Blue Collar Romeo

by Jenny Gardiner

  He didn’t even bother to turn on the lights when he got inside. Exhausted, he opted not to explore the place—he’d save that for daylight. Parker told him he could occupy the master suite at the very top of the first flight of steps, and with a suitcase in each hand and a laptop bag slung over his shoulders, he trudged up the steps and entered the bedroom that would be his for the next few months.

  He was too tired to even bother brushing his teeth. Instead he stripped down to his boxer briefs, tossing his clothes on a nearby chair, buried himself beneath the covers, and promptly passed out. For all of about four hours, curse that jetlag. He felt as if he’d barely slept a wink before he was wide awake, staring at the ceiling, yearning to drift back into a state of stupor. He tried to persuade his brain that he was indeed tired, to no avail. After tossing and turning for an hour, he finally he got up, splashed some cold water on his face, gave his teeth a good scrubbing, and decided to explore the place. He tucked his laptop beneath his arm as he opened his bedroom door, only to crash into something, or someone, causing him to scream out loud.

  ~*~

  Gisele’s alarm went off earlier than usual. She had to be in the studio by seven for a celebrity interview her boss was producing. With last night’s snow, she knew it would take even longer to actually get to the office, so she’d set the alarm for forty-five minutes early. These dark, wintry days made it that much harder to wake up. With Parker gone and no one to share breakfast with, she was tired and cranky and alone, even though he’d only left a day ago.

  She wasn’t sure when the Royal Jerk—ha-ha, he was part royalty, and that did make him a royal sort of jerk, didn’t it?—was supposed to arrive. At least Parker would give her advance notice prior to Tomasso’s arrival, she figured. So she could leave town. Or barricade the door shut. Or put fire ants in his bed.

  Until then, it would be only her, besides the occasional visit from their housekeeper Rosa, who’d been with the Hornsby family since Gisele was a small child. Thank goodness for Rosa—while she could never replace her own mom, she was practically a second mother to Gisele and Parker, and Gisele would be especially grateful for Rosa’s presence now that Parker had flown the coop.

  She’d scrambled to get ready, throwing on a pair of black jeans and gray cashmere cable-knit sweater. She grabbed a scarf and draped it around her neck, rearranging it six times until it finally looked right. What was it about those damned scarves? You could never make them look normal the way they always looked in fashion magazines. She blamed the Italians, who were so effortlessly fashionable they made everyone else look bad.

  Of course, she blamed the Italians because of the only Italian she actively loathed. The whole damned country would have to take the heat because of him. Gisele swiped on her favorite pinkish-nude lip gloss, slipped on a pair of grungy cowboy boots that she didn’t mind mucking up in the snow, grabbed her purse, and flicked off her bedroom light before stepping out into the hallway. She hated even walking past Parker’s room, what with it empty now. At least until the Royal Pain arrived, at which point she’d have to figure out how to get downstairs without passing by that bedroom door. Perhaps she could jump out her bedroom window.

  “Ugh,” she said out loud, lost in thought, dreading his arrival, right as she crashed head-on into a tall, warm, nearly naked body in front of that very door.

  “Ack!” she said as she threw her purse down and lifted her arms up, ready to hit whoever it was. As if that was going to help with a naked intruder.

  “Gah!” said a man’s voice as the body attached to it pushed back against her after her sticky lips collided with his chest.

  Gisele’s heart raced. Holy shit. There was a stranger in her house and she didn’t even know what to do. Maybe Parker was right about her needing protection from intruders. Even if it meant having that Rotten Romeo guy living under the roof. But too late—here was this person, and he wasn’t even dressed, and she didn’t even have the putative protection of the Toad from Tuscany yet.

  She didn’t know quite what to do, so on impulse, she screamed, karate chopped the man across the chest, then grabbed his forearm and bit down hard.

  “Ouch! Goddammit!” He flicked on a nearby switch, bathing the scene in light, then stood, staring at the culprit. “What the hell? Gisele? What are you doing in your brother’s house?”

