Baby V (Chianti Kisses #1)

by Tara Oakes

  Grabbing hold of my lower hips, Dom aligns himself with me, and I feel the familiar cold tightness pressing into me, this time offering a different sensation from last night. The angle perhaps... I don’t know, but it’s sinfully delicious and I find myself craving more. My hands reach around to cover his and pull hard, signaling my request. He growls loud and pushes more of himself into me, filling me further than I even believed possible, this time without pain.

  The carnal scent filling the room leads to the animalistic intensity we find ourselves wrapped up in. His grunting and thrusting feeds my moaning and whimpering. Our connecting bodies ferociously supplying what the other craves. My breasts ache and my body tenses, with no relief in sight for the mounting pressure in my core, it’s on fire and Dom is only feeding the flames higher. I begin to cry out my frustration... the growing, bubble-like need inside begs to be popped, to be released.

  “Just let go, V. Come with me.”

  I let go of the imaginary handles steering my frustration and find that it sails away, bursting through any barriers and explodes, relieving the tension and edge, replacing it with a floating wave-like sensation. Dom finishes not long after me, splaying over me, recovering. I breath heavy, a steamy fog building up on the glossy finish of the table in front of me.

  Dom kisses my neck, my jawline, his own breathing erratic, but showing signs of improvement. It takes several moments, still joined moments, to calm ourselves back to normal. Our breathing becomes in tuned with one other, neither one of us eager to separate and end the union. I speak first, his lips too busy playing with my skin.

  “We need a new dining table.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Stopping into the local boutiques to buy a quick change of clothes and a cup of coffee, we head back home early the next morning. The weather is dramatically different than yesterday, making the closed top a necessity for the drive home. The windshield wipers offer a metronome-like rhythm to our conversation, before it is interrupted by a call to Ellen to confirm Dom’s travel plans for later tonight.

  “How long do you have to be gone, this time?”

  Dom exhales slowly. “Not long, I hope. Just long enough to stay on sight until some major deliveries pass through safely.”

  “What were you talking about with John last night? It didn’t sound like you would just be checking up on deliveries, Dom.” I sit up, eager to be given an honest answer ti satisfy my curiosity.

  Dom reaches his hand from the gearshift to join with mine.

  “It’s nothing crazy, V. We lost another shipment. One that was diverted from its original shipping route. Only someone on the inside could have known about the change. So, I’m going to go down and re-route all of the deliveries myself and try and figure this thing out.” He darts his eyes back and forth from the road. “Why... you’re not worried about me, are you?”

  I pinch his hand as punishment for his smart-ass attempt to deflect. “Was anyone else hurt this time? How many people have to end up in the hospital like Stanson? You’re going to go put yourself in the middle of that?”

  Dom pulls off of the major highway, and we enter his neighborhood.

  “I’ve got to leave in a few hours, babe. Don’t pick a fight, OK?”

  I plaster a sarcastic, tight lipped smile as I grin to him. Fine. You want to pretend everything is all rainbows and cotton candy?

  “Fine.”

  I remove my hand from his and fidget with my phone, emailing Theresa to meet me for drinks tonight at the sushi bar around the corner from her apartment eight PM sharp. She’s been begging to try the place.

  ~*~

  The blue neon background lights under the table surface offer a really cool ambiance to this place. I can see why Theresa’s been itching to come here. I informed the hostess that I would be joined by a guest, but so far... no sign of Theresa. She’d returned my email earlier today, confirming our plans, so she must just be running late. I order another club soda and wait it out. Dom should be landing in Miami soon, so I keep my cellphone in reach to receive his text.

  Fifteen minutes later and still no sign of Theresa. She may not be the most punctual person, but she’s by no means as perpetually late as I am. She falls somewhere in the middle. I decide to text her and find out how much longer she’ll be so I can place an appetizer order for the two of us.

  As I reach for my phone to start typing the message, a voice calls out to me.

  “Miss Lombardi? Vincenza Lombardi?”

