by Maggie Gates
“Who the fuck cares, Mad? I certainly don’t. And a piece of shit like that certainly doesn’t get a say.” He grinned, “Besides, the way things are going, I plan on keeping the past in the past—you and me from here on out.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kyle calmly walk back in and sit down at the bar. Bridget hurried over and rested her elbows on the bar as they talked.
“Looks like all’s good with your girl,” Luca said.
Steve walked in after Kyle and sauntered over to us. “You get him to calm down?” I asked.
Steve nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just needed a little de-escalating. Had a bad day at work, wanted to go out with Bee tonight, but she said she was working—Which was true. It was just a misunderstanding.” He looked at Luca, but instead of his usual frown, his mouth was simply in a pursed line. “DeRossi.”
“Pelham.”
“Wow, you two are a talkative bunch,” I muttered. Luca stifled a grin, and Steve just shook his head as he wandered back to where Chase was stewing and watching Bridget like a hawk.
Something inside swelled when I thought about Luca standing up for me. He came back from his trip to California and came back to me. As much as I wanted to shove my foot so far up Kyle Kingsley’s ass that he could taste the leather of my size nine cowboy boots, I liked the feeling of Luca stepping up for me even more.
What was that?
That feeling when you could rely on someone—when you knew that they were going to be there no matter what? What was that mix of safety and comfort? The sweet cocktail of knowing that you could stand up for yourself, but craving the feeling of someone else standing up for you?
Luca was all those things. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around how it made me feel. All I knew was that I was in a reckless freefall.
31
———
LUCA
July and August quickly passed. Maddie and I fell into a comfortable routine. By the middle of September, we were both left wondering why the hell we thought that being together would be such a problem.
On workdays, I’d stay over at her place so that her drive to the restaurant wasn’t so long. On weekends, she would drive over the bridge and stay at my rental on Atlantic Beach.
The only downside was that Astrid was constantly on my case about hiring a general manager for Revanche. She absolutely hated the slower pace of the North Carolina coast—preferring to spend the time that I didn’t need her here in New York City. I told her I hadn’t bothered with headhunting a G.M. yet because I wanted it to be an internal hire. That would have all been fine and dandy if I had actually been looking at the staff to see who would be a suitable candidate. Truthfully, I was just sticking around to be close to Maddie. The restaurant could run itself. Most of the time I spent in the office there was used to oversee my other establishments.
Apparently, our trip to New York for the James Beard Awards was the most time Maddie had taken off in years.
Fucking years.
After her confession, I immediately fired off an email to all the employees telling them to use their damn P.T.O.
No one gets brownie points for working themselves to death.
I made her take an extra day on the front end of the trip so that we could drive up and stay the night in Raleigh before we flew out. Of course, that meant she doubled down on her workload in the weeks before we left so that Rae wouldn’t feel like she was drowning.
Maddie wanted to make a stop to see her mom before we hopped on Highway 70 and headed for the capital. When we got to the assisted living facility, I got out to go in with her, but she dug her heels in and told me to wait in the car.
We finally compromised, and she let me sit in the lobby while she went back to her mom’s room. After a while, I got tired of looking through the emails that Astrid would answer and mindlessly scrolling through social media. I posted a photo of Maddie and me on my Instagram and smiled as I lingered on it for a minute while the likes and comments came flooding in.
With a little help and scheming from Rae and Scott, I dragged Maddie out of work early one night, and the two of us went to the beach. Just as the sun painted the sky in bright pinks and oranges, I set my phone on a timer and planted a kiss on her mouth at the edge of the water. Of course, a big ass wave had to come in and sweep us both off our feet and knock us on our asses. The camera snapped us in mid-air as we flailed before hitting the water. Still falling for you. -L, I had captioned the post.
