

  Undeterred, Luke followed her. He touched her chin and turned her face to his. “What did he do to you that makes you so afraid you can’t even tell me your last name or where you live? I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She searched his face as if looking for a guarantee. “I thought he loved me. Turned out he was only using me. I couldn’t believe I was fooled so completely. Love made me blind, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  Was she telling him not to expect anything from her? She’d made it clear from the beginning their affair was only temporary. He’d been down with that. And yet, to hear her say “never” as she looked at him set off a dull ache in his chest. Which was dumb. His team and his family provided all the warm fuzzies he needed.

  But it would be a tragedy if a woman as warm and loving as Tina, a woman to whom family was so important, never found the love she deserved.

  “Never say never.” He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. If they couldn’t have love, they could at least give each other comfort. “Enough talking for one night.”

  The kiss tasted bittersweet, full of the longing and yearning neither of them could repress. That their time together was limited made it all the more precious. The thought of letting her go, it opened up something inside his chest.

  He loved her.

  Luke hadn’t meant to fall in love, and yet now that it was happening he was powerless to stop himself. The epiphany wasn’t earth shattering or even much of a surprise. The signs were there all along. His intense attraction to her, the way he thought about her all the time, the way she made him laugh, the powerful feelings of protectiveness she inspired in him…

  When he took her to bed, there was no role-playing. Even though she hadn’t told him much more about herself than he knew before, the way she kissed him so sweetly and so urgently was genuine. Tenderly, he removed her clothing, piece by piece, taking time to kiss and caress each newly exposed part of her body, as if to show how much he valued her. Cherished her. Loved her. She did the same for him until they were both stripped naked in the near dark.

  He lay side by side with her, gazing into her face. Touching her smooth skin, his fingertips trailing a long, curving path from cheek to collarbone, from breast to smooth belly, brushing the long muscle of her thigh to find the tender skin behind her knee. He’d never known anyone to be so perfect.

  They didn’t speak a word. Instead they communicated with their eyes and their hands, their lips and tongues. The slide of hips between parting thighs, and mouths entangling. He entered her slowly, hyper-aware of every flutter of her eyelashes, every beat of her heart, every pulse of her blood beneath her skin. She came moments before he did, just enough time for him to experience her bliss before he imploded.

  Tonight she made no objection to staying, just snuggled under the covers and folded herself around him, her soft breath fanning the hairs on his chest. Luke stared up through the skylight at the stars peeking through shifting clouds and held her. Today and tonight, had been different. The thing was, he didn’t know if it marked the beginning of something new—or the end of their affair. Had he convinced her that love was worth taking a risk for? Or was she saying good-bye in her own sweet way?

  As usual he had more questions than she had answers. But this was the most perfect night together so far. If it was the beginning of the end, he didn’t want to spoil it.

  Luke gathered her closer, his chest aching and filled with turmoil. If only they could stay this way forever, holding each other close, safe from the intrusions of real life. Not just for a week but for years and decades, for all of their lives.

  Chapter Ten

  Tina drowsily opened her eyes and stretched luxuriously. She’d had such a good sleep, the most rest she’d had since coming to New York. Early morning light filtered through s
late blue blinds. She reached for Luke. But his side of the bed was empty. She sat up and looked around. There was a note on his pillow.

  Gone to pick us up some breakfast. Back soon.

  She flopped back down with a dreamy sigh. Last night had been beautiful. Cooking for him, eating their simple dinner together, hearing about his family and his past hockey triumphs. His story about his mother touched her deeply. Her heart ached for both mother and son, and for the whole family. But she admired Luke all the more that he’d overcome personal disappointments and the loss of his career and poured all his energies into building something that mattered for kids who had so little. That was the mark of a really special man.

  Their love-making had been profound and moving, a true emotional connection far more satisfying than role-playing. To have both with one man seemed a miracle. She was falling in love with him. Perhaps she was already there. Never say never. He’d been right, and sooner than she could have imagined.

