“I honestly can’t tell you, baby. I don’t think I did anything wrong. My commission was lower than average, I offered to do extra work for them. I just don’t get it.”
“Are you okay, Bella?”
She sighed. “Yes, just disappointed. I feel like …god, I don’t know … that my name has been sullied by this. I really hope not. I’ve worked too hard for this.”
“You have. Look, Bella, there’s plenty of work to do here …I’ll send a car for you.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but instead, she found herself agreeing. She hid her upset from Zulika and Fred, and an hour later she was being driven out to Mountain View. Giacomo met her at the entrance, kissing her hello.
“I’m sorry, Bella.”
She shook her head, wanting to cry. “It’s Okayay. I just wished I knew why.”
Giacomo called in some favors with some contacts, but everyone was closed-lipped. It wasn’t until a few days later that they got their answer. An anonymous source at the cosmetics company sent Giacomo an image with the cryptic message: I think this will answer your question.
It was a mock-up of the campaign Norah had been set to work on, launching the brand’s new line. Front and center of the photograph mock-up, in all her long-legged, icy blonde beauty …Tara.
Norah groaned and put her head on the desk. Giacomo cursed in Italian. He put his hand on Norah’s hair. “Bella, I will sort this out. I promise.”
Norah wanted to argue, but knew that Giacomo would have more luck than she in this area. He had the reputation and the status. Tara was an international supermodel. Who was this interloper, Norah Reddy? If a brand could get the unattainable Tara Hubert to front their campaign in return for dumping a newcomer, why wouldn’t they?
“How did she know? How did she know who I was working with?”
Giacomo had no answer for her. “I will find out, mio caro. I promise you.”
Seven o’clock and the bottle of sleeping pills just sat there, tempting her. Zulika sat on the kitchen counter, mindlessly munching an apple. The apartment was too quiet and too dark. Maybe running this morning had been a mistake. Her doctor had switched her medication and she was getting used to the new nausea, but it was distracting. Three days of taking the tablets had left her queasy and light-headed. Yes, they knocked her right out, but … she went to the hallway to grab the phone and stopped. She picked up the photo of the four of them: Orlando, Norah, Giacomo, and herself. Happy. Happier, she corrected. Not perfect. She sighed and placed the photo face down. She took the phone into the living room and curled up in the armchair. Dialing, she waited for an answer.
‘Hello?’
‘Hey,’ she smiled into the phone. “What are you doing this evening?’
Tara Hubert left dinner, and her date, at the restaurant and waited outside for the valet to bring her car around. As she slid into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and moved off, but then screeched to a halt as Giacomo leaned forward from the backseat. Tara clutched her chest, her heart banging against her ribs. “What the fuck are you doing, Giacomo?”
His smile was chilling. “Oh, no. You first, Tara. What the fuck are you doing? Sabotaging Norah’s career? I won’t stand for it.”
Tara smiled nastily. “Oh, you won’t? And what exactly are you going to do about it?”
Giacomo met her eyes without saying a word and Tara quelled at the anger in them. She looked away. “So, she has to send you to fight her battles? Impressive.”
“Tara, I would advise you not to test me. If you have a problem with me, fine. We will have to come to some sort of resolution. But Norah is off limits.”
Tara sneered. “I’m just doing my job, Giacomo. Can I help it if they don’t want some half-baked artist on their campaign?”
“I’m warning you, Tara.”
She turned in her seat. “Get out of my car, Giacomo …unless you want me to drive you back to my apartment. I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement there.”
Giacomo’s nose turned up. “You need to come to terms with the fact I’m never coming back to you, Tara. Ever. That boat has sailed a long time ago now. I’m off the market for good. Norah and I will be married very soon.”
Tara flinched at his words, pain shooting through her. “Well, what a fucking heart-warming Cinderella story that’ll be.”
“Do you understand me, Tara?”
“Get out of my car, Giacomo, before I scream.”
“My pleasure. Goodbye, Tara.” And he was gone.
