by Mandy Rosko
Martina cleared her throat, her cheeks a little pink, though she was smiling. “Let me check on the dinner arrangements.”
“Thank you, Martina,” Arturo said.
Isla waited, standing in her own frozen mortification and hardly able to move until Martina was out of the foyer.
Arturo looked at her, tilted his head slightly to the side, and then burst out laughing.
“Shut up!” She shoved Arturo’s shoulder. “That’s not funny!”
“Yes, it is,” he said, then sighed heavily. “Oh, God, that was gold. I wish I was recording that.”
“Great.”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” As he looked at her, the smile turned into something calmer, even as his eyes danced.
“Hard not to be after that.” Though if she was honest, Arturo’s smile was infectious. The situation had been kind of funny. “You really like my legs, huh?”
Arturo shrugged, clearly pretending to be nonchalant all of a sudden. “Yeah, I suppose so, and this is one of the few times, since that first time in Baciami when you told me to fuck off, that I was ever able to really admire your legs. You’ve got really nice calves.”
She didn’t know what made her feel better about that. The fact that Arturo thought she had good-looking legs, or that he’d been admiring her legs back before she was even aware of him.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him how long he’d been admiring her legs before finally coming up to her when something occurred to her. “Wait a minute. We’re going to be late.”
“No, we’re not.”
“What are you talking about, it’s…”—she pulled up her phone from her clutch purse—“it’s five minutes to seven!”
“Your parents are coming here.”
“What?” Isla looked up at him. “They are?”
“Sam is picking them up and bringing them here.”
“Why here?”
“Why not here?”
She had no answer to that. “Oh, well, I don’t know. But really, why here?”
Arturo rolled his eyes and briefly looked up at the ceiling. “To be honest, it was the only place I could think of that they hadn’t eaten yet, and the food here is five star.”
He looked to his left and lifted the thick curtain so he could glance out at the front, waiting for Sam to arrive with her parents.
“Are you nervous?”
Arturo dropped the curtain and stared at her. “What?”
Isla smiled wide. “You’re nervous!”
He straightened his jacket. “You wish. Your parents aren’t exactly the most frightening people I’ve ever gone up against.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. “Uh-huh, I get that. I know, but you’re still nervous.”
“No, I’m not,” he said quickly, and then turned back to look out the window when he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up.
“They’re here,” he said, and then went to the door.
Isla wondered if he went to the door so briskly because it looked better if he was the one to greet her parents at the door, or if he forgot that one of his staff was supposed to be the one to open it. At least, that’s what she assumed. Why else would Arturo keep so many employees if they weren’t supposed to open the door for him from time to time?
Together, they stepped out.
And her parents were definitely there. Sam had already opened the back door of the sleek limo to offer Isla’s mother his hand. She stepped out of the limo, looking up and around her, her eyes bright and a little on the wide side as she tried not to ogle the impressive home she was standing in front of.
She didn’t even seem to notice that her own daughter was standing right there, looking at her and smiling. Arturo put his arm around Isla’s waist, pulling her just a touch closer.
It was a classical possessive move, but the good kind of possessive, the kind a man could get away with doing to a woman in front of her father because it implied a sense of unity. It made her and Arturo look like a team, and not like they were just doing it so Isla could give her parents and her grandfather the company back.
Her mother pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. She wasn’t dressed in anything formal, but a lovely summer dress that she might wear to one of her garden parties, and her dark hair was done up in a loose bun. She still didn’t see Isla standing there.
When Isla’s father stepped out of the limo behind his wife, however, he clearly noticed Arturo and Isla standing there.
The look he sent Arturo should have melted him like only Superman’s laser eyes could have, if something like that was even possible.
Arturo didn’t even flinch, and Isla did her absolute best to smile through the vibe of annoyance she felt coming from her father.
“Sweetheart!” her mother called, finally noticing Isla standing right there. It was interesting watching the way her mother gave her father that irritated glance they all knew so well before she rushed around him and went to Isla.
Isla left Arturo’s side and bee-lined to meet her mother. In a second she was in her mother’s embrace. It felt like it had been years since she had hugged by her mother.
“Oh, how are you? I’m so happy to see you,” she said.
Isla’s father cleared his throat, stepping up to be beside his wife. “Yes, Adyline and I have been curious about this new romance of yours.”
Isla tried not to smile when she watched her mother nudge her father in the ribs, and then in turn, watch as he made an effort to pretend she hadn’t.
Arturo stepped up beside Isla, and the feeling of his hand around her waist, and that thrill and warmth that came with it, returned.
At least her mother made an attempt to be cordial when Arturo appeared. “You must be Arturo.”
“I am, Mrs. King. It’s good to meet you,” he said, and then held out his hand for her mother to shake.
Isla’s mother smiled as she did so, though there was clearly still some curiosity in her eyes. She was looking at Arturo and Isla like she was still trying to decide if this was real.
