by Lucy Monroe
“Best buds since middle school.”
“Are you hoping to attend MIT as well?” Vincenzo showed every sign of real interest.
“I wish. Mom and Dad made me apply. I didn’t want to waste their application fee, but Dad especially just wouldn’t listen. Even if I get scholarships, that’s not happening. I’m not letting Mom and Dad go into major debt so I can attend an Ivy League school.” The longing in Brian’s voice said just how much he wanted to, though.
His parents were better off financially than Audrey, but they were still firmly in the middle-class income bracket and had four kids to put through college, not one.
“That seems to be a recurring theme.” Vincenzo’s tone was thoughtful.
“I’m planning to go to UMass Boston. We’ll still be close enough to hang on weekends though, right?”
University of Massachusetts, Boston campus, was Toby’s backup plan, too. It was a good school, but not the one Audrey knew either her brother or Brian most wanted to attend.
“Right,” Audrey said, giving the teenager an encouraging smile.
She liked Brian. A lot. He’d been a good friend to Toby, even when her brother came out in high school and some of his friends dropped him because of it. Brian dated girls, but he’d joined the Gay-Straight alliance on campus to support his best friend.
Conversation around them settled down once the game started. Vincenzo’s comments and loud team support showed that not only was he fully aware of which position Toby played, he had a genuine understanding of the game.
“I didn’t realize you were such an enthusiastic fan,” she said to him after a particularly loud shout of approval accompanied by him standing up to give it. “I thought Sicilians were all about European football.”
“Soccer has never been my game. There is something very satisfying to the primitive in me to watch men face each other in such direct combat.”
“It’s a game, Enzu.”
“Tell that to the young men doing their best to take your brother out at the knees.”
“Don’t remind me.” Football was a dangerous sport, and the wide receiver got tackled more often than the quarterback got sacked.
“He’s fast and talented.”
“He is.”
“He is not interested in playing at university?”
“Maybe.”
“But he is not looking for an athletic scholarship?”
“No.” She did not want her brother’s college education dependent on him being on the football team. “Football is a huge time commitment. Toby can handle it now, but MIT’s courseload is terrifyingly heavy.”
“Terrifying for him, or for you?” Vincenzo asked with too much insight.
“I just don’t want him locked into playing sports when he might need that time to study.”
“You’re very protective.”
“Someone has to be.”
Vincenzo didn’t reply, going back to watching the game. Very vocally.
When halftime came Audrey suggested getting something warm to drink. Vincenzo sent one of his security guys for hot chocolate, which was not what Audrey had meant. But it did give them the chance to take Franca behind the bleachers to run off some of the amazing amounts of energy stored in the body of a four-year-old.
When the game resumed Franca crawled into Audrey’s lap. The third quarter was only half over when the small body went lax in sleep against her.
The look Vincenzo gave Audrey and the sleeping child was odd, almost tender. “Do you want me to take her?”
“No, she’s fine. I can’t believe she’s sleeping through your cheering, though.”
“Me neither. It must be a child thing.”
“I remember my Danny at that age. He could sleep through an earthquake,” a woman in front of them said.
“He did.” Her husband turned his head to them and winked. “We lived in California and he slept right through me carrying him to a doorway and holding him through the after-tremors.”
Everyone laughed, but Audrey’s heart squeezed. She wanted that. She wanted stories to tell when her children were teenagers; the shared experience of a lifetime spent with another person.
The prospect that Vincenzo might choose someone else for Franca and Angilu’s mom grew more painful by the day. Her desire to be the one had never only been about Toby, but Audrey’s desire to make a difference in the small children’s lives had only been a vague concept before.
Now she knew them. Knew how much Angilu loved his bath time, how important it was to Franca to have her pictures hung on the walls of the nursery. The little girl had been ecstatic when Audrey had showed her a photo on her phone of Franca’s latest floral masterpiece, hanging on the cubicle wall in Audrey’s workspace.
It had taken less than the week they’d had together for both children to take firm footholds in Audrey’s heart. She knew the days to come would only make her attachment to the children stronger.
The probability her heart was going to end up broken at the end of this only grew.
CHAPTER NINE
ENZU WAITED WITH Audrey outside the athletic building for her brother to come out of the locker room.
She’d tried to get rid of him, saying Franca needed to be taken home and put to bed.
Sending his daughter with one of the bodyguards to the limo took care of that particular argument. Enzu wanted to meet Toby, the young man Audrey had sacrificed so much to protect and raise.
“It could be another hour before he comes out.” Audrey tried again.
He doubted it. Particularly after the offer Enzu had made to the team’s head coach that afternoon. But he only said mildly, “You think so?”
He was not surprised in the least when a blond youth, easily as tall as Vincenzo, wearing jeans, T-shirt and letterman’s jacket came bursting out of the door to the gym building. Eyes the same dark brown as Audrey’s scanned the people milling around before landing on Enzu and Audrey.
Toby loped over, his blond hair dark with moisture. “Audrey!”
It said something about how agitated she was that his sister had not noticed the boy’s exit until that moment.
