by Maggie Gates
Usually if I had to get gussied up for something, I’d go to Hannah’s house and we’d watch our favorite rom coms and help each other get ready. I didn’t have my girls in New York with me, but they were there in spirit and text message.
Hannah Jane: OMG! I just checked out at Wal-Mart and you and Luca were on the cover of a magazine! Girl, you looked HOT!
Melissa: I need a copy! Tell me you bought more than one.
Hannah Jane: Of course I did! Bought out the whole rack. We have to save these so we can show their kids one day!
Maddie: Y’all better cut it out. You know Luca’s in this group text now, right?
Luca: You better stop texting and quit hogging the bathroom, woman.
Chase: Still too much estrogen in this group text.
Kristin: Ooooh! I need a copy too! We should put them out in the lobby of the inn!
Maddie: Hell fucking no.
Bridget: Send us pictures, you two! Good luck, Mad Dog!
I laughed and shook my head. My friends were slightly insane and sometimes insufferable, but I loved them. They were the family I was supposed to have.
I kept my look clean and demure. I didn’t know what kind of dress hid under that garment bag, so I kept things simple. My hair was in beach waves with one side pinned back behind my ear with two gold hair pins. My face was clean—just a dab of foundation and concealer and a light brush of powder. My cheeks were rosy, and my eyes were simple with just a few swipes of mascara. I eyed the tube of red lipstick and then the more subtle blush shade I usually wore. “Fuck it,” I muttered under my breath as I grabbed the red and carefully filled in my lips.
There was a knock at the door and then Astrid’s voice as she said, “Ready for your dress?”
I twisted the doorknob and let her in. “I guess.”
If Astrid had any opinions on my lack of enthusiasm, she didn’t make them known. She hooked the hanger on the back of the door and unzipped the bag.
“Holy shit,” I whispered.
“Let’s get you dressed,” she said without further ado.
From the moment she opened the garment bag to the moment I stepped into it and she zipped it up, I was speechless. The dress was a black matte satin that made me feel badass. Two thin spaghetti straps held it up. The sweetheart neckline dipped dramatically right in the middle, showing off a thin strip of skin between my cleavage. Off the tiny straps, gold studs and beads created a tiny cap on top of my shoulders that reminded me of little wings. The dress hugged every inch of me until halfway down my thighs where it flared out to a dramatic train. It was gorgeous and kick-ass, but somehow still comfortable.
Astrid helped me into my heels and adjusted the train so that I could walk. Luca was in his tux, waiting in the living room. His jet black hair was styled to a handsome perfection and he had shaved his thick stubble into a debonair five o’ clock shadow. He was scrolling through his phone and sipping on a glass of bourbon when I walked in. The moment he looked up, Luca left his glass and phone behind and was on his feet, crossing the room in purposeful strides.
“Lipstick!” I warned him. “Don’t mess it up!”
Luca had a fleeting moment of irritation at my admonition, but it quickly passed. He took my hand and made me spin for him. “Dammit, Madeline—You take my breath away, beautiful.” His chest was heaving and his voice was raspy. For once, I believed him.
He looked absolutely delicious in his tux. I let out a nervous breath and squeezed his hand. “This is it.” Never in a million years did I think that I’d ever be going to the James Beard Awards, much less as a nominee.
And certainly not with Luca DeRossi as my boyfriend.
He kissed my forehead and reached inside his tuxedo jacket, pulling out a small box. “I, uh, I got something for you.”
There was no mistaking the teal box or the iconic white ribbon that went around it. “Luca—”
“Just open it.”
I untied the ribbon carefully. Obviously, I was going to save it. I pulled the top off and gently traced my finger around the gold bracelet. The metal had been twisted and tied into a knot in the middle and a little charm with the letter L was hooked on the knot. I looked up at him with wide eyes, “Luca, this is too much. The—the trip, the dress, all of it.”
