“Are you even listening to me?” Cassie asks from beside me as we walk out of the hotel toward our boat in Venice. “Your parents are in Paris.”
“Oh, good,” I say to her. After getting into the boat, I turning to hold out my hand to help her. “I spoke to Ryan today, and he thinks he can squeeze one more day in Paris before we fly back to New York.”
“More time with my parents.” I sit down, taking my phone out. “How long are we there for?”
“We leave Italy tomorrow,” she says, opening her phone, “then we are there for five days.” I watch her fingers move. “He is allowing the press and screening in one day, so the press gets a break. I heard that Alex will be coming.” She mentions France’s most eligible bachelor. He’s been in the press lately. Some good, mostly bad. I don’t mention that I know him, or that we’ve shared a couple of meals in the past.
I nod, thinking about the four days I’ll have off. It’s been four days since my relationship with Jessica flipped a bit. Actually, it flipped a lot. It’s been four days that we’ve woken together, going to the gym together. Today, I even held her hand, and she let me. She also knew that no one would be up, so it was safe. She goes out of her way to make it normal and make sure no one knows what is going on. After the first day, I convinced her to spend the night again, but Cassie banging on the door in the morning was her breaking point. So now I sleep in her room, and in the mornings after we work out, we head our separate ways until press time. We text during the day, though. She even has me under “Itch Scratcher,” so if I text her, no one knows. She actually took my phone and changed her name to “Berry Fondue.”
I craved the time we spent together, craved the normal that we were. After we ate, we would lay in bed watching Dateline. I’d fall asleep wrapped up in her, waking the minute she rolled away, so I went to her.
“Do you want me to set up a dinner for us and your parents?” Cassie says. “I can call Alex, and we could get in a private time.”
“No.” Shaking my head, I say, “I’ll call Alex myself.”
“Well, which day should I block off?” she asks, and I shrug. “I need to know so I can have everything set up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, tucking my phone inside my jacket pocket. This is going to be the first red carpet event since Dubai. Today, my date is Evelyn, and I told Cassie I’m not to be alone with her ever.
“You haven’t made your own plans in thirteen years.” I look up at her, thankful that we’ve finally gotten to the event so she puts her phone away. She gets out first, followed by Evelyn, and when I climb out, I hear the roar of the crowd. They say you get used to it, but nothing will ever get me used to the thousands of people who gather and call out your name. I walk down the red carpet, trying not to look for her but failing. I spot her right away because my body knows exactly where she is. Her back is to me, her arms crossed over her chest. And right down the middle of her back is a thick gold zipper. Her hair is hanging loose and looked so much better right before I got to her. Now it looks like it went to war with someone’s hands, and it did—mine. The last time I saw her was when I left the interviews, and I made a pit stop at her room using the spare key she gave me. I found her sitting on the counter in the bathroom of her hotel room naked, curling her hair. She turns around, and I see the dress has long sleeves and is high to her neck. Her lips are full and painted pink, the same pink I tried to kiss off, but it wouldn’t smudge. She stands there smiling, and when I pass her, our eyes meet for a minute, and then we turn away.
I walk in the theater and pose for more pictures while the press packs up outside. I look out the window and see Jonathan go over to her and touch her waist, her head going back and laughing. She must feel me looking because she looks over at me and smiles. It’s a different smile than what she gave Jonathan; she gives him one like the smile I give the fans and reporters. I chitchat with a couple of people, waiting for the press to come inside. I’m standing here when they finally come inside. “Since we are in Italy, we have to eat pizza, pasta, and Prosecco, or some combination of the three!” Autumn says, and I nod at them.
“Let’s go,” I tell them, turning to walk out of the theater with Jessica beside me. “Hey.” I look over my shoulder to see how far back everyone else is. “You look beautiful,” I say quietly.
“Thank you,” she says, looking over her shoulder also now as we walk forward and then she stops talking when Cassie jogs to my side.
