Blue Collar Romeo

by Jenny Gardiner

  “Look, Gisele—” he said, furrowing his brow, trying to figure out how to explain away his perceived indifference to her, even as he wanted nothing more than to grab her hand again and not only kiss it, but lick it all the way up her arm, making a path toward her mouth.

  She shook her head. “It’s okay, Tomasso. You don’t owe me an explanation. The whole thing was sort of impulsive and strange anyhow, and honestly, I regretted it as much as you obviously did. Let’s leave it at that—no big deal. We’ll never see each other again, so it’s all good.”

  With that, she turned and slipped away into the throng, and he didn’t choose to pursue her. Sure, he felt bad about it, but he had to do what was right for him, even if it might be the worst decision he’d made in a long time.

  ~*~

  Despite a rough start with that regrettable Tomasso pretending he gave a care about her, Gisele had a lovely time at the dinner, laughing and chatting with several charming guests seated near her, including a count and a countess, a diplomatic attaché, and a woman who was in charge of the palace dogs, of all things.

  After dinner, she danced with more old men wearing sashes and medals than she ever thought she’d see in her life. It was a royalty thing, and she eventually started having sash envy. That and tiara envy. How fun would that be to sport some diamond-and-sapphire-encrusted tiara, looking like Audrey Hepburn? She decided next time she was heading to some dull fundraiser in Manhattan, she would find herself one to wear—at least there she’d not appear as a poseur with one crowning her head.

  At last she was ready to call it a night. Her feet hurt, her heart, or maybe just her feelings sort of ached a little, and she needed to be alone. As she started working her way through the large crowd, Tomasso approached her.

  “Can I have a word with you?” He reached for her elbow to stop her forward momentum.

  She glared at him. “Actually, I was just leaving.” She kept trying to maneuver away from him, but there seemed to be bodies blocking her way no matter which direction she went.

  “Gisele,” he said, pausing as if trying to figure out what he was going to say. “I wanted to apologize for any misunderstandings.”

  She arched a brow. “Trust me, there were no misunderstandings, Tomasso. I read you loud and clear. Now if you’ll let me get by—”

  “But—”

  Only she found a gap in the throng and quickly slipped away, leaving Tomasso to stare after her, his face a mask of frustration.

  ~*~

  Tomasso wasn’t used to being the bad guy and it didn’t sit well with him at all. He felt an urgent need to set things straight so that Gisele didn’t think badly of him. It seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.

  He decided the only way to achieve this would be to stop by her room on the way back to his own apartment, once back at the palace. He navigated his way down the tricky corridors of the palace until he came to apartment 11, and knocked gently.

  After a minute, Gisele opened the door and stood before him still in that seductive dress that made him want to bite down on his arm to avoid pulling at the thing to once again see her beautiful body on full display. Damn, he was a conflicted soul.

  She cocked her head sideways and crossed her arms, not even bothering to say anything to him.

  “Look, I owe you an explanation.” He leaned on the doorframe. “May I please come in?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But don’t plan on sticking around. Parker’s busy doing God knows what with your sister, but he’ll be back at some point and the last thing I need is for him to be under the deeply erroneous impression that you are anything to me. It’s one thing if he presumed that and he was right, but I’m not about to take heat from him for a big fat nothing.”

  Gisele motioned for Tomasso to enter, then closed the door behind him.

  He made the mistake of glancing at her breasts, on full display in that clingy gown. He took a deep breath.

  “So the thing is—” he turned his head away and looked down.

  She squinted at him. “Are you about to get sick or something?”

  He let out a laugh. “My God, no,” he said. “Anything but.” Lust sick might be more like it.

  She let out a big yawn, covering her mouth with her hand. “Then how about you cut to the chase. I’m pretty beat.”

  Crap. He’d made a mess of things here. He looked at her mouth, her soft pink lips, and he wanted nothing more than to place his own lips on them, close his eyes, and block out the rest of the world while he paced his breathing to hers and followed those animalistic cues that men and women do when they’re drawn to one another.

  “Can we sit down?”

  “I don’t see the point in that. Surely you can say what you need to say here.”

  He slipped his hand in hers and ushered her to the sofa. The same sofa that was the scene of their near coupling a few nights earlier. The same beautiful sofa on which... Forget it. He had to put what happened out of his mind. He needed to figure out what he should even say to her. He had no fucking clue at this point.

  “So the other night—”

  “Really, I’d just as soon not discuss that.”

  “But I owe you an explanation.”

  “Let’s pretend it didn’t happen and then you can leave and I’ll go to sleep and all will be right with the world.”

  “But see that’s not how it should be.” He turned toward her. “Please, won’t you sit?”

  “Fine. Whatever.” She shrugged and plunked herself down dramatically.

  He took a seat next to her, then turned to face her. “I’m truly sorry if I hurt your feelings, Gisele.”

  She frowned at him but said nothing.

  He continued. “I think you’re nice and interesting and fun and beautiful.”