Tara sat for a few minutes, brooding. Giacomo Conti, married. After how many months? Six? And yet in five years with Tara, he hadn’t even mentioned it once.
Fuck you, Giacomo. And fuck your beautiful fiancée.
You won’t get away with this.
Zulika touched her glass to Orlando’s and grinned at him. “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble by inviting you out tonight.”
They were seated in a little burger joint downtown, tall glasses of soda in front of them, waiting for their food. Orlando shook his head, smiling. “You saved me from an evening of twiddling my thumbs. Ferma’s at a sleepover with one of her friends—the first one since her mom died, and honestly, I had no idea how to entertain myself again. I miss your company in the evenings.”
“And I, yours. I still think I needed to move back home and get independent, but yeah, some nights, I miss just looking over at you and saying some random factoid.”
Orlando laughed. “Ah, yes, your encyclopedic knowledge of …everything.”
“Jealous.”
He laughed again. “Always. How’s the new girl working out at the store?”
“Fred? She’s fantastic. I’m sure she’s some kind of Pied Piper of Books—our sales have gone through the roof.”
They chatted easily throughout their meal, both groaning afterward that their bellies were full. They walked down to the Golden Gate bridge and leaning against the railing, looking out at the boats on the Bay, then Orlando asked her if she’d like to come back to his house for a drink.
“Sure thing,” she said and he grinned
“Race you.”
“Oh, ha ha,” she grimaced, rubbing her full belly, “I actually think that burger might have killed me.”
“Fatty.”
“Hey!” She giggled and they teased each other mercilessly as they walked to find a cab.
At home, she breathed in the comforting smell of the place: books, records, the faint hint of breakfast cereal, and Orlando’s woodsy, clean scent. When they had settled on the couches, Orlando passed her a bottle of beer and they sat back.
“When I was sick, I never told you how much of a comfort being here with you and Ferma was.”
Orlando smiled. “You did. You said it all the time.”
Zulika chuckled. “I guess I did …but did you ever realize how much it meant to me? You and Ferma were a lifeline. I don’t know if my recovery would have gone so well.”
Orlando looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, now, I’m sure if you had told Norah at the start …
“Oh, I know. But it didn’t work out like that. You will never know how glad I was to run into you at the hospital, that day.”
She suddenly realized what she’d said and was horrified. “God, Lando, I mean …Jesus. Me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry.”
You idiot, she berated herself. Did you really just say you were glad he was at the hospital to pick up his dead wife’s things? His murdered wife? Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
Orlando put his hand over hers. “Zulika, chill. I know what you meant. I’m glad I was there for you too.”
He left his hand on hers and Zulika could not help winding her fingers through his. She stared at their conjoined hands for a long moment and then looked up. She met Orlando’s curious gaze and then, so, so naturally, their lips met. His mouth was soft and his lips gentle. Zulika found a myriad of sensations flooding through her as they kissed.
“Lando?” She whispered, but he
shook his head.
“Don’t say anything. Just …”
He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, kissing her deeply, passionately. Zulika found her arms curling around his neck, her fingers tangling in his black hair.
Orlando moved her onto her back, his hands pushing up her shirt. Zulika, breathless, tugged his t-shirt over his head and ran her hands over the hard muscles of his chest. He was solidly built, his shoulders broad and his arms thickly muscled. As they stripped, she couldn’t help but admire the rest of him—his long legs, powerful thighs, and thick, proud cock.
As he covered her body with his, Zulika felt as if she were dreaming, and when his cock slid into her, she gasped at the pain mixed with such heady pleasure she thought she might pass out. They made love tenderly and slowly, exploring each other’s bodies. Orlando braced his hands on either side of her, gazing down at her as he began to thrust harder and deeper, and Zulika was lost, almost delirious with pleasure.
As she came, she heard him groan out her name again and again with such tenderness that she almost wept. “I love you so much, Lando. So, so much.”
But as he caught his breath, Zulika saw the change come over his face. Oh no, no, not this, please …
Guilt.