She jumped, glared at Enzu and then turned to face her brother. “Hey, Tobe. Great game.”
“It was,” Enzu agreed with a nod, putting his hand out for the teen to shake. “Vincenzo Tomasi. You are a very talented ball-player, Toby.”
The boy’s handshake was firm and long enough to indicate confidence, but not so long he gave the impression of trying to prove anything. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tomasi. Thank you for the party tonight. That’s just sick.”
“Sick means good in teenspeak,” Audrey translated, before demanding, “What party?”
“Mr. Tomasi rented a bowling alley for the team and any friends we want to invite to celebrate our last game. Coach told us just now. Free games, shoe rental, food and soda until midnight.”
Audrey gasped. “What? I didn’t know—”
“Like I didn’t know the guy you were dating was the freaking CEO of your whole company?” Toby interrupted.
“We haven’t gone public with our association,” Enzu inserted smoothly while Audrey looked like she’d swallowed her tongue.
“Why not?” the boy demanded brashly.
Enzu gave Toby a measuring look. “Because a man in my position does not announce who he is dating before he knows if that dating is going to lead somewhere at least somewhat long-term.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Toby didn’t look entirely convinced, though. He turned to Audrey. “So, it’s okay?”
“If you go to the party?” she clarified.
“Yeah.”
“Yes, but I want you home by one.”
“As to that,” Enzu said before Toby could reply, “my country home is the same distance in the other direction as your apartment. I would like it very much if you came there instead.”
“Why would I come there?” Toby asked in confusion.
“Because you and your sist
er will be spending the rest of the weekend with me and my children.”
“What? You’ve got kids, man?”
“They’re his niece and nephew,” Audrey explained. “He got custody when his brother died six months ago.”
“Oh.” Toby’s youthful features reflected honest sympathy. “I’m sorry, man. That blows.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Text me the address. I’ll GPS it on my phone.”
Audrey put up one hand in a gesture that meant stop. “Wait, I didn’t agree to spend the weekend.”
“Would you disappoint Franca and Angilu?” Enzu asked, knowing the answer. “They are looking forward to it.”
“Angilu is a baby and you shouldn’t have told Franca without asking me first.”
“Have you not heard the saying it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?”
“Oh, how come I didn’t know about that one?” Toby teased.
Audrey frowned at them both. “We don’t have any clothes, pajamas, toiletries… No, it’s impossible.”
“I took the liberty of having everything necessary procured in your sizes. Including swimsuits. We have an indoor pool,” Enzu said to entice the teenager.
Toby looked at Audrey as if to ask if Enzu was for real.
She nodded with clear resignation. “If he says he got us clothes and things, he did. And they probably cost more than I make in a month, too.”
“But—”
“As your sister likes to remind me, I am a billionaire and my money can be used for more than making another business acquisition.”
Toby looked flummoxed. “Get out of here. A billionaire. Nobody is a billionaire. Well, except maybe one guy I can think of.”
So Audrey had told Toby nothing about Enzu. Interesting.
Regardless, Enzu found he liked the teen’s attitude, so similar to his sister’s. Toby treated the CEO of Tomasi Enterprises like any other person. It was refreshing.
“We do not all live in the media spotlight,” Enzu said dryly.
“I guess, but, wow…that’s just sick.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
Toby’s face took on a serious cast. “We can go to your house, Mr. Tomasi, but my sister gets her own bedroom.”
“Toby!” Audrey’s cheeks washed a dark rose.
The boy looked at his sister. “Somebody has to watch out for you.”
“You are absolutely right, Toby. I give you my word, your sister’s room is all hers and not within two corridors of my own.” He had his own suite in the mansion, near his niece’s and nephew’s rooms, but suitably distanced from those used for guests. It was Enzu’s sacrosanct place to withdraw in privacy when family came to visit.
“That’s okay, then.”
“Oh, is it?” Audrey asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Toby set a direct stare on his sister. “Is he lying?”
“No, I’m sure he’s not.”
“You don’t want to go to a house with a built-in pool?” Toby pushed.
Enzu had thought that would get to the teenager.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Audrey’s not great when plans change unexpectedly,” Toby said in an aside to Enzu.
Audrey snapped, “I like it even less when those changes are made on my behalf without my input.”
“But I am getting that input now,” Enzu argued.
Thinking about the unexpected visitor who had arrived that morning, Enzu was certain that Audrey would have more than his tendency to direct the lives of others to complain about before the end of the weekend.
“You could not have called me earlier?”
“No.” She would only have said no.
“Preemptive strike, right?” Toby grinned. “We’re studying game theory in relation to politics in my advanced government class.”
Audrey sighed. “I give up. You…” She pointed at Toby. “Be at the mansion by one and not a minute later.”
“Woot!” the boy yelled. “Thanks, Audrey. Thank you, Mr. Tomasi.”
He hugged his sister and shook Enzu’s hand enthusiastically again before running back toward the gym.
Audrey called out, “Toby!”
He stopped and turned around.
