by Lucia Black
“What makes you say that?” His knee grazed mine once, twice, before he left his leg nearly flush against mine. I didn’t move away.
“Just look at you. That hair, those eyes, the fit of that shirt. It doesn’t scream bookish.” The words come out before I can stop them. My brain was screaming at me again to stop. The message was received all too late.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, Tessa.” He laughed. “But in all honesty, I love to read. I’ve acquired quite an impressive library over the years.” Preston let his hand casually rest on top of mine on top of the bar. “I’d love to show it to you.”
I stood at a precipice, and if I let Preston’s advances go too far, I would never come back from it. I no longer lived in a world where I could do whatever I wanted; I had a promise to keep to my family. I had a job to do and I couldn’t forget that.
“I don’t think so.”
I pushed away from the bar and left Preston standing there. His invitation to get to know him was too tempting and if I stayed much longer I would’ve given in to it. I wanted to give in.
I made my way back out to the lobby to find Jimmy sitting on one of the plush chairs playing on his phone.
“Oh, hey, I . . . I didn’t realize it was time. Are ready to go? I’ll bring the car to the front,” he said when he finally saw me.
“Are you parked in the garage?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because I need you to fuck me as soon as possible.”
Chapter 4
Sunday was always for family dinners.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Mama,” I said in Italian.
“I wanted to make all your favorites.” She placed a platter of manicotti on the overly full table. “Your father says we have a lot to celebrate.”
I finished filling the last glass of table wine and passed it to my oldest brother, Giovanni.
Between my four older brothers and all the food at the hearty dining room table, there was scarcely room for another morsel.
There used to be room for more, though. There used to be a whole other person in our family. We still made space for her at the table; the empty seat next to me proof of that.
“We do,” my father says.
He sat at the head of the table dressed in a shirt and tie like he might have business to attend to any moment. He probably did. My mother already made up his plate for him, serving him first, as always. As soon as he took his first bite, Mama and I took our seats and my brothers started helping themselves to the feast on the table. The waiting for our father to go first was just a simple sign of respect.
“Yeah,” Luca, my second oldest brother said around a mouth full of meatball. “I heard you finally took a night off of studying and nun work to do something good for the family.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Alessandro beat me to it. “If by ‘nun work’ you mean Tessa volunteering her time at shelters and hospitals, she does do that for the family. And, you know, for the good of mankind and all that.”
“Thank you.” I blew him a kiss from the other side of the table. He mimicked catching it and placed it on his cheek with his palm, never too old to play along with our childhood games. I couldn’t help but smile.
Alessandro was the youngest of my brothers, but only by two minutes. Antonio was born just before him. They were identical, but all four of my brothers could pass for quadruplets. Or more accurately, they were like clones of our father. Dark hair with matching dark eyes and deep olive skin; we all had those traits, but it was the strong jawlines, prominent noses, and fierce confidence that made them all the same.
“I couldn’t be prouder of my Mari,” my father said. “She brings me a great deal of joy every day, but last night she went above and beyond. Cal called me this morning to sing your praises. Didn’t he, Gianna?”
My parents had their hands clasped on top of the table as they ate. Even after all these years, and all the hardships of Papa’s work, they were still sweet to each other. For a fleeting second, a great sadness took hold of me and clawed at my throat. I would never have that. Not for real, anyway. It would always be rehearsed. Fake.
“He did,” my mother agreed. “He said the most wonderful things about you and how beautiful you looked last night. I wish we could’ve been there to see you.” She glanced at my father. “I hate missing these kinds of things.”
Papa’s expression hardened, not wanting to see his love even a little upset. “I know.” He squeezed her hand. “But this is how it must be done. We have to keep our distance publicly. If anyone found out Cal has ties to the family outside the foundation, this would all be over.”
“I know.” She nodded, mostly to herself, almost as if she were giving herself an inner pep talk. “I just wish I could be a part of my daughter’s love life. I won’t get another chance.”
My mother was beautiful. Like a fine wine, she had been aging with grace and style. If my brothers are our father’s clones, I am my mother’s. I hoped my looks held up even half as good as hers.
“It’s not love, Mama. It’s just business.” Even I would be missing my love life, but I couldn’t tell them that.
“I got to see the pictures of last night in the paper. Luca, run and get the paper for me, will you?” my mother said as if she knew she needed to change the course of conversation.
“Sure.” Luca dashed off into the kitchen and pulled the stack of papers off the counter. He let out a low whistle as his gaze scanned the page. “All the clothes you have and that’s what you chose to wear?” He held up the paper for all to see. “You can do better than that.”
“Let me see.” Giovanni snatched the paper out of his hand and studied it. “Yep,” he agreed. “You look like trash. You have to step it up or Cal will call the whole thing off.”
I knew he was trying to goad me into a fight, but holding my tongue was not an easy thing.
“I don’t normally take fashion advice from someone with marinara all over their shirt.”
