Seduced by the Tycoon at Christmas

by Pamela Yaye

  What am I doing wrong? he thought, wiping his damp face with the sleeve of his football jersey. What do I have to do to get through to Zoe? To make her see that I’m an upstanding guy? He couldn’t shake the feeling that Lizabeth had screwed him over. She took pleasure in hurting him, seemed to get off on making him suffer. He’d known from the very beginning that the Norwegian model was spoiled and high-strung. After years of her diva-like behavior, he’d had enough. Initially, he’d been shocked when she’d called off their engagement, but deep down he’d been relieved. Dating Lizabeth had been mentally, physically and emotionally draining. Romeo would rather be celibate for the rest of his life than take his ex back.

  For the second time in minutes, an image of Zoe filled his mind, and his thoughts returned to yesterday. He’d called Casa Di Moda to ask her out and ended up talking to Aurora instead. He’d been bummed to find out Zoe was in Florence for a photo shoot, but he enjoyed shooting the breeze with her boss. Eager to help, the fashion designer promised to talk to Zoe on his behalf and encouraged him to visit Casa Di Moda whenever he was in the neighborhood.

  Romeo had to see Zoe. She was all he could think about, and he wanted to spend time with her. To stay connected to her, he followed her on social media, and seeing the pictures she’d posted that morning made Romeo desire her more than ever.

  “I’m glad you talked me into coming down here today,” Enrique said, opening the cooler. “I’ve had a hell of a week, and playing football with the guys is the ultimate stress reliever.”

  Starving after their marathon game, Romeo headed straight for the barbecue pit. The savory aroma in the air caused his stomach to grumble. Grabbing a metal serving spoon and a paper plate, Romeo filled it with the mouthwatering foods his friends had grilled for lunch.

  Romeo sat down at a picnic table to eat. Everything was hot, seasoned to perfection, and he savored each and every bite. Pressed for time, he hadn’t had anything for breakfast that morning, so he thoroughly enjoyed his first meal of the day. His friends cracked jokes and teased each other, and their hearty laughter created a lighthearted mood in the picnic area.

  Enrique took the seat across from him. He was clutching his cell phone, and Romeo noticed his brother’s eyes darken and wondered if he was having business trouble again. A rival entertainment company had lured away his best employee weeks earlier, and Enrique was still picking up the pieces of the executive’s sudden departure.

  “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”

  “It’s Isabelle...” Trailing off, he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “Lately, she’s been pulling away from me, and I don’t know why.”

  “Have you tried talking to her?”

  “Yeah, but we end up fighting about it, then she storms out,” he explained. “Last night, we got into it again, and Isabelle went to her parents’ place to cool off. I’ve texted her several times to find out when she’ll be home, but she hasn’t responded.”

  “Man, quit sweating her. She’ll come around, and if she doesn’t you can always find someone else. I like Isabelle, but she’s not the only beautiful woman in the world.”

  “I don’t want anyone else. I want Isabelle. She’s it for me, bro.”

  “Such devotion,” Romeo drawled. “You need to ease up. You’re trying too hard. You don’t want her to think you can’t live without her—”

  “I can’t. Isabelle is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I won’t lose her.”

  “Damn, bro, you’re gushing like a water fountain,” Romeo teased, wiping his fingers with a napkin. “You’re worse than Markos and Tatiyana, and they’re newlyweds!”

  “You don’t understand, because you haven’t met Mrs. Right yet, but when you do, you’ll move heaven and earth to make her happy.” Shrugging his shoulder, Enrique wore a sheepish smile. “I used to think Emilio and Immanuel were suckers for settling down and getting married. Now I can’t wait to make Isabelle my bride. What can I say? The love bug bit me in the ass, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it!”

  Chuckling, Enrique put his cell down on the wooden table and picked up his fork.

  “Are you still going to the Christmas and Cocktails event at the Armani Hotel Milano or have you changed your mind?” Romeo asked, reaching for his water bottle.

  “I don’t know. I was supposed to go with Isabelle...”

  “Don’t sweat it, bro. I’ll go with you. I love networking with smart, talented people.”