He withdrew from her, sitting up. Zulika pushed herself up, reaching for him, but he flinched away. He turned back to her almost immediately, but the damage was done. Zulika covered her naked breasts, mortified.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t. Not …in her house ...”
Zulika felt hot tears of shame flood down her cheeks, but she nodded. “I understand. I’ll go …”
She started to pull her clothes on, but Lando reached for her. “I’m sorry, Zul. Please believe me when I say it is me, not you.”
God. She shook her head, unable to speak.
He walked her to the door. “Let me call you a cab.”
She shook her head. “No, I need the air.”
She turned to go, but he pulled her back into his arms. Leaning his forehead against hers, she could feel his tears dripping onto her face. “I’m so sorry, Zul …I want to be able to love you, to be free to love you …I’m just not there yet.”
She kissed him softly. “It’s okay.”
But as she ran into the night, down his street, she knew it wasn’t Okay. She debated calling a cab, but she didn’t want to be around anyone. The bookstore was only a couple of blocks. She’d stay there tonight, alone. Somewhere she could collect herself.
Somewhere she could cry her heart out and no-one would hear her.
Tara straddled him and rode his cock impatiently, needing him to come fast and hard. She needed the ego boost—and she needed Lucian to help her with the next part of her plan.
Which was why she was fucking him again; the only reason. He had long since started to revolt her, but now, with his cock buried deep inside her cunt, she knew she had all the power over him she needed.
Because soon, very soon she was going to need him to kill his ex-girlfriend.
“Zulika. Zulika. Zulika.” A poke in the ribs. “Boss. Wake up.”
Zulika opened her eyes to see Fred leaning over her, at once amused and annoyed. The sun was streaming in from the windows. Fred had obviously opened the blinds before she’d seen Zulika. Zulika blinked a few times, her head a fuzzy whirl. She sat up, clutching the throw to her naked body.
“Jeez. What time is it?”
“Nine a.m. What on earth are you doing in here?”
Zulika stood, wrapping the blanket around her tightly. “Nine a.m.? Damn, I must have been tired.”
“Why are you asleep on the couches anyway? You know you have a bed at home, right?”
“I couldn’t be bothered to go home.” Zulika was gathering up her clothes. She could have sworn she’d left her underwear on, but now she found it folded neatly on top of her jeans and t-shirt. Her limbs felt strange—sore as if she’s been lifting weights. “I need to take a shower.”
Fred frowned. “You could have crashed on my couch, you know. And if you’re going to be buck naked, you might want to make sure the door’s locked. The back door was open.”
Zulika stopped. “What?”
Fred nodded. “Yep. Unless …” Fred grinned wickedly. “You were expecting company?”
Zulika rolled her eyes. “Behave yourself.”
Fred threw her a grin. “Go clean yourself up, you shameless hussy. I’ll let the screaming hoards in. Wait …” She stopped Zulika and peered at her, frowning. “How’d you get that?” She poked at Zulika’s neck and Zulika winced.
“What is it?” She went out to the back room and looked in the mirror.
“You’ve got a hickey.” Fred stood watching her, arms folded across her chest.
“Whatever.” Zulika let her hair drop, shrugged, and headed upstairs. Her eyes stung and she sighed when she saw her red eyes and puffy cheeks. She had a terrible pain in her chest, but she knew it wasn’t anything physical. Torturing herself, she checked her phone for messages. None.
Oh god. What had she been thinking? Had she ruined her friendship with Orlando because of a one night stand? The thought of never seeing him again was breaking her heart, but seeing him would be even harder.
Help me, I don’t know what to do.
She flicked to the keypad on her phone and called the one person she knew she could talk to.
Norah.
Norah took one look at Zulika’s face and sent her home. “I’ll finish out the day with Fred, then come to you. I’ll tell Giacomo I won’t be home tonight.”