  He’d said he only wanted a fling, but she didn’t believe it. Not after last night. Maybe it was too early to talk about a lasting relationship, but that’s where they were headed.

  A horn blared outside on the street, startling her out of her rose-tinted dream. There would be no such thing as a lasting relationship while she was lying to him. She needed to tell him the truth about who she was. But how could she, after what he’d said about his mother and how he felt about people who lied? He would be furious. If he couldn’t even forgive his own mother how would he ever forgive her?

  Anxiety tightened her chest, and she rolled over, twisting the sheets around her. She had to get through the fashion show. After the boutique’s opening day, it was the biggest event on her agenda during her trip to New York. It was why she was here. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that. If she failed in launching the House of Borlenghi in America after all the hard work to convince Giorgio to let her and her sisters run their own businesses, she’d be in the same boat as Angela, struggling to prove herself. She’d come too far to let that happen.

  She glanced at the bedside clock. Nine-thirty a.m. Madre Mia! She was supposed to be at the dress rehearsal for tonight’s fashion show half an hour ago. Throwing back the covers she bounded out of bed, reaching for her clothes. She couldn’t leave until Luke came back but there would be no time for breakfast. Hopefully he would understand.

  …

  Luke whistled as he strode down the street to his favorite deli to pick up coffee and bagels, weaving effortlessly through pedestrians hurrying to work and tourists out bright and early for sightseeing. Cars and trucks clogged the street, taxis nosed their way through, buses rumbled past. He smiled at a little boy tugging on his mother’s sleeve. All the colors seemed brighter this morning, the sky bluer, the leaves on the trees surrounded by little iron picket fences, greener. He could even hear a bird twittering somewhere.

  He pushed through the glass doors and stood in line at the bakery counter. He’d just placed his order when an extra-long honk made him glance out the window. A bus had just pulled into the bus stop out front. Whatever traffic snarl had caused the honk was instantly forgotten when he got a look at the ad on the side of the bus. What the fuck?

  Larger than life was a photo of Tina, all wide, white smile and wavy dark hair, wearing a spangly red evening gown, lying on her back with one high-heeled foot kicking in the air. The caption read, House of Borlenghi. Veni, Vidi, Vici.

  The buxom forty-something woman in a floral smock behind the counter plunked down his paper sack and carryout tray of coffee. “That’ll be twelve-fifty.” Then she noticed him staring at the bus. “That’s the owner of the latest It boutique. She’s pretty hot stuff, huh?”

  “The owner?” Luke blinked stupidly. The bus doors closed on new passengers and with a belch of black diesel smoke, pulled back into traffic.

  “Yeah. I heard her talking on the radio the other morning. Italian dame. Betty Borlenghi.” The woman frowned and blew back wispy brown bangs with a huff of breath. “Somethin’ like that. Betty doesn’t sound Italian, does it?” She shrugged it off. “Did you want somethin’ else, mister?”

  “No, thanks.” Luke handed over a ten and a five. “Keep the change.”

  Back on the sidewalk he stared after the bus slowly inching through morning rush hour. Betty? Maybe the woman in the deli had the name wrong but there was no doubt the face on the bus advertisement was Tina’s. Salesgirl, my ass. She was the goddamn owner of the boutique.

  Veni, vidi, vici. He might not speak Italian, but he knew that Latin phrase. I came, I saw, I conquered.

  She’d done that all right. She’d sure had him going—up, down and sideways. All the while she’d had him thinking she was a sales assistant. Had she been laughing at him? Did it amuse her to fool a man so completely?

  And how about her tale of woe about being used by her ex-fiancé? Luke felt pretty used himself. Acid churned in his stomach and burned the back of his throat. Had she ever planned to tell him the truth? What did he really know about her? As he’d told Allan, he only had a handful of facts. How many of those were actually true? Did she have a brother who’d died? Did she have more siblings? Did she even live in Italy? He didn’t know what to believe about her anymore.

  A passerby jostled him, and he shook his head, coming back to the busy sidewalk. Mechanically, he retraced his path back to his apartment half a block away. With every step the hard knot in his gut twisted tighter. Why hadn’t she wanted him to know who she was? She must think he was good enough to screw but not good enough to be part of her real life.