  I glance up to the man standing nearby with drink in hand. He dark eyes and short dark hair add to the mystery-type vibe he exudes. His dark, tailored designer suit molds to him, complimenting his muscular form.

  I struggle to match his face to a name. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but eludes me.

  “Emilio... Emilio Rizzo.” He announces his name, introducing himself.

  My mouth gapes. I knew I had met him before, but had never expected him to be the infamous enemy of my family.

  “Mr. Rizzo. Of course. How nice to see you again…,” I try my best to play nice.

  He smiles, flashing his perfect and no doubt very expensive dentistry while eyeing the empty chair across from me. “Are you dining alone?”

  I turn to the chair, searching for an explanation for it’s emptiness.

  “Oh... Oh no. I’m just waiting for someone. She should be here any moment,” I offer.

  Without invitation, he takes the seat, placing his drink on the table. “I’ll just offer you my companionship until your guest arrives.”

  I sit stunned. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. Please... don’t let me keep you.”

  Emilio, waves my words away, dismissing the notion. “No trouble at all. And please, call me E.J. I insist. Please, let me order you a drink.” He waves a waiter over and hod up his cocktail glass.“Another, please. And one for the lady.”

  I try to interject politely, but both he and the waiter overlook my objections. I sit back, sizing up my opponent. He’s devilishly handsome, for sure, and cocky to boot.

  “Come here often?” I make sure my words drip with sarcasm and insincerity.

  E.J. Laughs and sips the remaining liquid at the bottom of his glass. “You could say that. I usually stop in for a drink when I’m in the neighborhood. You? I know your boyfriend likes it here, I’ve seen him once or twice. Usually with that girl... what’s her name?” Emilio snaps his fingers in the air, pretending to recall a forgotten name. “Ah! Tanya! I think that was it. Lovely girl.”

  Ah, so he’s gonna play dirty. That’s how this is gonna go, hmm. The waiter interrupts our passive aggressive conversation, setting down large frosted glasses filled with a multicolored concoction. I nod to him, thanking him for the cool refreshment, although I have no intention of drinking anything ordered by this man. Once we are left to ourselves again, I retaliate.

  “Yes, well... Dom’s just a real personable kind of guy, I guess. One of the skills necessary to run a multi-billion dollar company so successfully.”

  He sips his drink, eyeing me. “Ah... that must be it, then. Speaking of the charming CEO himself, what’s this I hear of even more trouble? Delivery losses?”

  E.J. Is baiting me, taunting me, all the while fishing for information. I clear my throat, squinting my eyes menacingly at him.

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean. Business has never been better.” I steal a glance over to my phone. No messages. Where the hell is Theresa?

  E.J. Nods condescendingly. “Ah... I must get better informants, then. I’ve been told he is traveling as we speak to our newest shipping hub to deal with some... hiccups. But, what else is to be expected from such a dangerous business as ours.”

  His eyebrow raises, judging my nonexistent reaction. I shrug my shoulders, brushing off his query.

  “Nope. Sorry... He’s just going to touch up his tan. If you’ll excuse me…” I reach for my phone and handbag, standing. “...I’ll be using the ladies room. If you’re no longer here when return, I must say my
farewell now” E.J.’s manners prove to be impeccable as he rises for my exit.

  “Good night, Mr. Rizzo.”

  “Miss. Lombardi,” E.J. acknowledges as I walk past.

  I reach the safety of the ladies room and promptly withdraw my phone, texting furiously to Theresa.

  WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!!!

  I hide behind the swinging door as woman after woman enters and leaves. The pinging of my phone alerts me to Theresa’s overdue message.

  ME? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!!! YOU’RE ALWAYS LATE V, BUT THIS IS RIDICULOUS! I LOOK LIKE A MORON SITTING HERE ALONE!

  I furrow my forehead. What the hell is going on here? I send one last final text.

  MEET ME AT YOUR APARTMENT.