He just chuckled and shook his head like he always did. “One time I was in Tokyo and the owner of the restaurant I was eating at came and talked to me and my buddy, Isaac, for a minute. He showed me a picture of his wife and told me how they met. The two of them kept trying to run from each other, but life had a way of throwing them back together. He told me about this myth about a man who lives on the moon and comes out at night to search the Earth and unite two people who are meant to be together. When he finds them, he ties them together with a thread so that they will eventually find their path to each other. Some peoples’ strings are short, and some are long. Some find their person right away and for others it takes a long time.” Luca took the bracelet out of the cushioned box and slipped it around my wrist. “I like to think that my string is tied to you.”
Oh no. Oh God.
Oh, no, no, no. Luca was making my heart race like a hummingbird who drank an energy drink. I swallowed the lump in my throat and gingerly touched the bracelet with my finger. I finally mustered the courage to whisper a contrite, “Thank you.”
Luca grinned and bent down to kiss my cheek. He took my hand and led me to the door. “You ready for this?”
✽✽✽
“Remember what I did to you last night?” Luca whispered as we stood on the red carpet and posed for the cameras. My cheeks flushed with heat. Did I ever. Luca’s friend, Isaac, flew into the city for business, and since they hadn’t seen each other in forever, he joined us for dinner and drinks at Luca’s flagship restaurant. When Isaac left with a woman he met at the bar and we finally stumbled back into Luca’s apartment, he nearly shredded the outfit I was in, laid me out on his kitchen island, and devoured me like he was a starving man.
“I don’t think this is the best place for that conversation,” I mumbled, trying my best not to move my lips too much.
“I’m just teasing you, Tesoro,” he grinned as he shifted his weight and turned slightly, giving the photographers a different angle. “I like seeing you get nervous.”
I let out a shaky breath and turned in toward him. “You don’t have to tease me to get me nervous. I’m three seconds from beelining for the bar.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about. You look stunning, Maddie.” It wasn’t often that Luca actually called me Maddie. Usually it was Tesoro, beautiful, or Madeline—not that I minded any of those, but hearing him call me Maddie put me a little more at ease with the whole situation. Time spent on the red carpet moved at a snail’s pace. When I started to get antsy, Luca turned to me, put his finger under my chin, and tilted it up just enough to give me a modest kiss. The photographers went ballistic. He slid his hand down to my lower back and led me off the carpet and into the theater.
Lincoln Center was packed out. Everywhere I turned, I was starstruck. I was actually breathing the same air as chefs I had idolized for decades. A baldheaded man in a dark burgundy suit strutted toward us with a grin on his face. “DeRossi, it’s about time you popped out from wherever it is you’ve been hiding.” His accent was thick. If I had to guess, I’d peg him as Australian or maybe South African.
“Aiden, my man,” Luca grinned as he shook his hand. “What’s it been? A year since we saw each other?”
Holy shit. Luca was talking to Aiden Crawford. His eyes landed on me and I felt sweat prick at the back of my neck. Aiden Crawford was as influential as they came. He was a food critic with a penchant for making or breaking careers. Usually I hated anyone who called themselves a critic or influencer, but Aiden was a successful chef and restaurateur as well. He knew his stuff. “And who is this lovely lady?”
Luca smiled down at me and said, “This is Chef Madeline Dorsey. She was kind enough to let me be her date tonig
ht.”
“Ah, yes—I’ve heard wonderful things about you, Chef Dorsey. Revanche, right?”
I nodded and stammered out, “Um, yes. I’m the pastry chef.”
Aiden gave me a broad smile and let out a bellowing laugh, “I know. I’m planning a trip down south so I can see whether or not the hype is true.”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, but miraculously, I kept my wits about me. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crawford.” He disappeared into the crowd, but when I turned back to Luca, he was nowhere to be found. Before I could even think to panic, a tall woman in a sleek gray dress slinked up to me.
“Chef Dorsey, good to see you again,” she smiled. “Celeste Montgomery—we met a few months ago when I came to Revanche to interview Luca DeRossi.”
“Oh, yes. Nice to see you again.” I eyed the slim tape recorder in her hand and pursed my lips.