  “Of course. That’s how it is with men like you. You’ll lie and say whatever you want to get what you want, and then—”

  He shook his head vigorously. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Trust me, it’s not the first time some guy has led me on to get down my pants, only to have a change of heart.” She stared off into the dark city outside. “Look, it was fun while it lasted. Believe me, I’m not going to suffer emotional trauma from this or anything.”

  But Tomasso had tuned her out, mesmerized with the subtle fringe of violet that ringed her blue irises and the rose hue of her full lips and that creamy white skin of her shoulders. What the hell was he thinking turning someone like this down?

  “The thing is, Gisele, I found you compelling from the moment I met you when you were trying to get my sister drunk so she’d spill her secrets about why she hated your brother. And then the other night, when you were interested in me, not who I was, well, that was quite a refreshing change from what I’m used to. And then God, when you kissed me—”

  “When I kissed you?” She raised her voice as she addressed him. “That’s some revisionist history, buster. That was all on you.”

  “Gah!” He threw his arms up in exasperation. “Try as I might, I can’t put this into words.”

  He leaned forward and put his hands on either side of her face, pulling her toward him.

  “I find you horribly irresistible,” he said as he settled his lips on hers. But she was having none of it and pursed her lips against his attempt at a kiss. He dragged his tongue along the seam of her mouth, determined to let her know that—like it or not—he was indeed attracted to her.

  “Well, I’m finding you entirely resistible.” She pushed him away.

  “Dammit, Gisele, I’m trying to tell you it’s not you, it’s me. If there weren’t all sorts of extenuating circumstances, I’d happily pursue whatever this crazy chemistry is between us.”

  “Trust me, the only chemistry between us is the kind where you mix two volatile elements together and it creates something smelly and toxic.”

  “I’d say it’s more like the sort of chemistry that creates fireworks that blaze a trail across the night sky.”

  �
�No, I’d suggest, say, an oxidation reaction that leads to rust. Or fermentation that leaves a sour aroma that lingers for hours. Like rancid sauerkraut.”

  He winced at being compared to fetid food. Rarely had his ego taken such a hit. “So enough with the chemistry allegory. Clearly that backfired.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, his fingers teasing the edge of her off-the-shoulder sleeves. “I’d love if you could give me a second chance. I was despondent watching you dance with all those men earlier tonight.”

  “Oh, you mean the octogenarian who could barely stand, the one who made me place my hands atop his on the walker for stability? Or perhaps the elderly gentleman with the ear horn? Who knew anyone still used them?” She grinned.

  He dragged the tip of his finger from the edge of her mouth upward, as if drawing a smile. “That’s what I like to see, that beautiful smile.”

  He pulled her toward him, again settling his lips on hers. This time she seemed more receptive.

  “Something about you makes me feel a little crazy,” he said, toying with her sleeves as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swirling around her still somewhat reluctant one. Slowly he slipped her sleeves down till her breasts were almost all the way out of her bodice. Tomasso groaned.

  His lifted his mouth, seeking the crest of her breasts with his hungry lips.

  “God, Gisele,” he said. “I shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t help myself.”

  She sat up, pushing him away. “What do you mean you shouldn’t be doing this? I thought this was some sort of apology tour, where you were coming groveling back to get into my good graces.”

  “Yes, I wanted to apologize,” he said, combing his fingers through his head, his stupid suddenly responsible brain having pinned down his irresponsible cock that had been steering the conversation for the past ten minutes. “I feel awful for how I’ve behaved.”

  “Yet you’re trying for a command performance as you pave the way to bail again. That is so uncool.”

  “Look, Gisele. It’s complicated. I can’t do relationships right now.”

  “Fine! Then don’t do relationships! But don’t try to woo me and come on to me like you’re on board with me, happy to get me naked so you can have your way, then backpedal yourself right out the door once you’re satisfied. Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I don’t, nor do I want to. I think it’s time you leave.”

  “But, but, but, I promise you—it’s nothing personal. I just can’t have that in my life right now. It was a moment of weakness. It’s hard to resist someone like you. I mean I like dogs a lot, too, but I can’t handle the burden of a dog in my life either.”

  Gisele’s eyes widened. “Woof,” she said, throwing him a deadpan look. “I never thought of myself as a burden before. Or a dog, for that matter. Thanks a ton for that. Oh, and PS: you’re lucky I don’t slap you right now, Tomasso Romeo.” She tugged up her sleeves and crossed her hands at her chest, assuring he had absolutely no parting view of her cleavage. “You know where the door is. Use it.”

  With that she stood and stormed off to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter Seven

  “So it’s been over a week since we’ve been back from Europe, and still you seem to have this edge about you,” Parker said to Gisele over beers at a new microbrewery on the Upper West Side. “What gives?”

  Gisele shook her head. “What do you mean, what gives?”

  Her brother shrugged. “Oh, I guess it’s because normally you’re bubbly and vivacious and cheerful and optimistic and since we’ve gotten back, you’ve been a bit grumpy and seem like you’re dragging your feet around like a sullen child.”

  She half laughed. “A sullen child? You’re going to pull that one out again?”

