Matteo

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “Ellie – answer me. Are you Eloise Benoit?”

  His eyes are stormy and his body radiates rage. I’m almost scared to answer. But more than that, I’m ashamed because I know what he must think of me right now. He probably thinks I that I betrayed him. He probably sees me as a liar.

  “Are you just gonna sit there and stare at me or are you gonna answer?”

  “I – I.” Shit – I wanted to be the one to tell him so that I could explain myself. I hate that he found out from someone else.

  He shoves away from the table so hard that the chair smacks into the wall behind him. “All this fucking time! All this fucking time, Ellie! You kept this from me. You saw me falling for you, trusting you more and more, and you kept this fucking secret from me.”

  “It’s not that simple, Matteo,” I yelp getting up from my seat. I have to make him understand.

  “It’s not that simple? Ellie – your so-called blog has been spreading gossip about me and my family for years. About my parents, my brother, my little sisters. And you thought it was okay to be with me and never mention that?”

  “I didn’t plan any of this, if that’s what you’re thinking?”

  “How am I supposed to believe that, Ellie? You lied to me about what you do for a living. About your name.” He unclenches his fist and pushes his fingers through his hair.

  “I didn’t lie to you. You were never interested in knowing about my blog. You turned up your nose at me the first time I mentioned it, like you didn’t even take me seriously.”

  “Well, I never imagined that you ran a blog built on tearing people’s lives to shreds and feeding it to blood-thirsty gossip-mongers just to make a dollar.”

  “That’s not how it is, Matteo.”

  He mutters a string of curse words under his breath.

  “And as for my name – my name is Eloise Parker – but my grandparents started calling me ‘Ellie’ when I was a little girl. Nobody calls me ‘Eloise’. And ‘Benoit’? That’s my mother’s maiden name. It’s French and beautiful and I love it. Plus, I hated my father too much to carry his name around everywhere with me. So, when I started my blog, I decided to go by ‘Eloise Benoit’. It’s anonymous and exotic at the same time…But my legal name is Eloise Parker. Your law firm has my birth certificate. Didn’t you read through my file?”

  His eyes drop to the floor and he shakes his head. “Regardless of what your name is, you let me go on believing that I could trust you –“

  “You can trust me,” I insist.

  He hocks a laugh. “I can trust you? How do I know you haven’t been getting close to me just to dig up more of my family’s secrets so that you can post them on your fucking blog?”

  “I wouldn’t do that.” Tears run hot down my cheeks. I’m falling for this man and here he is breaking my heart with each syllable that streams out of his mouth.

  “Christ – I introduced you to my daughter, Ellie. My precious little girl.”

  “I would never blog about Tilly. I wouldn’t do that.” My god – I have no chance here, do I?

  “This –“ he gestures to the space between us “is exactly why I’ve never been in love. You give someone your heart and then they use it as a soccer ball.”

  Before I can say anything else, he’s halfway to the front door. Nothing I say or do will change the way he feels. Knowing that makes me feel helpless and hopeless.

  He turns and looks at me as his hand reaches for the doorknob. “You’re incredible, Ellie, in all the wrong ways.”

  I can’t let him walk out the door thinking that this wasn’t real. That what we feel for each other isn’t real.

  I do the only thing I can think of.

  “I love you.”

  I offer the three little words that have been weighing on my mind for the last few days. But after what I’ve done, they’ll mean nothing to him.

  He looks at me like I just punched him in the stomach. “Your mother, she was wrong. Chemistry isn’t enough. Trust plus honesty have to be part of the equation if you’re gonna call it ‘love’.”

  Chapter 27

  I could just walk away from this shit. I should.

  She betrayed me.

  I was sleeping with the enemy. Literally. I was a fool for trusting her. For introducing her to my child. For risking my career for her.

  It’s no wonder I’ve stayed away from emotions up till this point because right now it feels like someone ripped my beating heart straight out of my chest. Staring into the mirrored wall covering the back of the bar, I don’t even recognize the poor sucker staring back at me.

  So, I’m sitting here at the bar in the lobby of the hotel where I keep my fuck pad and I’m going to drink until I’m numb. And then, I’m going to find some random, willing broad and hammer my dick into her until I feel like Matteo Moretti again.

  I think I’ve found my target – a tall, lithe redhead with disproportionately large cleavage and lips made for gripping a raging, hard cock. She sits at the other end of the bar and I smile to grab her attention. She does a double take when she sees me. She bats her eyelashes shyly and looks away.

  I grab my tumbler off of the bar top and head towards her.

  “Hey –“ I say slipping onto the stool next to her.

  Her gaze flutters over to my face. “Hey.” A blush rolls over the surface of her skin. Good – she’s nice and reactive to me.

  “I’m Matt. What’s you’re name?” I could have probably come up with a decent pick-up line to toss at her but I’m really in no mood for games. I just want to get down to it.