She jangled a set of keys. “The car is parked in the front lot.”
He jogged back, grabbed the keys and then planted a kiss on his sister’s cheek before thanking her again and leaving.
“He’s got as much energy as Franca.”
“More. He’s still awake and will be for hours to come.”
Enzu reached out and took Audrey’s hand to lead her to the car. “You are not very angry, I hope?”
“More forewarned.”
“Sì?”
“Oh, yes. I’m onto your tricks now, Enzu. You better watch out.”
“I am shaking in my boots.”
“You don’t know how to shake, but I like the boots.”
Inexplicably pleased, he smiled. “Thank you. My grandfather always said a man’s shoes say a lot about him.”
“Yours say you’re willing to dress down for a football game, but your clothes are still worth more than my ten-year-old car.”
“You need a new car, Audrey.”
“No, I do not.”
A ten-year-old car could not be reliable. “I am certain you do.”
“Well, you aren’t buying me one like you bought my brother’s team an after-game party. Thanks for that by the way.”
“It was my pleasure.” And, strangely enough, it had been.
Audrey shook her head, quiet until they reached the limousine. “No luxury sedan this time?” she asked. “Trying to impress me?”
“We needed room for Franca’s carseat.” His niece’s seat was buckled securely in the safest spot in the limo, in case of an accident. The middle of the seat that backed up to the privacy window, which left the one facing it empty for Enzu and Audrey.
Audrey tilted her head, her delicate brows drawn in thought. “There would have been room in the sedan.”
“I did not want to spend the ride home in front with the driver while you were in the back with her,” Enzu explained.
Even if they’d taken one of the security SUVs it would have been the same. Unless Enzu drove, and for long distances his security team and insurance underwriters preferred he not do so.
Being CEO of such a successful company had limitations most would never even consider.
“That would be romantic if this wasn’t part of an extended interview.” Audrey gave him a cheeky grin as she settled into her seat.
He laughed. “But you know the truth.”
“I do.”
And the truth was he enjoyed every moment of the forty-five-minute drive, talking with Audrey in hushed tones, even though Franca had proved capable of sleeping through much louder noises.
*
Audrey might have been surprised a week ago when Enzu insisted on carrying Franca inside instead of leaving it to one of the bodyguards. But she’d spent a week witnessing this business genius’s very real efforts to fulfill the role of parent.
Yes, he took some things for granted a man with less power, influence and money might not, but Enzu cared.
And Audrey found that genuine desire to be a good father an incredible turn-on. After spending six years in sexual limbo, it was disconcerting to find herself affected so strongly by pretty much everything this man did.
They were on the first riser of the grand staircase when a masculine voice spoke from behind them. “Who is this, Enzu?”
Enzu stopped and Audrey followed suit, before turning back to see who had spoken.
The dark-haired man with an insouciant air was unmistakably Vincenzo’s father. He made it into the tabloids often enough to be readily recognizable even if Audrey hadn’t done her research on the Tomasi family.
Enzu had been slower to turn around, but now he faced his father, who stood in the large foyer as if he belonged there. “Giovannu, this is Aud
rey Miller. Audrey—Giovannu Tomasi, my father.”
“You can call me Papa, Enzu. Using my first name is your mother’s affectation, not mine.” The older man winked at Audrey. “My wife does not want anyone to know she is old enough to be Enzu’s mother. And after all her plastic surgery not even I believe it.”
“Don’t be snide, Giovannu.” Enzu looked down at Audrey. “You may join my father for a drink while I put Franca to bed, if you like.”
“I’d prefer to help you with her.” No way was he leaving her alone with this social shark downstairs.
The tightness around Enzu’s mouth relaxed slightly. “As you wish.”
“Surely it does not take two adults to put one child to bed?” Giovannu opined.
“I know you did not think it took either parent when you were raising your children,” Enzu said, in a tone that could have cut glass. “We will agree to disagree.”
The older man winced and stepped backward, as if needing to create physical distance between them. “Whatever you say, son.”
Enzu didn’t reply.
He didn’t speak again at all until after they had changed Franca into her pajamas and tucked her into bed. Mrs. Percy nodded her approval of their endeavors before disappearing silently into her room.
“Do you know she frightens me more than my old nanny used to do?” Enzu asked with a small smile as they traversed the long hall toward the curved stairway.
“She takes her job and the wellbeing of her charges very seriously.”
“Sì, but even so she cannot replace a mama who loves them.”
The absolute lack of doubt in Enzu’s voice came from experience Audrey wasn’t about to question. Besides, she agreed. “Oh, so now you admit that to be loving, a woman might actually need to love Franca and Angilu?”
“You may have a point in that regard.”
“So, your parents are here to visit?” she asked, stopping before they began their descent of the stairs.
Enzu, appearing no more eager to rejoin his father, halted and leaned against the railing. “Giovannu only. My mother is ensconced in their Manhattan townhouse.”
“Your parents live in New York City?”
“When they are in the country, yes. Or at least on this coast. They prefer five-star hotels when staying in LA.”
