by J. S. Scott
“The evening has merely taken an unexpected turn. Please make my apologies to the chef.”
With that, he walked out of the restaurant with Julia’s purse in his hand, not caring that the gossip rags would be abuzz with the story the next day. Right then, all he cared about was finding Julia.
They met on the street. She was headed back toward the restaurant. She walked up to him, gloriously decked out in her tight black dress and high heels. Her blue eyes were shooting daggers at him, and she’d never looked more beautiful to him. She stopped right in front of him and wordlessly held out her hand for her purse.
He didn’t move to give it to her. Instead, he motioned for his driver to pull the town car around. “I chose the restaurant poorly.”
Julia stubbornly folded her arms in front of her. “Yes, you did.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Julia. If you’re confused, know that I share the feeling.”
Relaxing somewhat, Julia looked away and then back at him, emotions darkening her eyes. “Money doesn’t give you the right to treat people the way you do.”
“It was not my intention to offend you.” He handed her the purse.
She took it and hugged it to her stomach. “My mother didn’t marry a man because she wanted something from him. She fell in love with my father and they built something together. You asked me why I came to New York and I started to tell you. But it’s not only the money I’m looking for. I’ve spent my life very comfortably, being like my father. Joyfully lost in my art. No real responsibilities or worries. I see now how much my mother sheltered us.”
Gio’s heart started thudding painfully in his chest when Julia’s eyes misted with tears. He was a man who took action, but in that moment he didn’t know what to do.
“My mother is the strongest woman I know. I have to have that strength somewhere in me. I have to. If I can find it—I know I’ll figure the rest out. Maybe I’ll sell my jewelry to a chain, or I’ll meet someone who is looking for a houseful of my dad’s furniture. I don’t know. But I do know what you’re offering me is not what I’m looking for. I live where I can afford it. I work a job that allows me to network during the day, and hopefully I’ll make connections that will lead to a solution. Not the solution you offered—but one I can live with.” She looked down at the gown she was wearing. “I knew I had made a mistake when I left the store with this dress. I shouldn’t have come here. This whole night was my fault. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
Jaw tight, Gio said, “I don’t believe in love. Not the selfless kind you’re describing.” He reached forward and with his thumb brushed away the tear that ran down her cheek. “Don’t cry, Julia.”
She couldn’t help it. When it came to Gio, her emotions were raw and exposed.
“I’ve been selfish,” he said. “I keep trying to make you into someone who’ll fit into my life. I wish I had more to offer you, but I don’t. I’m not looking for marriage. I don’t want children. I’ve become so obsessed with getting into your bed that I told myself it doesn’t matter. But it does matter—to you.”
She smiled sadly. “I’m sorry.”
He cupped her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly over her lips. “It’s not going to be easy knowing that you’re downstairs.”
She covered his hand with hers, then moved away from him. “It’s not easy to say no.”
“Get in the car,” he said briskly.
“I meant what I said,” she said urgently.
“My driver will take you home. I’m going to walk. I could use the fresh air.”
She studied his expression intently, then nodded and stepped into the door the driver held open for her.
In the quickly cooling New York night, Gio walked the ten blocks back to his office building. He needed to clear his head with work.
Chapter Thirteen
A few days later, Gio was at his desk reading over proposals on a possible new shale find in South America. The local governments were still discussing the feasibility of reaching it. The time was right to pick a horse in that race and invest. He would have preferred to finish one project before investing in another, but opportunities didn’t wait until the timing was convenient. They arrived like a flash of lightning and left just as quickly.
He’d grown his family’s company by knowing where these strikes would happen and being ready to harness their power when they did. Often, he was in and out of an area before his competition knew a door had opened.
He was decisive because hesitations cost money.
A knock on the door was instantly followed by its swinging open without waiting for his response. This ends now. Gio stood and roared his displeasure. “I said I was not to be disturbed.”
“No wonder Rena called me. You look like shit.” Rena’s older brother, Kane, one of Gio’s closest friends, walked in, completely unfettered by the greeting he’d received.
“Thanks. Don’t you have a job for her at your company yet?” Still not smiling, he crossed the room to shake his friend’s hand.
Although Kane now wore expensive suits and styled his hair conservatively, Gio would forever see his friend as he’d looked in college: unruly hair, defiantly spiked in front long before that was the fashion. Kane came from first-generation money, which brought its own challenges. Such children often struggled with addictions and excess. Luckily Kane and Rena’s parents had instilled a good work ethic in both of them. “She’s happy here,” Kane said after shaking his hand. He gave his friend a long once-over. “When you’re not yelling at her. She says you’re having a rough week.”
“She needs to learn to mind her own business.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Kane walked in and sat in Gio’s chair, leaning back far enough that Gio was convinced the former quarterback would break it.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Gio said in a harsh tone. Kane smiled. They were close like brothers, and apparently that relationship had given Kane immunity to a tone that would have intimidated other men.