He glanced down to his expensive designer T-shirt. The pale blue color was dotted with specks of rich vermillion. He tried to wipe it away with his hand, but of course, that did nothing to help.
Luca, Alessandro, and Antonio erupted into a fit of laughter. Even my father tried to hide his smile behind his glass of wine. I savored the feeling of getting to be the one who made them laugh like that.
“It doesn’t matter what you think, Gio,” Papa said after the laughter died down. “When Cal called, he said he’d like to set up another meeting so you two can start dating publicly. His assistant will get in contact with you later this evening to set up a day. Please make it sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, Papa.”
Giovanni set the newspaper aside and I picked it up. I hadn’t even thought to check the papers to see if we made a headline. The photo took up nearly a quarter of the page. It was taken while we were dancing, and even I had to admit we both looked smitten. It seemed all my worry was for nothing. I played the part exactly right last night.
Well, except for the Preston incident.
“Eat,” Mama told everyone. “I didn’t make all this food for nothing.”
The ride from upstate back to the city was almost like jumping galaxies. As Jimmy drove, the houses changed from old family mansions with spacious manicured lawns, to stacked townhouses with yards the size of postage stamps, to skyscrapers without a tree in sight.
“How was dinner?” Jimmy asked.
“Good. It’s always good.”
“Hey, I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight. That new one where that pop star plays a hooker.” He took his hand off the steering wheel and placed it on my knee. “I heard there’s a killer sex scene between her and another girl.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I probably wouldn’t pay much attention to it anyway. I had papers to grade, and my mind was elsewhere with everything that was going on.
My phone rang and it made me jump. The screen flashed an unknown number, but
I answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is Karen Tate, Mr. James’ assistant. Am I speaking to Tessa Moretti?”
I pushed Jimmy’s hand off my knee, suddenly concerned like someone could see us. “Yes.” I cleared my throat. “This is she.”
“Great. Mr. James is very busy, as I’m sure you’re aware, but he’d like to see you on Tuesday for dinner at The Bronze Room at seven. Does that work for you?”
It didn’t matter if I had plans or not, I had to accept either way. “Yes, that works for me.”
“Excellent. I will confirm the reservation. Do you need a car to pick you up?”
“No.” I glanced at Jimmy who seemed to be watching me as much as he’d been watching the road. “I have my own transportation.”
“Mr. James will see you then, Miss Moretti. Have a great evening.”
I ended the call and just like that, I had my ‘real’ first date with Cal. Calling it a date seemed like an overstatement. Did it really count as a date if it was made through his assistant in the same manner she’d set up a business meeting? Probably not.
I navigated to the calendar app on my phone to see if there was anything I needed to cancel, then added the date with Cal.
“What was that about?”
“I have a dinner-thing Tuesday night,” I said while still tapping on my phone.
“Like a date?”
“Like that’s any of your business?”
“Damn, Tessa. Watch the attitude.”
We were quiet for a few long moments. This was why none of my bodyguards lasted long. I was almost always the one who initiated sex, but they were always the ones who blurred the lines. This is why I needed to be mean and put distance between us.
We’d both be better off for it.
“Sorry. I just need to know your plans. That’s all. I’m your bodyguard.” I knew he was lying. He wanted to know because he wanted to keep me to himself.
“No matter what we have done in my bed, Jimmy, you’re not my boyfriend. You need to remember that.”
I was grateful that he dropped it and we drove the rest of the way in silence.
Chapter 5
After nearly forty minutes of hearing myself speak, I started to tune myself out. I glanced up from my laptop screen at the glazed-over zombie stares of the class. I liked to think I normally held their attention.
“Okay, guys, I wanted to get this review in before the exam, but I think we’re all burned out. We’ll pick up where we left off come Thursday, and I’ll push the exam to next week.”
That woke them up. My announcement was met with various cheers and applause. They started filing out of the classroom so quickly you would have thought they were scared I’d change my mind and call them back in a matter of seconds.
“You’re the best, Miss M,” a student from the back yelled.
“I know.” I brought my hand to my chest in a show of exaggerated flattery. “And as always, don’t hesitate to email me with any questions.”
I packed my laptop and papers with lightning quick speed. The truth was I didn’t end class early and push back the exam for strictly altruistic purposes. The buzz on campus was Preston Fitzgerald was scheduled to have an open forum with the political science majors in the meeting room down the hall in less than twenty minutes. With my date with Cal looming overhead, I figured the last thing I needed was to run into Preston again.
I went out of my way to avoid the small Political Science auditorium, instead swiftly walking in the opposite direction of my destination so I didn’t even have to go near that end of the building. I didn’t mind the extra walk on campus. After I exited, I glanced over my shoulder to confirm my clean get away . . . and slammed directly into someone.
My laptop bag and papers went flying as I crashed to floor. The fall was mostly broken by a hard body.
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”
I scrambled to my feet and extended a hand to whomever I had just assaulted. He somehow beat me to my feet and extended his own hand to steady me. I accepted the offer as a familiar cologne filled my nose.