“Are we going to Nonna’s?” she asks, her whole face lighting up. “I love that place. Remember when you took me there last time?”
Jessica slows her pace as I keep up with Cassie beside me. “Is that our boat?” I ask her, and Cassie nods. Looking over my shoulder, I see that Jessica is now walking beside Autumn and Kendall. I gesture for Cassie to get in the boat first and then wait as everyone slowly climbs in. Jessica is the last one in, followed by me, and I sit next to her as the boat takes off in the direction of the little hole in the wall restaurant.
I’m the first one off, so I hold my hand out for Jessica and let our touch linger, our pinkies the last to let go. We walk down a road so narrow that we can’t even stretch our arms to the side when we recognize the smell of pizza in the air. I duck down, going into the restaurant, and see that the four tables are empty. “Everyone grab a seat,” I say to them and go and sit at a table, Cassie joins me right away. I look around the room for Jessica but don’t see her. She returns five minutes later and takes the last available seat at my table, sitting to my left.
“Sorry, I was in the restroom,” she says and then looks around at the room. A little old lady comes out from the back; she must only stand four-foot-eleven. Her black hair turned a dark gray is pushed back with a black headband. A white apron that has sauce smeared on it is worn over her all-black outfit.
“Quante pizze prenderai?” How many pizzas will you take? she asks gruffly.
“Dieci.” Ten, I answer her. “Margarita.”
“Va bene.” Good, she says, then turns to yell, “Marco.” I want to say that all ten were not eaten, but we had to order two more. Most of it went to the men, who couldn’t stop eating. We all piled into the boat for it to bring us back to the little island where we are staying.
Walking into the lobby, I make my way to my room with Cassie beside me. “The plane leaves at eleven tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” I say, looking down at my phone to see if I have any messages. “I guess I’ll see you at eleven.” I walk out of the elevator and to my room, scanning the card to enter. FaceTiming Jessica, I smile when she answers after one ring. “Are you coming here, or am I going there?”
She laughs. “Is this your way of saying you want to spend time with me?” she jokes, and I shrug off my jacket.
“I’ll be there in five. Keep the dress on.”
“Really?” she says. “Is that because you can finally see the zipper?” I disconnect the phone and change into my workout clothes for tomorrow. In case anyone sees me, I could always say I’m going to work out. I make my way to her room, scanning the card and walking in.
She is bent over the desk, typing something on her computer, but my body has a mind of its own. Slapping her on her ass, she jumps. “Ouch,” she says, “that hurt.”
“Did it?” My hands grip her hips now, pulling her to me. “Let me make it better.” My head falls and kisses her. My hand moves from her hips to the back of her dress and that big ass zipper she has all the way down her back. The sound of the zipper fills the rooms along with her moans. I walk her to the bed, and by the time I’m finished with her, her dress lies on the side of the bed.
“I want you to meet my mom,” I tell her after she comes out of the bathroom with her hair piled on top of her head. She stops in her tracks and looks at me. “Well, actually my mom and my dad.”
“When?” Her feet finally move as she comes to bed and gets in.
“Um, in Paris.” I turn to look at her. She is wearing my T-shirt that I had on when I
walked in the room. “They are going to be there, and I want you to meet them.”
“I don’t . . .” she starts to say, and I pull her to me.
“Please.” Her eyes come to mine. “I really, really want her to meet you.”
“But what are you going to tell them?” I’ve been contemplating that same question since I decided I wanted her to meet my mother. I want to be able to say, “Hey, Mom, this is my girlfriend.” I want to be fucking normal for once.
“We can tell them we are dating, or we can tell them you’re a friend.” Not sure why but the second part feels like acid coming out of my mouth. “It really doesn’t matter to me as long as you meet them.”
“But what about the press?” she asks the age-old question. “What about Cassie? What about the paparazzi? It’s the official release.”