I wasn’t trying to be sentimental, but Maddie had twisted my heart in ways I didn’t know was possible. Not once since I showed up at Revanche had I missed my condo in Los Angeles. In fact, I had let my buddy, Isaac, crash there when he was in town on business. The man had my net worth ten times over, but he was still cheap as shit. All I could think about was when I would close on my house here.
I had found a great piece of property right off the sound. With the right renovations, it would be perfect. I hadn’t told Maddie about it yet. I hired a builder out of Goldsboro to remodel the place just so she wouldn’t hear about it through the grapevine. It was gonna be one hell of a surprise when we got home from New York.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and sat back. The vinyl chair squeaked under my weight, and the lady behind the front desk looked over at me, “You need anything, honey?”
I gave her a polite smile and shook my head, “No, ma’am.”
She adjusted her cat-eye glasses and craned her head to get a better look. “Are you that fella’ who finally took our Maddie off the market?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I chuckled. “Guilty.”
“Well. We heard you were a city boy, but you don’t look so bad. I don’t care so much for that there Yankees hat on your head, but if Maddie thinks you’re alright, well, then you’re okay by me.”
I chuckled and gave her a nod, “Thank you, ma’am.”
She just waved me off, “You can call me Ms. Linda.”
I sat in silence for a little while, but my boredom got the best of me. “Ms. Linda,” I said as I wandered over to the front desk. “How, uh, how much does it cost for a resident to live here?”
She tapped her long, red fingernails against her desk and sighed, “Well, it depends a lot on the level of care that they need.”
“What about Maddie’s mom? How much does Maddie pay?”
Ms. Linda gave me a kind smile. “I can’t give out that kind of information, sweetheart.”
“What can you tell me?” I pressed, giving her my best smolder to get the information I wanted.
She grabbed a worn novel and fanned herself with it. I recognized the cover. It was one of the bodice rippers my mother liked to read—had Fabio on the front and everything. “If you were twenty years older, I bet I could teach you a few things in the bed, sweet cheeks.”
I grinned and winked, “I bet you could, but what are you talking about twenty years? You can’t be a day over forty-five.” So, she looked like she was at least seventy, but flattery gets you a lot of places.
Ms. Linda blushed and scribbled a number on a scrap of paper. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said. “But just know that if it gets out that I gave that to you, it’s gonna be a damn shame that I’ll have to wreck that pretty little face of yours.”
I inspected the high four digit figure she put down on the scrap of paper before shoving it in my pocket. “That’s every month?”
Ms. Linda nodded. “Yep. Don’t know how Maddie does it. Insurance helps a little, but that girl works her itty-bitty tail off. She’s never missed a payment.”
Suddenly, I wondered if Maddie’s workaholic nature was because she loved her job or because she actually needed the overtime. She had told me that she sold her mom’s house and moved onto the houseboat to cover the cost of the care, and that her winnings from Pastry Throwdown went to it. Still, I knew what Maddie made at the restaurant and did the math. She wasn’t scraping by, but there certainly wasn’t any wiggle room.
“If I
wanted to talk to someone who handles billing, is there a number I could have my assistant call?”
She plucked a business card out of a drawer and slid it over the counter to me. “Rhonda’s in the office nine to five, Monday through Friday.”
I tapped the card on the counter. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Just as I spun to return to my seat, Maddie came walking into the lobby and gave me a tired smile. “Hey. Ready to go?”
I nodded and gave Linda a wave goodbye and walked with Maddie out to the car.
✽✽✽
I put my hand on Maddie’s back and guided her up the front steps of my building, giving the doorman a nod. I punched the button in the elevator to take us up and let out a breath as the doors closed. I was a little nervous. It had been a long time since I’d brought a girl home, and I wasn’t just talking about my apartment in the city. As much as I liked Beaufort, I loved New York—it was my home. I wanted Maddie here with me for the awards and to meet my family, but I had the habit of thinking ten steps ahead. What if she didn’t like New York? I mean, I knew she’d spent some time working here early in her career, but that was a long time ago.