“I also spoke to Luke. He said he’s worried about you. Rena is worried about you. After the article I read in the paper the other day, I’ll admit I’m a little concerned myself. The photo of you at Le Loire with that woman in a black dress preparing to give you the Heimlich maneuver was classic, but I think I preferred the one with you chasing her out the door with her purse.”
Rubbing his tired eyes with both hands, Gio groaned. “I completely forgot to call anyone about those. Shit.”
Sounding much too amused, Kane said, “The Internet is on fire with an article about it. ‘Billionaire Bachelor With a Sensitive Side.’ Rena said they have photos of you outside the restaurant caressing her face and looking longingly into her eyes. You’ve got it pretty bad for this one. Who is she?”
Gio turned away from his friend and looked out the window in frustration. “No one important.”
Kane left the chair, and his tone turned serious. “I get it. You haven’t been yourself since you came back from that engagement party with your uncles. If you’re using this woman to cheer yourself up, fine. I just want to make sure she’s not a symptom of something else going on that you’re not sharing with anyone.”
“If I had anything I wanted to talk to you about, I have your number.”
“You say that, but looking at you, I don’t believe it.”
“Kane, I’ll say this as kindly as I can. Go get a testosterone shot. You spend way too much time with your sister. You’re beginning to sound like her.”
“Sometimes she’s right. Rena says this mystery woman works here. That’s not your style.”
If the conversation had been with anyone but Kane, it would have ended right now. Kane had been a good friend to him for too many years to take out his frustration on him. He closed his eyes for a moment, finding the calm he sought by shutting down inside. He opened his eyes, once again in control, and forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
The joke removed the tension between
them, but Kane still looked concerned. “I don’t believe you. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to come back later and get you drunk? Midday tequila shots are no longer my style, but you look like you could use a few.”
There wasn’t a doubt in Gio’s mind that Kane would return if he wasn’t satisfied with how the conversation went, so Gio ground out, “What do you know, Kane?”
“Are you okay?”
Running his hand through his hair, Gio admitted the truth. “No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sleeping. I’m not eating. I can’t concentrate. There’s something wrong with me.”
“Maybe you’re in love.”
“Don’t be a fucking idiot. I’m serious. I could have a brain tumor.”
“I’ll have to ask Luke, but I’ve never heard of a tumor causing a man to chase after a woman while clutching her purse. It is an illness, though. And, I hear, a degenerative one. Next you’ll be buying her tampons.”
Gio pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. “I’m trying remember why we’re friends, but right now it’s difficult.”
“Are you even dating this woman?”
“No.”
“Screwing her?”
“No. I told you. She’s nothing to me.”
Shaking his head with humor, Kane said, “I wish I could help you, Gio, but you’re already too far gone. What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. I considered her an option for something more, but it wasn’t worth the trouble. You know how I feel about anything serious.”
“You’re such a pussy,” Kane said.
“Excuse me?” Gio roared.
“You heard me. Rena says this is the type of woman a man marries. She said you’re shaking in your shoes at the idea, and I think she’s right. If you like this woman, date her. Don’t hide in your office pretending that facial hair looks good on you.”
“It’s not that easy,” Gio growled. Even the thought of Julia brought a swell of emotion to the surface—one that he fought to control. “I don’t like who I am around her. I’m jealous. I’m impulsive. I say stupid shit.”
Kane smiled sympathetically. “It eventually happens to all of us. That’s nature’s way of ensuring we perpetuate our species—by making some of them so fucking irresistible that we lose our minds.” He looked down at his watch. “I have a meeting across town in a few minutes. I should head out.” He gave Gio a pat on the back. “You’ll survive this, Gio. Hang in there. At least it’s not a brain tumor.”
After Kane left, Gio sat at his desk and thought about what he’d said. Although he disagreed with the diagnosis his friend had given him, some of his advice had merit. If this were a business deal, nothing would stop him from closing on it.
It was only in his personal life that he held himself back. Deny. Control. Remember your duty. Keep emotions in check. Do nothing that risks the stability of the family or the company.
Julia endangered all that.
Around her, he didn’t care about anything else.
And Rena was right: That had him shaking in his black Bruno Magli shoes.
“Rena, is Julia on tonight?”
“No, she called in sick.”
His stomach flipped painfully. “Clear my schedule for today.”
“Of course.”
He didn’t give himself time to second-guess his decision. He removed his tie and jacket and threw them on the chair before heading out of his office. As he walked by Rena’s desk, he growled, “I’m not happy with you.”
She smiled back at him. “I can live with that. Now go see what’s wrong with Julia. I have a feeling it’s the same thing that ails you.”
* * *
Still in her nightgown, with her hair sticking up wildly in all directions, Julia sat in the middle of her bed, hugging her knees. I should throw the roses away. Keeping them is a constant reminder of the fool I made of myself.
Gio hadn’t called.
Not that I expected him to after how our date ended.
What did I think would happen? That we’d discover we had more in common than bits and pieces that are hot for each other? Was I expecting to wow him with witty dialogue? Floor him with my sophisticated banter?
That a bad decision could lead to something wonderful?
I’m such an idiot.