“We can have dinner privately with just the four of us.” I answer one question at a time. “Cassie will not be there, and I won’t tell her about it either.” Taking a deep breath, I say, “I just want to be a normal guy who wants to introduce his parents to a girl who is really cool. That he likes a lot, that he scratches all his itches with.”
“Okay,” she says softly. She crawls to me, and throwing a leg over me, she straddles me. Now my cock thinks it’s time for another round. “I’ll meet your mom and dad.”
She kisses me, holding my face in her small hands. “Thank you.” Pulling her close to me, I say, “I think I have another itch.”
She sits up straight. “Really?” She grabs the shirt, tossing it over her head. “Me, too.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jessica
This secret couple were spotted strolling on the beach hand in hand in Malibu.
“I think that was the fastest flight we’ve had,” I say to Tyler, unbuckling my seat belt to stand. He got on last, and lucky for me, the seat next to me was open. “We only watched one episode of Dateline.”
“I called the last case,” he says, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. His shirt rises a touch, showing his smooth stomach; a stomach I am very familiar with. I stand next to him as we walk out of the plane, and I hold onto the railing since I’m wearing heels. Even though we aren’t meeting his parents today, I dressed up a bit just in case. I’m wearing my tight dark gray pants with the same color belt tied in a bow on the side. I paired it with my tight white long-sleeved, slightly off-the-shoulder shirt. Holding my bag next to me, I get on the bus, and we make our way to the Four Seasons.
Once we stop and I grab my bag, I make my way past the two doormen who hold the doors open for us and look around in awe when we get into the lobby. Yamina and Yolanda are both there with huge smiles on their face. “I hope you guys are ready to be pampered,” she says to us. “Not only are we here for an extra day, but to thank you all for your amazing work, Tyler has included a spa package for all of you,” she says while she hands us our room card. I look around at the marble lobby. A crystal chandelier hangs in the middle of the room, and mirrored vases containing pink roses decorate the room. Two archways are to the left, and the front desk is to the right. A huge painting covers the wall behind the brown marble desk.
I grab my key card from Yamina. “Thank you so much.” Smiling, I turn and walk away, only to bump into a beautiful lady a tad shorter than I am. Her blond hair is in a short bob, curled under at the sides. “I’m so sorry. I have a bad habit of looking down.” A taller man comes over and puts his hands on her shoulders. His hair is black like a certain someone and his eyes the exact shade of his son’s. Great. The first time I meet his parents, I almost run down his mom.
“Everything okay?” his father asks his mother, who looks at him and nods and then looks back at me with a huge smile.
“It’s fine, dear,” she says softly.
“Mom, Dad,” Tyler says from beside me, and I turn to him. He puts one hand on my lower back. Then he walks to his mother and hugs her, her hands going around his waist.
“Tyler.” The loving softness of her voice gets to me a bit, and I try to sneak off. “You look wonderful.” Pushing him away and holding his cheeks, she looks in his eyes.
“Mom”—he laughs—“let me say hello to Dad.” She lets him go, and he walks to his father, who is just a touch taller than he is. I watch them and see the tall, burly man take his son in his arms and slap his back. He stands back from his father with his hand on his shoulder, and he looks over at me. “I see you met my parents,” he says, and I nod.
“I bumped into your mom,” I admit, looking at her and seeing that she is wearing blue jeans and a simple white T-shirt with Chanel ballerina flats, that I can tell she didn’t buy herself.
“Mom, Dad,” he says with a smile, “this is Jessica, one of the reporters on the press tour.” I breathe a sigh of relief of sorts that he didn’t give our relationship or whatever we have away. “Jessica, these are my parents, Susanna and Frank.”
I reach out my hand to shake his mother’s hand, but she pulls me to her and envelops me in a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you,” I say, and then look at Frank, who leans in with a side hug and kisses me on the cheek.