After our conversation at my beach rental, Maddie began spilling more bits and pieces about her childhood. How she vowed to not marry young like her parents did. How she promised herself that she would make a life that she was proud of in Beaufort—a quiet middle finger to her dad, who had left because he was always chasing bigger and better. I didn’t quite know how to wrap my head around that last one.
Beaufort was a cool little stop, but I loved it mainly because I loved Maddie. It was her home—it wasn’t mine.
New York was my home. I had to keep reminding myself that Beaufort wasn’t permanent. Being back in the hustle and bustle had me buzzing with energy. When I twisted my key and let Maddie walk into my apartment ahead of me, I could barely stand still.
“Wow,” Maddie said as she strolled through the living room. “Nice place.”
I dropped my keys on the coffee table and looked around. It had been months since I’d been here. Before Beaufort, I had been in California. Before California, I was in Vegas. “Good to be home,” I said on an exhale. Maddie immediately went over to the window that overlooked my view of the Upper West Side. I stood at her back and wrapped my arms around her. “I like you being here.”
Maddie tipped her head back and gave me a soft smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in New York.”
“How does it feel to be back?”
“Like deja vu. I never thought I’d be back here.”
“Not even if Revanche got nominated for a James Beard Award?”
She jerked around and looked at me as her eyebrows raised, “The restaurant got a nomination?!”
I shook my head, and she deflated just a little. I took her hands in mine. “No, Tesoro. The restaurant didn’t get nominated. We did.”
Maddie stared at me, dumbfounded, before blinking once, then twice, and saying, “I don’t follow.”
I chuckled, “Mad, you’re up for Outstanding Pastry Chef, and I’m up for Outstanding Restaurateur. We are nominated.”
She shook her head, “I… I don’t understand. I looked at the list of nominees myself when you sent it out in the managers’ email.”
“Yeah, I know. I was hoping I tricked you. I took our names off of it on purpose. I wanted to surprise you.”
Maddie’s face went through the full range of emotions, like scrolling through emojis on her phone. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You asshole! What would you have done if I just kept on hating you?”
I grinned and kissed her, knowing she wasn’t mad—she was just processing. I bent down and kissed her. “Plan A was to make you mine. Plan B was to hogtie you and toss you in the trunk.”
Maddie broke out into a fit of raucous laughter. “I was fucking nominated for a James Beard Award and you didn’t tell me for months?!”
“Scale of one to ten. How angry are you?”
“Angry? I’m fucking pissed at you, but I lo—” Maddie stopped herself. “Thank you. For bringing me here—for getting me nominated.”
I shook my head, just a little disappointed that she didn’t say the L-word. “Maddie, I didn’t get you nominated—You earned that on your own well before I bought Revanche.” I cracked a brief smile and added on, “But I sure as hell voted for you when the ballots were sent out. Do you remember in California when I told you that even back then, I knew who you were?”
Maddie nodded.
“I wasn’t kidding. You aren’t nobody, beautiful. It’s time you figured that out.”
She let out a shaky breath, and her gaze darted to the garment rack that was set up in the living room. “Is that my dress?”
“Mhmm.”
“God, I really hope it fits now.”
Maddie agreed to go out for a late dinner. Because she spent a few years working in New York, I didn’t feel the need to show her the sights—I wanted to show her off. Maddie threw on a little cocktail dress, and I put on a suit. I slid my watch onto my wrist to cover the part of my sleeve of tattoos that peeked out from under my blazer.
I went casual tonight. Well, as casual as Luca DeRossi was ever seen. Going out around town in shorts and a t-shirt was something I had gotten comfortable doing in Beaufort. Everyone knew who I was, but nobody cared. I wasn’t shy about my celebrity. Hell, getting out of the kitchen and leveraging that had propelled me to be in the position I was now. I wasn’t a sellout. I created jobs for my employees and memories for my guests. I’d use every bit of social capital that I had to keep doing just that. Outside of Beaufort, I had an image to uphold.