This was what Isla was most worried about. Not her father’s irritation and anger over Arturo’s supposed mistreatment of her, but of her mother. She was weirdly good at looking at any and all of Isla’s boyfriends and telling how invested they were in the relationship.
That was a scary power for her mother to have. It made everything seem weird all the time. Isla was probably more nervous about this than Arturo was.
“Mr. King,” Arturo said, greeting her father and holding out his hand to him.
She swore her father only shook his hand because just standing there and staring at the offered hand would show Arturo had some sort of power over him. Like how angry and annoyed he was that Arturo had still gone through with the takeover, even after his father had been removed from the company and put into prison, and how he was now banging his daughter on top of it all.
Her dad thought complicated thoughts like that.
“Mr. Calendri, I have to admit, I didn’t think we’d be coming here to eat.”
Arturo smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. Isla had to look away from that smile because it was making her stupid heart flutter.
“I thought it would be a little more personal,” Arturo said. “Hungry?”
* * *
They made their way back into the house and through the vast hallways. Arturo spoke about the paintings on the walls, which Isla had never paid much attention to before now, as well as his brothers, their health, even Sebastian to a degree, but only good things.
As good as he could say, considering Sebastian was… well, the way he was.
Then they made it into the dining room, which had been made up just as well, or even better, than when Isla had eaten here with Arturo. There were candles on the table, short ones, not the tall ones. Those would be too romantic. The short candles were kept in small glass fish bowls with beads. They were the centerpieces, along with the brightest flowers, which were red, yellow, blue,
and orange.
There was a fire in the fireplace, but the dining room was bright. It wasn’t being lit only with the fire and the candles. The aura was friendly, not sexy. Isla hoped her father was noticing that.
Even though Jeffery and Robert were standing in the dining room, bottles of champagne at the ready, Arturo was the one who pulled out Isla’s mother’s chair first and then Isla’s chair.
Of course, he left her father to do that on his own.
Arturo seemed to be speaking more for her mother’s sake. He really knew how to win over a woman’s mother. He kept the conversation light, on neutral topics or on family. The worst thing he had to say about Sebastian was that he was going through a rough patch. It wasn’t until he started talking about Martina that Isla knew her mother had been won over.
That was it. Game over. Arturo, a rich and handsome billionaire was speaking about a member of the staff as though she had given birth to him. Even though the tragedy of what happened to his real mother was never brought up, Isla could practically see the gears in her head turning. She knew what her mother was thinking.
This poor boy only needs a mother to take care of him and a woman to love him.
That was probably word for word, too. Isla could almost see it being spelled out as her mother looked over at her, her eyes sparkling.
Jeffery poured the champagne, and Robert silently pulled in a metal trolley with salad on it.
Everything was scooped onto their plates, and Isla thought this felt even more like being in a high-end restaurant than being in an actual restaurant.
Her mother seemed to be having the time of her life, getting to know Isla’s new boyfriend and asking more about Arturo’s brothers, while her father seemed to be sitting silently, searching for the opening he needed to attack.
It would have been nice that he was looking for something to attack Arturo on, and not her mother, but Isla didn’t want any fighting between anyone.
“So, how did the two of you meet each other?” her mother asked as the dessert came in.
Isla looked up just before her spoon of frozen… whatever this was, could reach her mouth. “How we met?”
Her mother continued to smile that wide, eager smile, probably not even really knowing what it was that she asked.
It wasn’t like in the movies. The soft sounds around them didn’t stop. The clatter of plates continued as Jeffery gathered up the dishes from their main course and prepared to take them away. The fire still crackled, and Isla could even hear the wheels on the trolley as Robert rolled it away.
Arturo barely hesitated. “We met in one of your boutiques, when it was still open. My father sent me to scout the business, and I noticed her folding some fairly lacy looking things.”
He knew exactly what they’d been. He just wasn’t saying it in front of her father.
That seemed to be enough for her father, however, to look sharply at Arturo.
Arturo just stared back, not at all fazed by those kill-you-with-a-stare-eyes.
“You met her on the job, did you?”
“Yes, sir,” Arturo said with a nod. “And then she promptly told me to fuck off.”
That seemed to throw off her father a bit. He actually jerked his head back as though he’d been punched.
“Isla, did you actually say that?” her mother asked. She looked torn between being scandalized and vastly amused.
Isla felt her face grow warm. It probably gave off the impression that she was just so in love with Arturo that she was embarrassed to recount the story, but that could also work in her favor.
“I did say that,” she admitted. “To be honest, I didn’t really like him the first time I met him.”
“And now?” her father asked.
Isla glanced over at Arturo, noting the way he was looking at her.
“Ah, well, I’d say he’s growing on me.”