  “Taylor,” she says sliding her small hand out to me.

  I gently take her hand and give her a winning smile, complete with my deal-sealing dimples. “Let me buy you a drink.” I summon the bartender over and Taylor places an order.

  It only takes ten minutes and half a glass of white wine to convince Taylor to come up to my room with me. But never in my life have I ever worked so hard at pretending to pay attention. It’s not that she’s boring per se; it’s just that I don’t give a shit what she has to say. I’ll fuck her because I have to. It’s what’s required for my sanity.

  I push open the room door and let her lead the way inside. She sits clumsily on the edge of the bed and looks up at me from under her lashes. I give her the best smile I can muster as I sink into the mattress next to her.

  Our every move is technical, calculated and painfully awkward. I lean in to kiss her and our noses bump. She giggles as she pulls back, rubbing her nose. My hands are clumsy as I undo the buttons at the front of her satin blouse. She kisses my neck, swiping her tongue along my flesh. When I reach behind her and unclasp her bra, her extra large breasts bounce free. She undoes my belt buckle with shaky hands before reaching into my pants.

  And I’m as limp as a cooked linguine noodle.

  I give her a sheepish smile. Her forehead goes tight. She strokes me for a while longer, her body language growing increasingly uncomfortable as I fail to harden up in her hands. “Oh, I know,” she mutters to herself as she drops to her knees in front of me about to bury my unwilling cock down her throat.

  This isn’t going to work.

  She’s fairly good-looking – big tits, perky lips, long legs – so why won’t my body respond to her? This is exactly the type of woman that I used to pick up at a bar and bring to my fuck pad. I would screw her till she was hoarse and achy from a night of endless orgasms. And the next morning, I would creep out of bed and forget her name before I’d even ordered my over-priced morning espresso…But that was before Ellie Parker strutted into my life with that mesmerizing hip-sway.

  And now, I’m realizing that I can’t just try to stick my cock into some other woman every time it seems like things might go awry between Ellie and me. What I feel for her isn’t something I can just sex out of my system. It’s real. It’s love. Maybe I should just face it.

  I put my hand gently on this poor girl’s shoulder to stop her. When her eyes shift up to mine, I say, “
You don’t have to do this.”

  She pauses for a second, a look of defeat sliding onto her face. “This really sucks,” she says with a pout as she plops down onto the bed next to me.

  I turn and look at her. She looks really disappointed. “It’s not you, Taylor. It’s me. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  She gives me a small chuckle but stays silent for a while. “This was supposed to be easy. My boyfriend – high school sweetheart – he’s been cheating on me. I just found out. I wanted to forget, to drown myself in someone new so that, at least for tonight, I could forget. I just wanted to get away from my life for a little bit. But I keep thinking about him even now that I’m with you.” A tear slides down her face. “I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have said that. You probably don’t want to hear my problems.”

  “It’s okay,” I say looking over at her. “I actually understand where you’re coming from. I’m going through the same thing. Well – sorta. Someone I trusted betrayed me and I just wanted to forget her tonight. That’s why I brought you up to this room with me.”

  She gives me a small, knowing smile. “Well, at least I’m not pathetic all by myself, then.”

  I chuckle. “I guess trying to run from our drama isn’t the answer.”

  “Yeah.” She stands and buttons her shirt. “I should go.”

  I touch her on the hand. “No – stay. The room’s already paid for. Stay the night. Enjoy the suite. I’ll leave. Go home to my daughter.” I buckle my pants as I head to the door.

  “Hey – Matt,” she says as I reach for the door handle.

  “Yeah?” I turn around.

  “I’m glad we met each other tonight. We both needed to have this conversation.”

  I smile at her. “I guess you’re right.” And then, I walk out the door.

  Chapter 28

  I’ve thrown myself into my work ever since Matteo walked out of my apartment two weeks ago.

  I haven’t been paying the required attention to the blog lately and the effects of that neglect are starting to show. Traffic is down 12% from this time last year while it seems that our competitors are growing in popularity.

  I’m frustrated.

  And distracted.

  I can’t concentrate for the life of me. Everything around me reminds me of Matteo, of how we were starting to build something and of how this goddamned blog fucked it all up.

  I miss that beautiful, arrogant man.

  It hurts like hell – realizing that you’ve fallen in love with someone just as they’re walking out of your life.

  A chirpy rat-tat-tat yanks my attention in the direction of the door. Dove stands there, her dreadlocks tied in a bun high on her head. She’s holding two large containers and two forks.

  Time for our weekly meeting.

  I force a smile and motion for her to enter.

  “Hey doll,” she says dropping a container and a fork on the corner of my desk.

  “Hey,” I mumble pulling the container towards me. “Smells really good,” I say before stabbing my fork into the grilled peppers sticking out of the tortilla.