Maddie stepped out of the bathroom with her head bent down to the side as she fastened her earrings. “How do I look?” She asked as she straightened up.
“You can’t wear that,” I snapped when words finally leaked back into my brain. “No way.”
She looked down at the brassy brown dress that clung to her like a damn dream. It had long sleeves, but that was the most skin that was covered. The neck dropped in a deep V all the way down until it stopped just before her navel. The hem barely covered her ass. Her long legs were golden from the sun and completely bare except for a matching pair of heels.
“Because,” I began as I crossed the room and put my hands on her waist. “I’ll make a fool outta myself because you look like a fucking goddess.” And she did. From her pearl white hair to her golden skin, those silver eyes, and that bronze dress—she looked like she should be worshipped in a temple. The woman was my idol.
Her long hair was in a big bun with a few loose curls spilling out, framing her perfect face. Maddie fiddled with the hem, tugging it down as far as she could. “Astrid said this would be okay…”
I chuckled quietly and shook my head, “You look perfect, Tesoro. You ready to go?”
Maddie peeked out the window, down to the sidewalk where paparazzi crowded around the entrance to my building. “You sure you don’t wanna order in? Stay in and wear sweatpants? Netflix and chill?”
I stood behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay to be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Your poker face is shit.”
She turned away from the window and into my arms. “I like when we’re just Maddie and Luke,” she admitted.
That’s what I was afraid of. I wanted someone who had no interest in my lifestyle, but being in the public eye was an unfortunate and necessary evil for me and would be for my partner. I needed someone who was tough as nails and could handle it.
“I love you,” I said as I gave her a hug. Every minute of every day, I wanted to push her up against a wall and fuck her to kingdom come. Now, I just wanted to hold her and make her feel safe. I wasn’t swayed by the fact that she hadn’t reciprocated those three little words. She’d say it when she was ready. “Mad, whether or not you’re with me, people should know who you are. Take up the space that you deserve.”
&n
bsp; “Hold my hand?” She asked.
I unfolded her fingers and pressed a kiss into the center of her palm before lacing our hands together and leading her to the elevator. When we got into the lobby, I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go so that I could put my hand on her back. “Walk straight to the car. I’ve got you.” Cameras flashed, and I kept my expression unbothered. It was the longest five feet of my life. Every gut instinct I had told me to throw Maddie over my shoulder and get her away from those people, but I didn’t. Whatever nerves she had about going out on my arm disappeared. She put on her sunshine smile and gave the photographers a coy wave as I led her to the car. My driver had the back door open, and I ushered her in first before sliding in beside her.
“How’d I do?” She asked when we were finally alone.
I tucked a crooked finger under her chin and drew her in for a kiss. The windows were tinted, even though I didn’t care if the paparazzi got a shot of us like this. I wouldn’t care if they plastered it in the middle of Times Square. I wiped the pad of my thumb across her lower lip and chuckled, “Like you were made for this.”
32
———
MADELINE
New York with Luca was a whirlwind. Everywhere we went—and that was a lot of places—people wanted a piece of him, and by association, me. Every step of the way, he was at my side, guiding me through social events and helping me navigate the press. At every turn I was reminded just how comfortable he was with this life and what a fish out of water I was. My phone vibrated on the bathroom vanity as I took my time fixing my hair and putting on my makeup.
Astrid was appalled that I would even think about doing a DIY hair and makeup job and insisted on bringing in a professional team. I told her no. She pestered me to death about getting a manicure, but I was going back to work as soon as we landed in North Carolina—My nails would have to stay clean and unpolished. Finally, I told Luca that I would feel more like me if I did my own hair and makeup and he told her to back off. That was that. Astrid was a royal pain in my ass, but she had been hanging around the apartment for the better part of the day and honestly, I wasn’t mad about it. It was nice to have another woman around for a big event like this.