  I pull the swing door open, stealing a glance at the abandoned table previously occupied by that rat, on my way out of the restaurant. As I am only two city blocks from Theresa’s apartment, I arrive first. The doorman recognizes me on site, and we make pleasantries, keeping each other company as we await Theresa’s arrival.

  Within the half hour, a yellow cab pulls in front of the glass doored building. I see Theresa struggle to disembark from the back seat without flashing the passers by, in her tight black skirt. She hands a folded up sum to the driver through his opened window before hurrying into the lobby.

  Out of breath, she immediately begins to question me.

  “Where were you, V? I waited almost an hour!” She is visibly upset at her ordeal.

  I hush her, taking hold of her elbow and lead us to the elevator while furiously pressing the upward facing arrow button. There isn’t much demand for the elevator at this time of evening, so there is not much time to wait before the bell chimes and the electronic doors part for our entry. I wave to the confused doorman through the rapidly closing doors.

  Once inside and alone, I turn to my friend, “What restaurant were you in?”

  She looks more confused than before.

  “What are you talking about, V. The exact restaurant you told me to meet you in. Alberti’s. Have you lost your damn mind?”

  Imaginary sirens ring in my head. I whip out my phone and bring up my most recent emails, scrolling through to show evidence for my next statement. I hold out the phone to her as I speak.

  “You mean Sushi Sushi? Here’s the email I sent you. And here...”I reclaim my phone to advance to the next email. “Here’s the one you sent me, confirming.”

  Theresa shakes her head, “No... Look...” She brings up her own email on her smartphone. “...See. It’s right here, you said Alberti’s.”

  We both eye each other and our phones, no closer to an answer than we were. The elevator door opens and we pile out in the direction of her apartment door.

  “What does all this mean?” She wonders aloud as her keys jingle in the locking mechanism.

  I swallow hard, unhappy with the creepy explanation I was about to offer. I close the door behind us, locking the deadbolt as well as the door chain, offering a sense of security before I divulged my theory.

  “It means.... someone switched our messages. Someone wanted to separate us tonight, and I’m pretty sure I know who.”

  ~*~

  I love the smell of new things. The new paint, new leather... both meld into one giant aroma as I enter my new office. The lettering on the door is brand spanking new, too. I set my laptop case on my sparsely occupied desktop and make the rounds to start the coffee maker, boot up the computers and check my messages. My interns won’t arrive until next week, but I’ve been managing pretty well so far by myself, so I have no doubt the next handful of work days won’t be any different.

  Two hours and three cups of coffee later, my office phone rings. I stare at it, as very few people even have the phone number for it. I pick up the receiver and practice my well rehearsed introduction.

  “Vincenza Lombardi, how may I help you?” I try to sound as professional as I can.

  I reach for a pencil to scribble down any notes from the call.

  “Can you tell me why I am getting reports that you had drinks with E.J. Rizzo last night?”

  I drop my pencil to the desk, the rubberized eraser causing it to rebound and bounce over the edge, landing on the floor an the far side from where I am sitting. Crap.

  I inhale deep, preparing my answer, knowing full well how ridiculous it will sound. I don’t get to offer it though, as I am cut off.

  “I thought I made myself abundantly clear on this, V. And yet, what do you know? The second I leave town, you’re spotted in a restaurant with the one man who I would kill with my bare hands for simply speaking to you.”

  I widen my eyes in shock at the violent threat. “I...”

  “Don’t even... If I wasn’t clear before, let me make myself crystal for you. You are not to speak to the man, you are not to have drinks, dinner or any other meal with the man, V. You are not to share phone calls, text messages, or emails with the man. Is there anything I have forgotten to specifically detail?”

  Anger flashes inside me, as Dom continues his tirade. I stand up, pushing myself up from my seat. “I...”

  “We’ll talk about this when I get home. Until then, just do as I say.”

  Click.

  He hung up on me. My eyes bore into the dial tone radiating from the receiver in my hand. That son of a bitch hung up on me! I use my shaking finger to pound the numbers into the keypad of the phone. Two rings later, it’s answered.