Celeste followed my line of sight and let out a quiet laugh, “Don’t worry, it’s not on. This is off the record.”
“Oh,” I smiled as I let out a sigh of relief.
“You must be excited. Up for Outstanding Pastry Chef and Luca is up for Outstanding Restaurateur. It’s practically unheard of for the same establishment to have more than one nomination.”
I almost apologized or downplayed the significance of the nominations, but Luca’s words echoed in my mind. Take up the space you deserve. “I’ve worked hard to build the pastry program at Revanche. It’s an honor to have that recognized.”
Celeste smiled, “Well said.” She looked around, “Who is Luca here with tonight?”
I pursed my lips to keep from saying something incredibly stupid like, back the hell off, bitch. “He’s actually—”
Before I could finish, Luca appeared at my side. He slid his arm around my waist and gave me a peck on the cheek. “There you are, Tesoro. Sorry, I got pulled away.”
Celeste nodded, “Luca, I was just talking to Chef Dorsey about your respective nominations. Congratulations, that’s an impressive accomplishment.”
Luca pulled me into his side, “Awards are great, but finally convincing this lovely woman to give me a shot is a thousand times better.”
Celeste bowed out gracefully and Luca took my hand and let me to our seats. “Laying it on a little thick there, DeRossi,” I said when we were settled in the front of the theater. “Next time I’ll wear a sign that says I’m with Luca just to make it easier.”
Luca draped his arm across the back of my seat and leaned down. “One day you will realize just how extraordinary you are, and you’ll understand that being your man is a privilege that I don’t take for granted.” Swoon.
The awards ceremony began and one after one, the winners of each category were called out. Luca won Outstanding Restaurateur and I couldn’t help but smile. He looked at me from the stage when he was awarded his medal and gave his acceptance speech. When he walked off the stage and back to his seat, he leaned in and gave me a kiss before sitting down. Was it possible that the man I once thought was Satan incarnate was actually a pixie dust covered unicorn of a man? He was magic and being with him made me feel magical too.
The event began to wind down and when the only awards left were Outstanding Chef and Pastry Chef, I started to get nervous. Luca gave my hand a squeeze and brought it to his lips, giving me a kiss on the back of my hand for good luck.
“And the winner of the James Beard Award for Outstanding Pastry Chef is—”
I held my breath and squeezed his hand.
“Chef Madeline Dorsey of Revanche in Beaufort, North Carolina.”
“Oh my God.” I sat anchored in my seat. Luca jumped to his feet with the rest of the theater and applauded me. He reached down and took my hand, helping me up. I threw my arms around him and whispered into his ear, “I did it.”
Luca laughed and squeezed me tight, “You fucking did it, Mad.”
I don’t remember walking to the stage to accept the award. I don’t remember a damn thing I said into the microphone, but Luca said it was great. I just remember walking back to my seat with the medal around my neck, and beaming from ear to ear. I was on cloud fucking nine.
“I’m so damn proud of you,” he grinned when I finally sat back down. There was no one else around at that moment. It was just me and Luca. He slid his hand around the side of my neck and stroked the base of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. “I love you, Madeline.”
I leaned my cheek into his hand and closed my eyes. I was shaking with excitement and he was the only thing keeping me grounded.
These were the moments in life that I wished things were different. I wished that my mom was here. I wished my dad was different. I wished I had a sister or a brother to tell me congratulations—that they were proud of me. I wished that I would never have to sleep alone again. I wished for someone to share the burden of caring for my mom—for someone to share the stress of making Revanche a success. I wanted someone who would stick it out. Someone who I could trust to leave and actually come back.
I opened my eyes and saw that person staring back at me, beaming from ear to ear.
“I’m proud of us,” I said.
Luca wrapped his arm around my shoulder and rested his other hand on top of mine. As the award ceremony wrapped up, Luca and I got pulled in different directions. People I didn’t even know were handing me business cards and giving me job offers. It was absolute madness.
Work here in NYC.