  As she’d said herself, she was here for a good time, not a long time.

  He tucked the sack of bagels under his arm and, juggling the coffee tray, pulled out his phone and Googled the House of Borlenghi with his free hand. The New York boutique was only the latest expansion of the Italian fashion empire founded by Bettina—Tina—Borlenghi. There was a photo of her wearing a power suit with her hair tamed into a sleek ponytail, in a group with other bigwigs of the European fashion scene. Clicking a few more links took him to the parent company, the Borlenghi Group. It was in the Fortune Five Hundred and had thousands of branches and subsidiaries all over the world.

  Fuck me dead. Luke walked on, dazed. He might be good at getting a woman to take off her clothes, but when it came to the fashion world, he was clueless. No doubt she’d counted on his ignorance to get away with her deception. His fist tightened around his phone as he thought back to the first day. I’ll be anything you want me to be. Had she been playing him all this time? Stringing him along, thinking what a fool he was for believing that one of the richest women in the world was a salesgirl? Well, what else was he supposed to think when she was dressing a mannequin? Who did that when they had literally thousands of employees to call upon?

  His phone rang. His heart began to race thinking it might be her. But it was Allan. “Hey, bro.” He couldn’t hide the tremor of outrage in his voice.

  “What’s up? Are you all right?” Allan asked. “You sound strange.”

  “I…” Shit. He needed to have this out with Tina before he went spilling it all over town. On the other hand, before he went batshit crazy at her maybe he should have someone talk him down from the ledge. “I just found out Tina’s last name. Borlenghi. I saw her face on a fucking bus.”

  Not just her face, her whole luscious body. Was that part of what rankled? Here he’d thought he had his own sweet salesgirl all to himself. Now he found out she belonged to the world.

  “Holy shit,” Allan said. From his tone Luke surmised he must already be Googling her. “So all this time she’s secretly been a billionaire heiress. Have you seen the family yacht in Naples? This is awesome, dude.”

  Yacht. Of course. Not a yak or a yurt or a yellow submarine. Was he dumb or what?

  Awesome? “Are you kidding me? She lied, man. Lied straight to my face.” A thousand painful memories from his childhood surged forth, made him jerk his hand and spill coffee down his pants. Disg
usted, he tossed the whole tray, cups and all, into a nearby trash can. “Have you forgotten what my family went through with my mother?”

  “Right, of course.” Allan immediately sobered. “Yeah, Tina did kind of screw you around, didn’t she? Why did she do that?”

  “I don’t have a clue. I’d better go. She’s at my apartment, and I’m bringing back fucking bagels for breakfast in bed.” His stomach hurt all over again at the thought of the scene to come.

  …

  Tina paced the kitchen. She’d already texted Frank to pick her up, now she was texting Charmaine to let her know she would be late. She had her shoes on and her handbag slung over her shoulder.

  Charmaine’s reply pinged back seconds later. Big glitch! Venue double booked. Could lose out to Donna Karan. Lincoln Center manager insists on talking to you!!

  No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. Where was Luke? She had to leave right now. She opened the door and glanced down the hall toward the elevator. She went back inside and paced some more. Sent another text to Charmaine asking her to get the manager to call her.

  Luke’s key turned in the lock. He entered, scowling. A huge coffee stain extended from his thigh below his knee.

  “There you are,” Tina cried. “Thank God. I’m so sorry. I have to go. I’m late.”

  “So what else is new?” There was an uncharacteristic coldness in his voice. He tossed down the paper bag in his hand so hard it slid across the marble counter and fell on the floor.

  Tina put a hand to her gold necklace. The deep freeze permeated his eyes, too. Something was dreadfully wrong. Then she realized the truth evident in every cold hard line of his face and body. He knew. Somehow, in the half hour he’d been gone, he’d found out her identity. Her instinctive reaction was to go into denial. “W-what is it, Luke? What’s wrong?”