  “V...”

  “No!” I interrupt. “I’m the one talking now. First of all, I didn’t have drinks or anything else with him. I was waiting at a restaurant for your sister. E.J. Happened to be in that same bar, having a drink and approached me where I promptly, shut. Him. Down. So the next time one of my little babysitters reports back to you, make sure you have your facts straight before you have the nerve to scold me. And we will not talk about this when you get home, because I will most likely not be talking to you at all. Do I make myself crystal clear?”

  I don’t wait for an answer as I pound the phone into the receiving dock. I find my anger is only escalating, so I pick up the phone and slam it down three more times. The phone immediately rings. I carefully lift the handle and stretch the cord, tossing the receiver into the trash, at which point my cellphone begins to vibrate. I power the phone down and stuff it deep into my handbag.

  I manage to get another half hour or so’s worth of work accomplished before the emails begin to flood my inbox. I delete each one without reading. I continue with my mental to-do list.

  All of the event invitations have been sent, the transportation arranged, vendors hired, and legal paperwork for our scholarship fund in place to be executed. As of now, I think there’s not much left to do other than wait.

  I use the search engine on my computer to browse for spyware and software capable of intercepting emails. After last night’s charade, I need to know how our mishap was orchestrated. No direct links are found other than prototypes and patent pending research proposals. I take the opportunity to change all of my passwords, to strengthen them against hacking. I choose the most fitting code that enters my mind at the moment. All caps.

  DOMS A DICK.

  ~*~

  Other than a barrage of direct-to-voicemail phone calls, an inundation of emails, several bouquets of delivered flowers and even an armed couriered jewelry delivery, all from Dom, the next handful of days pass uneventfully. I manage to finalize all of the event details and tidy up some loose ends. With more than a couple of late nights under my belt, and even earlier mornings... I decide to let loose and have some fun. Stephanie and I have been playing phone tag for weeks, since her return from her family vacation. We make plans to meet up later tonight for a good old-fashioned girl’s night out.

  I find myself watching the clock like a hawk, begging it to magically turn to five PM so I can lock up and head home guilt-free for the weekend. With twelve minutes to go, I begin to power-down my computer while tossing loose scraps of paper into the trash pail. Ten minutes. I
can practically feel the outdoor sun on my face.

  What happens next throws me for one hell of a roller--coaster loop. With my office door opened, I have a direct view into the outer lobby. The overly made-up, leopard-print wearing, ozone-killing, perfumed blow-up doll walking in, is just enough to make me curse under my breath. I haven’t seen Tanya since Cecily’s baby shower. I had hoped not to have to see her again for at least s few months, in light of the new revelations regarding her past with Dom.

  “Hallo?!?” Her squeaky, nasally, voice calls out through the opened doors.

  I slam my hand down on the desk, using the momentum to push myself away. The wheels on my chair continue to roll back after I’ve left it. I close my eyes tight.

  “Tanya! I’m in here. I’m not exactly sure what you’re doing here, but, I’m really not in the mood for this.”

  Tanya’s silicone infused boobs make it through the door before she does. Her giant faux snakeskin bag clashes terribly with her Carmela Soprano mini-dress, but that’s the least of her problems. And mine.

  “Well, look at you all settled into your new office…” She looks around, taking stock of the half furnished office space. “Looks like the princess is finally taking her thrown.”

  I silently wonder at the appropriateness of a full-fledged bitch-fight in the middle of the office, and although I decide it’s not exactly the epitome of professional, I none the less prepare myself for it.

  “I really don’t have the time for this, Tanya. I’m heading out.” I grab my handbag and begin to make my escape.

  “This won’t take long.” I roll my eyes at her words, knowing that absolutely nothing with Tanya doesn’t take long.“Cecily thinks I should apologize to you for how you took what I said at the shower.”

  Of course, Tanya can’t just apologize for saying the things she did, she has to spin it and apologize for the way I took it. Like it was something I did. It’s now five PM.