Come to San Antonio.
We’re opening a restaurant in San Diego. We want you.
How do you feel about
St. Louis?
Call me.
Send me an email with your salary requirements.
Let’s have lunch in Miami. Let me know when works best for you.
By the time I found Luca again, my head was spinning, and my clutch was full of cards with phone numbers and email addresses. Luca guided me through the crowd to the waiting car. I pulled the train of my dress in behind me so that Luca could sit down. When he closed the door, I let out an exasperated breath. The second the car pulled away from the curb, Luca ruined my lipstick.
His lips were on mine, slow and steady. His tongue breached my lips and invaded every sense with long, languid strokes. His big hands cradled my jaw as he soaked in the taste of me. When we finally broke apart, he kept an arm around me and tucked me safely into his side, gently stroking my arm with his thumb. We were quiet on our walk inside. He opened the door for me and flipped on the lights before loosening his tie. His hand never left my body.
Luca guided me into the bedroom and stood in front of me as he slowly lowered the zipper on the side of my dress. I felt the bodice open and fall away. Luca took my hands and helped me step out of the gown. His gaze skated down my body—From my bare breasts to my black thong edged in lace. Luca reached up and pulled the two gold pins out of my hair and gently worked his fingers through my waves to loosen them. I let out a little moan of delight. His hands felt like magic and the stress melted away.
He shed his jacket and slid his belt out of the loops. With every button of his shirt that he undid, Luca took a step forward, backing me up against the bed. He pulled his dress shirt off and tossed it on the floor. I laid back on the mattress. His tattoos rippled as he braced his arms on either side of my head. The restrained power was intense. I could see the desire building behind his eyes like a volcano about to explode. He was a predator, and I was his prey.
I needed it. I needed him to ravage me, ruin me, and wreck me. I needed to feel used. Luca loved too hard. It was too much for me—I knew I wouldn’t survive it. I needed him to dominate my body for his pleasure. That’s what had kept me grounded all these months—I needed his aggression in the bedroom to balance his tender words. “Luca,” I whimpered as I reached up and trailed my fingertips down his sleeves of tattoos. “Take me.”
I liked that he kept them hidden. I liked that it was this little secret that separated the Luca that the world got to see and the Luca who love
d me.
He straddled my hips and bent in half, giving me a sultry kiss. It was soft and intentional and I felt a tear prick at the back of my eyelid. I needed it hard and fast. I needed him to be a selfish bastard. I needed to hold on to a little bit of hate because I knew that as soon as I let it go, I’d be his. Completely and utterly his.
“Not tonight,” He said in a gruff murmur. “Tonight, I’m gonna worship you, Tesoro.”
No. No, no, no. I couldn’t take it. “Please, Luc—”
“That’s right,” he mumbled as he kissed a path from my jaw to the crook of my neck. “Just you and me, beautiful. Just Luke and Maddie.”
33
———
LUCA
Maddie was quiet on the trip to Brooklyn. She had been ever since we got home from the awards last night. She was especially quiet after I gave her a handful of orgasms and then pulled her close and held her afterward. I tried not to let it get to me, but as she said a long time ago, never underestimate the power of silence.
I wondered if this was too much, too fast. It was a good thing she didn’t know I’d be moving into a house that I now owned in Beaufort when we got back. Part of me was beginning to think that maybe that was a mistake.
I couldn’t get enough of Maddie yesterday. Every time I’d get pulled away for an interview or to talk to an acquaintance, I found myself looking around for her, missing the feel of her beside me. Never in my life had I been like that with a woman. I had to touch her constantly, like she was the only thing holding me on to this earth. I stretched my arm across the back of the passenger’s seat and gently played with the loose braid she had her hair in.
Maddie looked fucking adorable. When we got back to North Carolina, it would still be blistering hot, but late September in New York meant that fall had arrived. She put on a loose sweater, some ripped up jeans, and a pair of light brown ankle boots that put her almost at my height. I fingered the soft knit fabric and gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be nervous. They’re gonna love you.”