  “With curves, right?”

  “Absolutely. The curvier the better.”

  Laughing, the brothers bumped bottles, then guzzled down their drinks.

  “How are you feeling? Any chest pains, muscle spasms or dizzy spells as of late?”

  “No. I’m the picture of health. Doctor said so himself at my physical last month.”

  Romeo stared at the field, but he wasn’t watching the coed rugby game. He was thinking about Zoe. What else was new? It wasn’t every day he met a woman who piqued his interest. Just the thought of the vivacious PR director made an erection rise inside his Nike shorts.

  His cell phone rang, and he glanced down at the screen. Raising an eyebrow, he cocked his head to the right, surprised to see Aurora Bordellio’s name pop up on his phone. Why was the fashion designer calling him? Hope surged inside his heart. Was she with Zoe? Curious, he pressed the accept button and put his cell to his ear. “Hello, Mrs. Bordellio. How are you?”

  “Romeo, why are you being so formal? Please, call me Aurora.”

  “Sure,” he said, anxious to find out what she wanted. “What can I do for you?”

  “My husband and I are hosting a dinner party tonight, and we’d love if you could join us. I apologize for the short notice. We’ve been insanely busy the last few days.”

  “Thank you for the invitation, but I have plans with my brother tonight—”

  “Bring him with you!” Aurora offered, interrupting him. “Zoe’s really looking forward to seeing you tonight. Don’t tell her I told you this, but she has a huge crush on you.”

  His jaw dropped, but he asked the question circling his mind. “She does?”

  “Yes, of course. Isn’t it obvious? Zoe couldn’t take her eyes off of you at the after-party.”

  Really? Romeo thought, scratching his head. Then why is she playing hard to get?

  “Zoe’s the perfect woman for you,” she continued in a haughty tone of voice, as if she had the answers to all of life’s mysteries. “She’s sincere and loyal, and one of the most selfless women I know. Not to mention she’s a total bombshell.”

  Romeo stared down at his cell. Aurora was laying it on thick, trying to convince him to pursue Zoe, even though he was already interested in her—luckily, he was amused, not annoyed. He liked Aurora and Davide, and appreciated her unexpected dinner invitation. “What time is dinner?”

  Aurora hollered like a game show contestant who’d won the grand prize. “Seven o’clock,” she chirped. “I’ll text you our home address in the next few minutes.”

  “Sounds good. What should I bring for dinner?”

  “Nothing but that charming smile of yours. Ciao, Romeo. A presto!”

  Ending the call, Romeo told his brother about their plans for the evening. “After the Christmas and Cocktails event we’re going to a dinner party at Davide and Aurora Bordellio’s apartment.”

  Frowning, Enrique scratched at his square chin. “Who’s that?”

  Romeo hesitated, considered his options. If he told Enrique about his traffic accident, he’d ream him out for being distracted behind the wheel. Romeo wasn’t in the mood for one of his brother’s lectures. Still, he had to tell him something, and decided to come clean to his brother about the accident, Zoe’s unexpected arrival at his office hours later, the Amore in Tuscany movie premiere, and the disast
rous after-party at Milano Cocktail Bar starring Lizabeth.

  “All of that happened in one day?” Enrique asked, an awestruck expression on his face.

  “Crazy, right?”

  “Yeah, man, it is. And Zoe sounds like a spitfire. I can’t believe she ripped up a check for a hundred thousand euros, then threw it in your face. I’d take it, and I’m your brother!”

  Romeo picked up his cell, punched in his password and accessed the pictures on his phone. Pleased with the photographs he’d taken with Zoe at the after-party, he showed them to his brother. He then pulled up her FaceChat page and read some of her previous posts.

  Enrique whistled, and Romeo’s chest puffed up with pride.

  “Gorgeous, right?” Romeo said, scrolling through the photographs. “What a beauty.”

  Peering at the cell phone screen, Enrique tapped it with an index finger. “According to Zoe’s timeline, she won a cycling competition in June, hiked the Alps with one of her colleagues and is organizing a Christmas toy drive for a Milan orphanage. That’s impressive.”