  Dove drops into the chair opposite my desk and pops her container open. “So, one of our freelancers spotted Gabriel Cohen – the Olympic snowboarder – leaving the a hotel in the East Village this morning with a brunette who is most definitely not his wife.” She slides a few photographs across my desk and looks at me with excited eyes, waiting for my reaction.

  “Oh.” I give the photos a cursory glance before returning my attention to the food in front of me.

  “Okay…” I hear her say, stretching the word out. “The Jackson twins were spotted at that new Italian sushi bar in Soho.” More photos are tossed in my direction.

  “Uh-huh.” I give her a weak nod, trying my best to feign interest.

  She sighs and leans back in her chair. “I wasn’t gonna ask – but Ellie, what the hell is your problem these days? You’ve been acting more and more like a disgruntled employee and less like the boss, the owner of this damn business.”

  I drop my fork dramatically to the table and make a frustrated sound. “I’m just wondering – why do we do this? What’s the point?”

  Dove just stares blankly at me for a beat. “Girl – are you okay? ‘Cause for the past few weeks, you’ve been all angst and deeper meaning. I’m starting to worry about you. Are you gearing up to have an existential crisis on me?”

  I push my chair back and rise to my feet. I turn my back to her and stare out the window at my view of the dirty alley behind our office building. “It just – it just doesn’t feel…important. I want the work I do to feel important and running this blog has started to feel trivial.” I glance back at Dove and find her eyeing me with a guarded expression.

  “Look, Ellie – if you’re getting ready to bail on this blog, just give me a head’s up so I can get my resumé in order. I deserve some advanced notice. I mean – I’ve got an out-of-control shoe fetish and a frisky little pomeranian to feed. You need to tell me if I should start looking for other career opportunities. ”

  I push a sigh and return to my desk. “Maybe I’m just – I’m just going through a phase. I’ll snap out of it,” I assure her.

  Still, she looks skeptical.

  Just then, one of the staff writers sticks her head into my office. “Excuse me,” she apologizes with a nervous smile. “Dove – some courier just dropped off this package from Wilson Row Watches. It’s addressed to you.” She waves around an overstuffed plastic mailer.

  “Yeah – I’ve been waiting for that since yesterday.” Dove slides the lid onto her container and stands. “I’ve gotta take care of this, Ellie.”

  I give her a nod. “Yeah. Of course.” I pull my attention back to my computer screen and stare at the blinking cursor waiting, hoping that some motivation will come to me.

  Chapter 29

  I scrub my hand over my stubbly jaw as I stare down at Central Park. I can’t sleep. This situation with Ellie has robbed me of my sanity. She texted me a few times today. She says that she’s sorry and that she wants to see me face-to-face.

  But there’s nothing to talk about.

  The woman betrayed me. Technically, she didn’t lie but she made a major omission. I never would have slept with her if I had known that her blog was responsible for spreading all that salacious gossip about me and my family. But, she hid that from me.

  Yet, somehow I still want her.

  I can’t help it. On top of being utterly gorgeous, she’s driven, ambitious and headstrong. Plus, she has a sense of humor that makes me let down my guard. And she’s completely unassuming about how desirable she is.

  Fuck!

  And the worst part is that my fucked up brain is making excuses for her.

  She didn’t mean to do this. She’s in agony right now. She wants to apologize and make it better.

  Usually, I don’t give two shits about women and their baggage – they’re either down to fuck or they’re not. That’s generally all I care about. But with this one, it’s different. I give a damn. I don’t want her to get hurt. I want to protect her.

  Even though she has clearly deceived me.

  I’ve gotta get my head together. This isn’t like me.

  I growl in frustration.

  Tilly whimpers softly, clutching her teddy bear tightly as she rolls over under my crumpled sheets.

  I don’t want to wake her. I grab my tumbler from the windowsill and tiptoe out of the room.

  Just as I’m closing the door behind me, I hear my cellphone chime on the coffee table in the living room. I snatch it up and swipe a finger across the screen.

  A text message from Ellie.

  We need to talk, Matteo. Plz. Hear me out.

  I toss my phone across the room and it lands on the sofa cushions with a soft thud.

  Chapter 30

  “Matteo – you came!”

  He crosses over the threshold, his shoulders are rigid and his hands are buried deep inside his pockets. “Hi.” A chill sat
urates his tone making it a stark contrast to the overly-excited lilt in my voice. His eyes are guarded. He makes no attempt to touch me as he glides by me.

  I turn away from him to close the door and use the short reprieve to swallow past the lump in my throat. Suddenly, I’m very nervous. I’ve been calling him for days and he’s refused to answer. I’ve been going crazy and the only reason I didn’t just show up at his apartment is because I didn’t want to make a scene in front of Tilly. My hand flies to my mouth and I chew on my nails.