His mother is about to say something else when I hear Cassie’s voice. I think I hide the cringe right away, but his mother looks at me, almost as if she is checking to see something. “Frank, Susanna,” she says, almost pushing me out of the way so she can hug his mother and then kiss his father on the cheek, “I’m so excited you’re here.” She looks at them and then at me; her disdain for me is apparent, but she just ignores me and looks back at Susanna. “Did you get the stuff I sent?”
“I did, dear.” She nods her head. “But the room, it’s just too much.”
“Oh, please,” she says, waving off with her hand. “I’m just so excited you guys are here. I’m trying to set up a couple of dinners.” She looks at Tyler, who looks back at her. “I’m just waiting for Tyler to give me the plans.”
“I told you I would take care of it,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets.
“If you guys will excuse me,” I say, not sure I want to be here. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” I smile at them and walk around them. As I walk to the elevator, I’m angry that Cassie was around, angry that I almost ran his mother over the first time I met her, and angry that, well, I’m not sure what, but I’m angry.
I look down at the key card and get into the elevator, then press my floor. Scanning my key card when I reach the door, I open it, and my feet sink into the plush carpet. I kick off my heels, closing the door behind me. The closet is right in front of the door, so I place my luggage near it and walk into the room. The colors are a light blue gray and ivory; a king bed sits in the middle of the room with a bedside table on each side. I put my purse on the sitting bench at the end of the bed and walk to the bathroom that is, of course, all marble. Turning on the lights in the room, I grab my computer and sit on the bed. My phone rings as soon as I power up the computer, and looking down, I see it’s Tyler.
“Hello,” I answer on the third ring even though I thought about not answering. I’m going through these feelings, and I’m not sure what it is.
“Hey, where are you?” he asks quietly, so I’m assuming he’s with his parents or even Cassie.
“I’m in my room,” I answer and look out the window, seeing the building in front of us. “I’m going to work a bit,” I tell him, hoping he just lets me be.
“What room number are you in?” I hear him moving, so I know he is walking. I could not tell him, but then he would just find out anyway and it would just prolong the discussion.
“Why don’t you spend time with your parents, and we can see each other tonight or tomorrow?” I close my eyes and put my head back. “You barely see them.” I wait a second to see if he is going to answer me and then notice nothing. I look down at the phone to see if maybe we got disconnected, but the time still ticks on. “Hello?” I say into the dead silence and then I hear a knock on my door. I toss the phone on the bed and get up, going ove
r to the door. Opening it, I’m not surprised to find Tyler. I am surprised about the face he is giving me as he walks past me into the room, and I close the door. I follow him into the room, and he stands looking out of the window. “So you found me.”
He stands with his hands on his hips, still looking out, then he turns around, and his anger is still there. “What is going on?” he asks, and to be honest, I have no intention of telling him what is going on with me. Because I don’t even get it. “You just ran off.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t just run off; you guys were making plans.” It’s the truth; the four of them were making plans, and well, I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to feel left out. “I didn’t want to intrude.” That is a nicer way of saying it.
“Intrude.” He repeats the nice word I said, and the anger builds a bit, and I let some of it go.
“Yeah, intrude on your plans,” I finally say. “You guys were making plans, and it was awkward for me to just be there listening. It was also none of my business, so I left.”
“Those plans were for us,” he finally says. “I told Cassie I would make my own plans without her so that you could have time with my parents.”
“Well, I don’t think she got the memo,” I say, sounding jealous even though I’m not. Shaking my head, I say, “Listen, I don’t know what is going on.” I cross my arms. “I was in a place that wasn’t my place, so I left in order to make other people feel comfortable.”
“What do you want me to say here, Jessica?” He asks the question, but I’m not even sure I have an answer. “Do you want me to tell everyone we are going to have dinner with my parents? Do you want me to hold your hand when we are out together?”
“No,” I say. “Don’t make me sound like a needy teenager.” My hands fall to my sides. “Listen, I have no idea what is going on right now. All I know is that I’m here for work and so are you.” Pointing at him, I say, “So let’s do this work thing, and then when we get back to our normal lives, we can deal with this.”
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