“There has to be an easier way for us to meet.”
Preston. Dane. Fitzgerald. Shit.
Despite my best efforts to avoid him, I ended up running head-first into him. Again.
“Are you okay? You’re not saying anything.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Yes. I’m fine.”
We stood motionlessly holding on to each other for a long moment. Those eyes, those piercing blue eyes. I couldn’t look away.
“Is your laptop okay?”
“Oh!” That broke the trance. I let go of his arm to retrieve my bag from the floor. I slid it out and checked the case and screen. It was crack free. “It’s fine. No worries. So, uh, what are you doing here?”
“I was supposed to have an open forum with a group of political science students, but it looks like it’s gotten more popular than they expected, so the department decided to move it to a larger auditorium.”
“Oh,” I said, not sure what else to say to him.
Preston took in my modest black pantsuit then studied the ID that hung from my neck. “So you teach at NYU . . .”
“Yes. I do.” I fidgeted with my low ponytail and brought it in front of my shoulder.
“Well?” He leaned against the wall in casual and cool move. He was dressed informally for his talk. He wore navy slacks and a maroon button up without a tie. It was a damn good look. “Did you just come from a class?”
“I did, yes.” Why couldn’t I think of more words?
“What were you teaching?”
I bit at my bottom lip and muttered, “Political science.”
There was a knowing smile on Preston’s face. He remembered. A shade of tension tinged the air. It was clear I, of all people, would’ve known he was coming. I didn’t want to tell him I was avoiding him. There was just no way to say I didn’t want to run into him without somehow hurting him.
If I didn’t say something, I was going to gnaw my lip off. “Right, so—”
“Look, I’m going to be honest with you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the fundraiser. You’re smart and beautiful and mysterious and all I’m asking for is one date.”
If I had to imagine the perfect compliment, what Preston said would’ve been it. “That’s very flattering, really, but you’re wrong. I’m not mysterious at all. What you see is what you get, and there is nothing more to know about me.”
Preston pushed off the wall and took a step closer. I didn’t move away even though I knew I should have. “Then can I get what I see right now?” His voice was low, almost like a growl, and it wasn’t lost on me how his gaze kept traveling from my eyes to my lips.
I swallowed. Hard. “Preston, I can’t do that.”
“Okay.” He put his hands up in defeat. “You don’t have to agree to dinner. That’s an hour-long commitment, at least. How about a drink? That can last as long or as short as you want.”
“Preston⸻”
“And think about it, Moretti. I’ve seen you drink. And I’ve seen you throw your champagne all over my suit jacket. And I’d happily do that again if it meant you said yes. If that doesn’t tell you how interested I am, nothing will.”
I laughed as my hand moved to his chest. “I will get that dry cleaned for you. I promise.”
“We can forget it when we go get that drink,” he said.
“I don’t want to say no.” All on their own, my fingers slowly splayed across the plains of his solid chest.
“Then don’t.”
He moved closer again, leaving nearly nothing between us but my hand and my paper-thin resolve.
“It’s far more complicated than I can even begin to explain.”
Preston’s hand fell to my waist and rested on my hip in a feather light touch. I leaned into him, wanting so much more.
“Try me. I think I can catch up.”
“If you knew what I
know, you’d know it isn’t a good idea.”
“For you? I think I’d be willing to make a few bad decisions.”
His words raced across my skin leaving a trail of fire. I wanted to melt into him.
“You have too much to lose to do that.”
I suddenly staggered back, realizing our close position and my hand on his chest. I was treading in dangerous waters, and I didn’t want to stop. But I had to.
“See.” Preston laughed. “I told you. You’re mysterious. I hardly even understand what you just said.”
A small, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “All you need to understand is that this can’t happen.”
“Okay.” He nodded and his blond hair swayed with the movement. “But if you change your mind.” He pulled a sleek black business card out of his pocket so smoothly it could’ve passed for a sleight of hand trick. “Call me.”
I took the card and studied it.
Preston cleared his throat. “And if I wanted to call you . . .”
He waited for me to give him my number, but I couldn’t. Whatever was happening between us needed to be squashed more than a buzzing fly in a bakery. If I gave him my number I knew he’d use it—and if he called me and asked me out again, I feared I wouldn’t have had the strength to turn him down again.
“Preston,” someone shouted from down the hall. I turned to see a news anchor and camera crew approaching. “I’m so happy I found you. They told me you’d be somewhere else.”
“Hello, Dana.” Preston smiled in greeting, but I could tell it was his public persona now, and not the man who had been looking at me. “I didn’t know the press would be coming today.”
“Well.” Dana attached a mic to her ivory suit jacket. “You’re big news right now, Mr. Fitzgerald. And I don’t want to miss a minute of your rise to the White House.”
Dana’s companions got to work, attaching a mic to Preston’s shirt and setting up a camera on a tripod.