  “I told you Zoe’s the total package. She’s everything a man could want, and more.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Why haven’t you wooed her with your wit and charm?”

  Romeo blew out a deep breath. “Because she won’t give me the time of day.”

  “Sucks to be you, huh?”

  “Tell me about it. I still feel guilty about the accident, and tried to make amends by giving Zoe gifts and money, but she refused. She accused me of trying to buy her silence, and when I saw her at the fashion house on Monday afternoon, she was ice cold—”

  “I don’t blame her. You think the worst of people, especially women. The older you get, the more pessimistic you are about life.”

  “Do you blame me? Every woman I’ve ever dated has screwed me.”

  “Quit looking over your shoulder at the past,” he admonished in a somber tone of voice. “Learn from the mistakes you made in your previous relationships, then move on. If you don’t, you’ll never have the love you deserve.”

  “You need to stop watching Telemundo novelas.” Romeo couldn’t keep a straight face and chuckled. “They’re making you soft and dramatic as hell!”

  Enrique chucked his empty beer can at Romeo, but he caught it with one hand, shot it toward the garbage and flashed a toothy grin when it dropped into the oversize bin.

  “What are you going to do about Zoe? Come correct or give up?”

  “Give up? Man, please.” Romeo raised a hand to his mouth, blew on his fingernails, then rubbed them on the sleeve of his orange jersey. “Ambitious is my middle name.”

  “Cool, so you have a plan? Something big in the works to impress her?”

  “Of course. I’m going to have flowers and Godiva chocolate delivered to her office tomorrow. When she calls to thank me I’ll convince her to have dinner with me.”

  Enrique scoffed. “No offense, bro, but you send flowers and candy to everyone.”

  “Since you fancy yourself a love doctor, what do you propose I do?”

  “Think outside the box. Do something different. Plan a date with her interests in mind,” he advised. “What does Zoe like? What does she do on her days off? Who’s her favorite band?”

  Good question, Romeo thought, drumming his fingers on the picnic table. Reflecting on the conversation they’d had at Milano Cocktail Bar, he remembered how excited she’d been discussing her plans for the holidays.

  Romeo coughed into his fist. Christmas was hard for him. Had been ever since his nephew Lucca had died. He couldn’t look at a gingerbread house without remembering all the times he’d built one with his adorable five-year-old nephew. Romeo wanted to create new memories with Zoe.

  Thinking about the holidays and all the fun events in and around the city, an idea took shape in his mind. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? He’d plan a romantic date for Zoe, and soon she’d be singing his praises. “Thanks, bro. I know just what to do.”

  “Good. I’ll send you my bill.” Chuckling, Enrique picked up his cell, swiped his finger across the screen, then sighed in relief. “Thank God. Isabelle finally texted me back.”

  “We should get going,” Romeo said, glancing at his smartwatch. “Christmas and Cocktails starts at five o’clock, which gives us thirty minutes to get ready, so let’s bounce.”

  Enrique stood, grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Count me out.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” Romeo asked, rising to his feet.

  “I need to bring my baby back home where she belongs. Isabelle’s going to Dolce Vita Milan to celebrate a colleague’s birthday. She’ll be leaving the celebrity hotspot at the end of the night on my arm. There’s no ifs, ands or buts about it.”

  Romeo clapped him on the shoulder. “What are you waiting for, bro? Go get your girl!”

  Chapter 9

  “Zoe, come here,” Aurora called from inside her cozy, wallpapered kitchen. Dipping a serving spoon into the metal pot on the stainless steel stove, she stirred the homemade stew with gusto. “I need you to try this and tell me what you think it’s missing.”

  Zoe glanced up from the CDs she was holding in her hands and stared at Aurora. Why me? she thought, her stomach churning in protest. I hate tortellini stew. Standing in front of the entertainment unit, riffling through Davide’s enormous music collection, Zoe decided to temporarily put her search for a Christmas CD on hold and put the discs on the glass coffee table. “Sure, Aurora, no problem. I’ll be right there.”