He has been honest about what he wants. I’m the one who keeps wavering and driving us both crazy. What did Mom used to say? “If you plant a potato, you get a potato.” Julia used to roll her eyes at her mother whenever she’d say it. It was another way of saying, “If you go looking for trouble, you’ll find it.”
Or, if you date a man who says he’s willing to pay you for sex—you end up feeling like a woman who was offered money for sex. Even if he wrapped the offer in a cushion of a thousand roses.
Or worse, you regret not saying yes, even though you hate yourself for wanting him enough to consider shelving your self-respect and giving in.
I can’t keep calling in sick to Cogent.
But I can’t watch him walk by me like I don’t matter.
I’ll quit tomorrow. Then I’ll pick myself up, write a new résumé, find another night job, and get back out there. It’ll be okay. This doesn’t change anything.
She flipped on the television and searched until she found a sappy movie she knew would have her in tears. I’ll be strong again tomorrow. Right now, I’m going to let myself wallow.
She reached for a box of tissues and lost herself in a story she’d watched a hundred times before, sobbing through scenes she knew well enough to mouth the words to, and hugged her pillow to her stomach as the heroine came to the same conclusion she had: Men suck.
A knock on her apartment door echoed through the room. She didn’t have many friends in the city and most of them worked during the day. She knelt on her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Yesterday’s mascara was smudged beneath two bloodshot eyes. Her nose was red and puffy from crying. She scrambled to pick up the tissues that were scattered across her bed. “Who is it?” she called out.
The answer was concealed by the noise of the television. She turned it off and mentally smacked herself for saying anything. I should have pretended I wasn’t here. My television was on, though. So what? People leave them on all the time.
Hastily wiping off any makeup she could, she put a bathrobe on over her nightgown and went onto her tiptoes to peer out the peephole.
Paul.
She turned and slumped against the door in relief, even as she tried to deny a wave of disappointment that it wasn’t Gio. He’s not coming. Accept it.
Julia unlocked the door and opened it, smiling when Paul held up a bag from the neighborhood deli. He was dressed in jeans a tight T-shirt that accentuated his enormous muscles. The sight should have been pleasurable, but seeing Paul only reminded Julia of how Gio had looked the first time she’d seen him. Stop it. She chastised herself for torturing herself with an image of someone she had no intention of ever seeing again.
Paul whistled appreciatively at the number of flowers that still filled every corner of the floor. Then he handed Julia the paper bag. “When you called in again, Tom and I started to worry. He asked me to come check on you. You look awful. Are you fighting what we had? Do you want me to run to the pharmacy?”
A quick peek into the bag revealed soup. “No, I’m fine,” she said and burst into tears. Soup reminded her of how her mother had always taken care of her. Thinking of her mother made her feel even worse about moping over problems that were trivial by comparison. She wanted to call her mother to talk about Gio but knew she couldn’t. She wanted to call Gio to talk about her mother, but that door was also closed. She suddenly felt very alone.
“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry. I handle throwup much better than tears.”
His comment made Julia laugh, even as tears continued running down her cheeks. “I’m not sick.”
He reached out and drew her into his arms. His embrace nearly cut off her oxygen. �
��Come here.” He hugged her tighter. “Is this about You Know Who?”
Julia sniffed and nodded, finding comfort in the warmth of her hulking friend’s arms. “I know he is wrong for me, but I can’t seem to control myself when I’m around him. It’s like my brain shuts off. I’m quitting Cogent tomorrow, Paul. I hope it doesn’t leave you guys short staffed. I can’t go back there.”
Paul set her back from him. “Hang on. I care, but I have to stop hugging you before I get a stiffie.”
Julia’s eyes widened and she burst out laughing, imagining what Tom would say if he were there. “Paul . . .”
He smiled unabashedly. “Hey, I’m human. Would you rather I tell you or let you feel it?”
A wave of laughter erupted from her, then quelled as a thought came to her. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Are you sure you need to quit?”
“Yes.”
“Did he hurt you?” Paul puffed up like a rooster preparing to defend one of his hens.
From behind Paul, through the still-open door, Gio’s voice carried a deadly cold tone. “Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.”
Initial embarrassment was replaced with anger. I have nothing to feel embarrassed about. “What are you doing here?”
Gio stepped into the small apartment, which suddenly felt claustrophobically small with the two large men circling each other. “The better question is, what is he doing here?”
Raising her chin defiantly, Julia said, “You don’t have the right to ask.”
Gio’s eyes narrowed and his attention focused on Paul. “Don’t you work for me?”
“Not until five o’clock,” Paul answered in a tone that goaded Gio.
As the two of them squared off, Julia snapped, “He came by to make sure I was okay. Not that I owe you an explanation. You and I said everything we needed to say the other night.”
Looking away from Julia to Paul, Gio said, “I refuse to discuss this in front of him.”
Paul planted his feet. “I’m not leaving unless she tells me to go.”
Although Julia appreciated the sentiment, she didn’t want them both to lose their jobs because she’d sent Gio mixed messages. “I’m fine, Paul. Go. We’ll talk later.”