33
The rest of dinner went surprisingly smooth. Her father didn’t say too much, and he glared and scowled even less. It was probably because he’d just heard about how his daughter had told Arturo, the favorite son of his rival, to fuck off. Isla was willing to bet all of her best jewelry designs that was the reason.
What else could it be?
Looking back on it, it did sort of make for a funny dinner story. It showed her father that his daughter had some balls, for one thing, which worked out as far as he was concerned. It also gave her mother a few romantic ideas about her daughter and the new boyfriend, which also benefited this story Isla and Arturo were spinning.
Isla didn’t have any false ideas that her father would be upset when he found out that she and Arturo broke up, but she was starting to get worried her mother might actually be a little on the heartbroken side when it came time for Isla to reveal they were no longer dating. She was starting to give Arturo dreamy glances.
Oh, well. It was adorable how her mother was crushing on her fake boyfriend, but she’d get over it. Her father was still a handsome man, and this might help bring the two of them back together. He would comfort his wife sufficiently, while at the same time grumbling threatening things about Arturo that would get any other man thrown into prison in this day and age.
And when Isla got the business back for them, everything would fall into place just as Isla wanted it to. The fact that they were together right now, with no signs or hints of bitterness between them, got Isla’s heart thrumming.
It almost felt like the way things used to be.
When the dessert plates were taken away, coffee and alcohol was offered. This was something that Isla could tell impressed her father. He was a man who enjoyed the best whiskies. It was one of the stereotypes about rich men that her father fell into.
She carefully watched the way her father spoke with Arturo, and was on edge every second, thinking that someone would eventually mention Baciami The men spent their time talking about business practices instead. It was a subject that came a little too close to Baciami for Isla’s comfort, but both men seemed at ease with the topic. They discussed the weather, favorite cars, and Arturo even made mention of some of his plans for the company now that his “asshole father” was out of the picture.
Mentioning Arturo’s father seemed to shock Isla’s own dear old daddy enough that he could only nod his head as he swirled his drink.
“I see,” he said, and then said nothing else.
The air around them was awkward for only a minute before the conversation started back up. Her mother asked more questions about Arturo’s brothers, still clearly trying to get a feel for how family oriented he was, and soon, even all that came to an end.
It was nearly midnight by the time her father got to his feet and declared it was about time for him to take his wife home.
Isla released a heavy breath she’d hardly realized she’d been holding. Only her mother seemed to notice.
It must have been something of a guy thing that happened next, because even though Isla could still tell how much her father was still barely tolerating Arturo, they walked together several feet ahead of the women.
Her mother leaned in to whisper, “He seems like a nice young man.”
Isla bit her lip to keep from laughing at that. “When you say that, it makes you sound kind of old.”
“Hmm, don’t make me mess up your pretty hair because I will smack the back of your head if you’re not careful.”
“Right.” She said, hardly threatened by the warning, but still knowing that her mother would follow through if Isla annoyed her too much. She whispered back, “So, you really like him?”
“I do,” her mother replied, nodding and looking a little thoughtful as they both stared at the backs of their respective men. “I have to admit, your father had me worried. I wasn’t sure I would like him, but now it’s different.”
Both Arturo and her father seemed to be heatedly whispering about something.
“What changed your mind?” she asked softly.
“It’s the way he looks at you. H
aven’t you noticed it?” her mother asked, sounding a little incredulous that Isla had to ask, and that she might not have noticed something like that herself.
She’d seen Arturo give her a couple of interesting looks before, usually right before he was about to lay into her like a champion, and, well, sure, she’d noticed a couple of sideways glances while they ate dinner.
That was just for show. Arturo was an excellent businessman. He knew how to look like he was interested in any proposals that were being offered to him. He also knew how to sell what he no longer needed. The fact that he might be looking at Isla with a warm affection didn’t mean it was real, and Isla wasn’t about to get her hopes up on anything like that.
“I guess I hadn’t noticed,” she said. Why was her face heating up like this? This wasn’t a big deal and there was no reason for her to be blushing.
Fuck! She wished it would stop.
Her mother, the angel of a woman, didn’t say anything about the sudden heat in the hallway, however. She just smiled and nodded. “All right, but you really should pay better attention.”
“Right,” Isla said, turning away and scratching the side of her cheek. She was still willing the heat in her face and neck to go down when her mother took her by the arm.
“Give them a minute, sweetheart. I think they want to talk.”
“What?”
Isla looked up and took note of the way Arturo and her father were speaking to each other.
More like the way her father was speaking to Arturo. She had only ever seen her father with a look like that on his face, so scowly and filled with all kinds of warning, whenever he was on the phone and someone had fucked up on a deal.
He didn’t exactly jam his pointer finger into Arturo’s chest, but his finger was pointing all right. As though that was where it was most happiest being, it pointed while Isla’s father proceeded to embarrass her by, most likely, threatening Arturo’s personal safety if he so much as hurt his baby girl.