  After their mother died and Gisele had kind of shut down, mired in sadness, Parker invoked the “sullen child” accusation because, for some reason, it made her laugh. Perhaps because she was rarely if ever that sort of person growing up. Gisele was the little girl who would reach out to the lonely kid on the playground everyone else ignored. The one who brought a flower to her teacher because she knew it would make her smile. She made cupcakes for girlfriends when their boyfriends ditched them. Sullen wasn’t in her repertoire. Even now, really.

  “Honestly, Parker. I appreciate your concern, but there’s nothing wrong with me.”

  She failed to mention that there was plenty wrong with that chickenshit Tomasso guy, who was happy to light a fire under her but promptly extinguished it with his own pathetic protestations. So, yeah, she was still dwelling on that. It wasn’t fair and it made her angry and she felt like she didn’t get the final word, which bugged her. She wanted to tell him what she thought of his cowardly ways, but, well, she was a guest at that wedding and she had to keep her mouth shut in deference to her brother. Not like she even had a chance at the actual wedding. The man avoided her as if she would infect him with some sort of communicable disease if he came near her. Which was fine with her. She had a perfectly lovely time at the wedding without him. Besides, she didn’t want to give Parker any ammunition to use against her, and if he knew about the whole Tomasso mess, it would surely backfire and lead to all sorts of teasing and reminders of her embarrassing debacle. He was still giving her grief for meddling with Valentina. She’d rather keep it to herself and stew a bit longer.

  “Maybe it’s just the winter doldrums,” she said. “I mean, all that December snow was glorious and romantic in Monaforte, but now in January, it’s sort of dirty and slushy and makes you cold and wet and cranky.”

  “I guess that means you don’t want to go off on a ski holiday then?”

  She rolled her eyes. “About as much as I’d love to have voluntary dental surgery. Thanks, but no thanks. Wake me when spring gets here, would ya?” Normally she loved to ski, but she was kind of tired of feeling cold and dreary. “Now if you have any interest in a long weekend in the Caribbean, let me know. But meanwhile, what about you? You’ve been mooning about like an old, sad cow. Seems like absence from Valentina isn’t doing you any huge favors.” She swore he’d spent his waking hours FaceTiming with the woman.

  He sighed. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss her. Funny how you can know someone and never miss them. Then you happen upon them again and bam, you’re no longer yourself without them nearby.”

  “Ahh, love.” Gisele scrunched her nose. Love schmove. She didn’t have much interest in that sappy crapola.

  Parker wagged his finger at her. “You may mock me now, but in time you’ll find yourself feeling this way about someone.”

  She took a sip of her beer, then feigned filing her fingernails and yawning. “Yeah. Wake me when that happens.”

  “Such a cynic you’ve become.” He sliced some cheese from the charcuterie platter they’d ordered, stacking it with a piece of prosciutto onto a slice of baguette. “When did my baby sister become so jaded?”

  She sighed. “I’m not jaded. I’m simply not in the mood for a man.”

  “I’m sorry,” Parker said. “Obviously something happened to sour you. Here’s hoping someone even better will come along to sweeten you back up.” He tipped his mug of beer to hers, then gently squeezed her cheek affectionately.

  She’d successfully dodged discussing whatever did—or didn’t—happen with Tomasso in the early predawn hours before the wedding. She was being the good girl by playing it straight, not letting on about how annoyed she was with Tomasso and instead remaining coy. But now that the royal wedding was over and done, he was out of her mind for good. Arrivederci, sucker. She’d officially washed her hands of Tomasso once and for all.

  ~*~

  Tomasso couldn’t stop thinking about what a complete idiot he’d been with Gisele that night at the palace. It was bad enough he’d gone back groveling, only to get a bad case of the guilts in the middle of it all and essentially withdrawing his overtures. What a dunce. But then to linger in her apartment, hoping sh
e’d reconsider and open her locked door, come out to the living room and discuss things like two sane adults? That was nothing short of nuts.

  Clearly she was the sane one and he was crazy as a loon. Because then he went and nodded off on the sofa, falling asleep until near dawn. As he snuck out of her apartment, who did he run into yet again but Parker, also trying to feign innocence. Yeesh. He only hoped Parker didn’t recount to Gisele what had occurred between them because he had no doubt Gisele would show up at his door and smack him one. She had a little feistiness to her, which meant that would be entirely unsurprising behavior. He was banking on Parker not wanting to let Gisele know he had been out until dawn.

  Since returning home to Italy before leaving for his upcoming apprenticeship in the States, he’d tried to get Gisele out of his head, but with little success. Instead he moped around the palace like a pouty child, lamenting the mistakes he’d made. His sister was getting wise to him.

  “Honestly, Tomasso, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were pining away for a girl, the way you’re grumping around this place. You even yelled at Allegra this morning. That’s not like you,” Valentina said as she sliced open a cornetto at the breakfast table and spread marmalade on it.

  “You yelled at Allegra?” his older brother Lorenzo said. “What the hell? That’s like beating up your grandmother.”

  Allegra had been like a nanny to the Romeo children, and although they were grown up now, she lived with the family and helped out as needed, serving breakfast and cooking many of the large family meals.

  Tomasso held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t yell at her. I asked her strongly where the hell was my espresso.”