  “My brother’s house?” she said as she spat his arm out of her mouth, wiping her tongue on her sleeve as if she’d had contact with the cooties. “This is my place, buster. And what are you doing here? You didn’t even have the decency to let me know when you’d be showing up? Instead you decide to scare the crap out of me in the middle of the night?”

  Tomasso shook his arm, attempting to mitigate the pain from what she figured was the now-throbbing bite on his forearm. Served him right. “Crap, you’ve got sharp teeth. Are you a vampire on the side or something?”

  She glared at him. “You’d be lucky if I was.” She circled him like a predator finishing off the kill. “At least then I’d put you out of your misery. Or I’d be done being miserable once I killed you. Not that I’m miserable, mind you. And not that I want to kill you, for that matter. It’s simply that, well, listen up, buddy. This is my place.” She poked her finger into his chest. “You got that?”

  He held up his hands, surrendering.

  “And you’re going to do as I say. Understand?” She took a deep breath, collecting herself from the scare. “I had no choice in the matter with you coming to live here, but I’m going to make damn good and sure you do things on my terms now that you’re here.” She stood with her hands on her hips in a Wonder Woman power pose. She’d read somewhere that by standing as if you’re strong and fierce, you adopt those characteristics. “Starting with no more near-nakedness. None. If you want to be nude, then go to your room and shut the door. But around me, you must be fully clothed. At all times.”

  Her first rule, made up on the spot, had more to do with the fact that she might weaken her resolve if she had to look at his sexy chest and those slim hips and the bulge in his boxers. Then she’d remember what it felt like being up close and personal with that very protuberance. But she was so not going there. He could keep his hot body to himself, thank you.

  “Rule number two.” She held up her pointer finger and middle finger for emphasis. “Pretend I’m not here at all times.”

  Tomasso raised his hands.

  She shook her head. “Save your questions until the end.”

  “The end of time? Or the end of your diatribe?”

  “Ha-ha. This isn’t a diatribe. I’m laying down the ground rules for your intrusion on my privacy.”

  “But this is important,” he said, rubbing his hand along his abdomen in that way that guys do that makes girls crazy because they’d rather have their hands doing that instead.

  She nodded, her lips pursed. “Fine, but keep it quick.”

  “So if I’m to pretend you’re not here, then why can’t I wander around half-naked? I mean, if you’re not here, the fact is, I like to be comfortable, and sometimes that means wearing only my underwear, or even nothing at—”

  Gisele groaned. “Whatever. Just don’t be naked near me. That is punishable by immediate expulsion from the premises. Which means you’ll be sleeping on a park bench in Central Park. And you’ll freeze to death. Except that they’ll arrest you first. Which means maybe you’ll end up on Riker’s Island. Which won’t be pleasant. You can be naked there all you want. But you’ll last about a minute.”

  “You’re all heart.” Tomasso shook his head.

  “Takes one to know one.” She almost couldn’t believe she’d invoked that childish taunt, but there you had it: Gisele Hornsby had officially been reduced to toddler status by the presence of this vexing man.

  “For the record, I was entirely unaware I was intruding on your privacy.”

  “Sure. You didn’t know I’d be here.” She crossed her arms and wrinkled her brow.

  “I hadn’t a clue. As f
ar as I knew, I would be living alone here. Last night, I got in late and went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I woke up. And now I have the Archangel of Hades biting my arm—breaking skin, no less—and karate chopping me for no good reason.”

  “Well, what was I supposed to do?”

  “Hell if I know. All I can tell you is my sister said Parker was going to visit her for a while and his place was empty. I was coming here for a wood carving apprenticeship and I hadn’t had any luck finding a temporary place to stay. Your brother offered for me to stay here.”

  “And no one bothered to mention to you that Parker and I live together in our parents’ house?”

  “I don’t even know who your parents are, so no. I hadn’t a clue.”

  She glared at him. “My parents are to be left out of this.”