Zulika dragged herself home and fell into bed to sleep until Norah came over. As she was falling asleep, the tears came, and she sobbed again, trying to tell herself that it shouldn’t make such a big difference. So she had a one night stand with her friend, her recently-bereaved friend, and he’d freaked out. He hadn’t said she disgusted him, or that he didn’t want her. He just felt guilty.
Which was bad enough, because so did Zulika. Not just because of Carmel. Not just because of her friend, but because, for Zulika, last night had been more than sex—more than just a one night stand.
It had been her first time. And for a second, it seemed like it had been the perfect way to say goodbye to her long-held virginity. And it had. It had been perfect. Until it wasn’t.
She rolled over onto her front and buried her tears in her pillow.
Giacomo knew that Norah was with Zulika, so he decided to go see his god-daughter and Orlando. Ferma was excited; Norah had already asked her to be her flower-girl and as soon as Giacomo arrived, she was showing him the sketches she had made of her dream dress.
“I would show you the ones I did of Auntie Norah,” she told him seriously, “But you’re not supposed to see her dress and if she picks one of them, then that’s bad luck.”
“I understand,” he said in a grave voice, then winked at Lando. His friend looked tired. “Youokay, man?”
Lando mouthed, “Later,” at him and Giacomo nodded. After take-out pizza, Ferma went to bed, the two men sat outside with cold beers, and Lando told him about his night with Zulika.
Giacomo listened, then patted his friend’s back. “Lando, I have to say, it’s not the biggest surprise.”
“It isn’t?”
Giacomo shrugged. “Anyone can see you two are crazy about each other.”
Orlando groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “That’s just it. Carmel hasn’t even been gone a year. How could I fall for someone else so quickly?”
“Give yourself a break, Lando. Did you mean to fall in love again? No. Are you disrespecting Carmel’s memory? Hell, no. She’s up there, cheering you on. You know how much Carmel and Zulika liked each other. Ferma adores her. No one expects you to be a monk.”
Orlando rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I promised I wouldn’t get involved with anyone until I got closure for myself. For Ferma. Until we know who killed Carmel and why …”
“Lando, lis
ten to me.” Giacomo’s voice was serious. “Here’s the brutal truth; we may never know. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh. Whether it was someone targeting Carmel or just a random psychopath …we might never know. You cannot put your life on hold for that.”
Orlando said nothing, staring out unseeingly at the backyard. Giacomo swigged his beer.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, mio fratello.”
Orlando looked him and Giacomo winced at the pain in his eyes. “What if something happened to Norah, then less than a year later you realized …I’m in love with this whole new person? How would you feel?”
Giacomo hesitated and then nodded. “I understand.”
“No, tell me. How would you feel? If someone murdered Norah, if someone shot her six times when she was carrying your child, if someone ended her life in cold blood …”
“Stop.” Giacomo felt sick. Even though he knew Orlando was really talking to himself now, the images he was conjuring were making Giacomo’s heart beat so hard against his ribs that it was painful.
Orlando dropped his head into his hands and Giacomo could see his shoulders shaking.
“Lando …stop torturing yourself. It happened.”
“Giacomo, what if, by being careless, I’ve ruined Zulika’s life and my life? I want my friend back, but I’ve hurt her. I know I have.”
Giacomo hugged his friend in his distress. “Lando, I promise. You will get through this. It’s not an impossible situation.”
Orlando walked slowly over and pushed the door open. The Anthology was empty of customers. Norah looked up at him and he raised his eyebrows at her. She grinned and wandered out to the back room. Orlando walked to the counter and saw Norah push an equally confused Zulika into the store. Norah shut the door behind her, leaving them alone. Orlando braced himself, but was wrong-footed when Zulika gave him a shy smile.
“Hi.” She blushed a little.
“Hey.” He shook himself and smiled back. “You okay?”
She nodded and poured out coffee for him. Orlando sat down, not wanting the spell to break, but not knowing what to say. Zulika seemed at a loss too.
“Zul– “
“We have new cupcakes. Pumpkin.”
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 12