  Careful not to bump into anything, Zoe exited the living room. In walking distance of Casa Di Moda, the three-bedroom apartment had high ceilings and oversize windows that offered stunning views of the city center. Small but luxurious, it was packed with antique furniture, wooden sculptures and leafy plants. There were photographs everywhere—on the pale pink walls, on the bookshelves, along the kitchen countertops—and there were so many cushions on the couches, Zoe didn’t know where to sit down.

  The apartment reflected Casa Di Moda’s exuberant prints and colors, and seeing the fashion house logo painted above the fireplace reminded Zoe of all the paperwork waiting for her on her office desk. Tomorrow, after her trip to the market with Jiovanni, she’d stop at the fashion house and finalize the details for the Men of Milan calendar. Zoe wanted everything to be perfect for the Christmas promotion and was pumped about the upcoming photo shoot.

  “It smells delicious,” Zoe lied, taking the spoon into her mouth and tasting the thick brown liquid. “It needs oregano if you have it.”

  Chuckling, Davide nodded his head in agreement. “I told her the exact same thing five minutes ago, but she didn’t believe me. It’s my mother’s recipe. Go figure!”

  “Silenzo!” Aurora yelled, swatting her husband’s shoulder. “So cosa sto facendo!”

  “If you know what you’re doing then why does the tortellini taste like medicine?”

  Aurora slapped his shoulder, and Davide gave a hearty laugh.

  “You know you love me,” he joked, wrapping his arms around his wife’s trim waist.

  “Not as much as you love yourself!”

  Laughing, they snuggled against each other. Their display of affection made Zoe wish she had someone special in her life. Or at the very least, someone to hang out with on her days off. Zoe hugged her hands to her chest. It had been so long since she’d been intimate with a man she longed to be kissed and caressed.

  Yeah, by Romeo Morretti! shouted her inner voice.

  Swallowing hard, she cleared all thoughts of the bad-boy businessman from her mind. It didn’t work. The more she tried to bury them, the stronger they were. Like on Monday. Romeo arrived at the office for a private tour, and when she’d bumped into him in the hallway, he’d surprised her with a hug and a kiss on
each cheek. It was hard, but she’d kept her distance. Thankfully, she’d spoken to Lizabeth at the after-party and knew what his shtick was. How he got off on seducing women. Deep down, Zoe was flattered by his attention, but she wasn’t going to waste her time with a man who’d never commit to her.

  “Do you want me to set the table?” Zoe asked.

  Davide shook his head. “I got it. You’re in charge of the music, remember?”

  “We’re glad you’re here,” Aurora said. “It’s going to be an amazing night. I can feel it.”

  Zoe spotted an empty wine bottle beside the toaster and suspected her boss was tipsy. She’d called to invite her over for dinner that afternoon, so Zoe could bring her up to speed about the Casa Di Moda photo shoot in Florence yesterday, and since Jiovanni was busy with his new lady love, Alessandra Esposito, she’d gladly accepted. Spending another Saturday night alone was depressing, and Zoe would rather hang out with her boss than watch TV or journal about her week.

  Or so she’d thought.

  From the moment Zoe arrived at the apartment the couple had been grilling her about her love life. She’d quickly changed the subject, had chatted excitedly about the overwhelming online response to the pictures she’d posted on Casa Di Moda’s website from the Florence photoshoot. Soon the couple was helping her brainstorm ideas for the holiday campaign.

  The doorbell rang, and Aurora hopped around the kitchen like a rabbit in a meadow. “Honey, hurry, it’s seven o’clock. Set the table, light some candles and select the wine!” Aurora shrieked. “Zoe, would you be a dear and answer the door? As you can see our hands are full, and I don’t want to keep our guest waiting.”

  Zoe didn’t know what the fuss was about, didn’t understand why Aurora and Davide were suddenly speaking to each other in hushed tones. She’d had dinner at the Bordellio house before, and although Aurora complained about her mother-in-law being impossible to please, Zoe liked the retired college professor. She loved hearing her hilarious stories about former students. “Not a problem at all.”