  He glared back and screwed his finger by his temple, indicating he thought she was crazy. “You’re the one who brought up your parents. I didn’t!”

  Gisele glanced at her watch. “Look, I have to get to work or I’ll get fired. Stay out of my room, don’t touch anything you shouldn’t touch, and leave me the hell alone.” She grabbed her purse and turned on her heel. “And have a nice day.” She stomped loudly down the steps.

  A minute later she threw her big down jacket on and pulled a hat over her head against the elements, slamming the door behind her for emphasis.

  She knew it was going to be a crap day and it had just gotten much, much worse.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well, shoot,” Gisele muttered as she slipped along the street approaching her office, almost landing on her butt. All I wanted was a nice warm muffin and a hot cup of coffee and now I’m starting my day instead with a cold blast of like-it-or-not. Not to mention what was likely a particularly warm bun attached to that Wretched Romeo. The last thing she could let herself think about was what his buns felt like in her hands, so she banished that thought to the no-man’s land section of her brain, along with all other foolish initial impressions of Tomasso Romeo that turned out to be completely wrong. What a bummer.

  Gisele tried to divert to a coffee shop in the lobby of her building, but the line was twenty deep and there was no way she could make it by seven if she attempted that. Her stomach growled and her brain silently did as well. She lined up with the masses to catch the next elevator and mercifully wedged herself in right as the doors began to close on the first available lift. For the entire thirty-eight floors up, she stood stiff like a soldier, arms pressed to her body, and packed in to tightly she could barely breathe.

  The elevator opened and belched her and several others out into her office. As she shook out her limbs, she could hear her boss, Sophie Pellegrino shouting in the next room.

  “Let’s go, people, we don’t have all day,” she said, clapping her hands. Gisele peeled off her coat and looked at the clock on the wall: five minutes after seven. Of course it was.

  “You’re late,” Sophie said as Gisele turned the corner. “What part of ‘be on time’ did you not understand?”

  Gisele rolled her eyes. It helped that her boss was one of her best friends. “I’m sorry, Soph,” she said. “It’s been one of those days.” She shook her head. “Actually, it’s been way worse than one of those days. It’s been a shit sandwich kind of day and I’ve barely taken a bite of the thing before spitting it out, so I’m not holding my breath for the rest of the day to get much better.”

  Sophie crossed her arms and lifted her brow. “I can’t begin to imagine what has happened to make you, my cheerful, perennial glass-half-full production assistant, show up sounding so miserable. Did a clown arrive on your doorstep, threatening to abduct you?”

  “Worse, if you can imagine. And I have a deathly fear of clowns.”

  Sophie tapped her fingernail on her arm. “Do tell.”

  “So you remember I told you about the Italian Stallion, right?”

  Sophie nodded. “The man who was packing—”

  “Shhh!” Gisele held her finger up to her lips. “Not like I want to advertise this to the whole office.”

  “So he had a big dick! That’s a good thing. You should shout that to the world.”

  “Stop! Besides, I know nothing about the size of his—” Gisele crossed her fingers behind her back because, well, she didn’t want to get struck down by lightning for that little white lie.

  “Ladies! Would love to hear you discuss my manhood in greater detail, but time’s a-wastin’!” Justin Magruder, the assistant producer and their veritable third musketeer said as he draped his arms over their shoulders in a huddle.

  “Yes, but I’m the boss and I call the shots around here,” Sophie said. “And Gisele was just telling me about her man with the humongous—” she held up her hands, allowing a good foot of air space to linger between her palms, and smiled broadly.

  “Oh, my God. I am never going to confide in you if you’re gonna broadcast this to the universe!”

  Sophie winked at Justin conspiratorially. “Being that our dear friend Justin far prefers men to women, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to hear about what your man is packing as well. Right, Justin?”

  “I promise I won’t judge. Pinky swear.” He hooked his little finger and extended it to Gisele.

  Gisele shrieked but in a joking way. “All right, fine, you two. But stop interrupting me or we’ll be here till lunchtime and I’m already starved and we have a show to tape. Besides, he is unequivocally not my man.”

  “Sorry—didn’t I tell you? The interview’s been postponed till this afternoon. I was only giving you grief for being late when you got here. We can talk all morning.”

  “More importantly this means I can go eat something now.”

  “If only that Italian Stallion of yours was around, you could have him for breakfast.”

  Gisele groaned. “That’s the thing. He is around.”

  “Wait—he’s here? The man your brother was forcing on you like some poor goose about to become foie gras?”

  Gisele nodded. “One and the same. Only I didn’t even get a warning. He showed up after I went to bed last night. I ran into him—quite literally—as I was trying to get out the door this morning.”

  “Ran into him, eh?” Sophie steepled her fingers and drummed them together as she looked at Justin, her eyebrow lifted.

  “He was standing in the dark in the hallway outside my brother’s room and practically naked.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language.” Justin pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing his legs and leaning in, his warm brown eyes fixed on Gisele. Sophie dragged another one over and parked herself in it. “Like, how naked?” he said.

  “Well, I mean, it was dark, and it’s not like I was feeling around for the full monty. But his chest was bare and his legs were bare and, well, when he finally turned the light on, he had on a pair of that clingy underwear, like they’re boxers but they aren’t loose.”

  “The make-no-mistake-about-it kind.” Justin clutched his hand and pulled back his elbow, a victory cheer. “Yes! I like this guy already.” He scraped his fingers through his dirty blond hair.

  Sophie burst out laughing. “I prefer those too. You know what you’re dealing with right off the bat.” She laughed again. “Bat, get it? Like a big baseball bat? Oh, imagine if he was hung like a baseball bat.”

  Sophie shook her head. “I’m so glad my friends can laugh at my expense.”

  “All right, so then what? You were late because he scooped you into his arms and pulled you into the bedroom and dropped you on the bed and you made mad passionate love—”

  “Eww, on my brother’s bed? Yuck. No thanks. Plus that would have been for all of one-and-a-half seconds, to avoid being late for work. No, you doof. I read him the riot act.”

  “What?” Justin leaned his elbow on his knee while he kicked his leg back and forth impatiently. “Why would you do that with a sexy naked man with a huge boner?”

  “He wasn’t naked and when did I ever say anything about his erec
tion?”

  “Remember, you told me all about that after you got back from that wedding,” Sophie said, waving her hand dismissively.

  “Aha! So he has a big one then. This is all good news, Gisele.”

  “No, it is not! Even if he has a boner that acts like a perpetually springing fountain, it is not okay. The man dissed me not once but twice. Make that three times. Oh, hell, I’ve lost count. He was happy to take advantage of me but then he humiliated me and that is not the type of man I want half-naked in my hallway at five in the morning.”

  “That’s the type of man I want completely naked in my bed at five in the morning. Trust me, pride is overrated.” Justin high-fived Sophie as the two of them laughed.

  “So when you read him the riot act, what exactly did that mean?” Sophie leaned in to hear the details.

  “I told him no more naked stuff. And to leave me alone. And to pretend I wasn’t there.”

  Sophie crossed her hands over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes, mocking her friend. “Such a romantic, our girl Gisele is, isn’t she, Justin?”

  “Charm school graduate, she is.”

  “You two are being insufferable. What was I supposed to do? My brother forces this guy on me to ‘protect’ me.” She made air quotes as she snarled her lip. “And now I’m stuck with this guy who—”

  “With whom you’d love to finish what you started?” Sophie looked at her long and hard.

  Gisele scrunched her nose as if she smelled a rotten egg. “Does that make me pathetic if I admit that I’m still attracted to him even though he was a jerk to me?”

  “It makes you human, sweetie.” Sophie rubbed her friend’s shoulder. “From the sounds of it, you had a great time until he got cold feet. Maybe his cold feet had nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. Did you ever think about that?”