I stare at his door sign longer than I know I should.
GIULIO GIANNOTTI
Notti Design Founder, Chief Executive Officer and Senior Architect
A couple of feet from Giulio’s office is my area as his acting assistant. A large concrete desk expands from the sunken wall panel, and around it is everything I’ll need.
I think back to after the call on Friday and our brief encounter on Sunday where during swapping custody, I signed the contract. That afternoon was the first time since the separation that we were able to look each other in the eye without it escalating into an argument.
It was odd spending time alone with the kids yesterday for Labor Day without Giulio. Every year we used to embark on a three-day road trip. Last year was San Juan Island, the one before that Vancouver, Canada. Although I loved the city, I also enjoyed escaping and roaming free with my family on adventures—a breath of fresh air.
I missed it this year.
Get used to it.
I take a seat behind the desk and swivel my chair to switch on the Mac. I’m surprised to find my name already programmed on the screen with a circular ‘V’ profile icon. No password is required and I wonder if that’s solely based upon the countless times I’ve locked myself out of significant accounts in the past.
It’s something only he would know.
Giulio steps out of his office and gives me a brief rundown of the system, all the while I struggle to find a single fitting word to say. Despite our best efforts, the growing tension is still there…but it’s not awkwardness, it’s something else I can’t quite describe. Still, it can be cut with a knife and I hate that we’ve gotten to this point.
After his Ted Talk, I thank him and he trails into his office. I’m left glancing at his closed door, wondering if I should be calling him by his last name. My last name. No. That’s ridiculous. Surely I can call him by his first name…no matter how many reminders it brings.
It’s nine-thirty when Giulio’s door opens next.
“Valencia?”
“What can I do for you, Mr. Gia—I mean Giulio! Sorry.”
Amused, Giulio smiles slowly and I love the crow’s feet that come out to play. I haven’t seen him smile in what seems like months…probably because it has been that long. Those allusive eyes don’t leave mine; they contrast against his dark stubble and hair and by the time he leans by my desk with crossed arms and I take in a whiff of that hypnotizing sensual cologne, I think somebody should arrest me for gawking.
“Giulio. I’m Giulio to you.”
My lips twitch upright. “Right. Just like I’m Valencia to you?”
“Exactly. You see, we’re getting the hang of things now.”
Maybe you are, baby. Not me.
Ahem…I didn’t just call him that in my head…
He motions towards the computer. “Need any assistance?”
“No, don’t think so. I just hired a guard. His name is Lee and he’s proven himself to be highly experienced based on his past employment. He has a clean background check and has been in the business for the past twenty-five years. He’ll be here within the hour.”
“I knew I could count on you.”
“Maybe working here won’t be a bad thing after all.”
“I certainly hope not.”
“Same.” My cheeks flush as I glance back at my Mac. There’s absolutely nothing I need to look at, but his hot gaze digs into me so deeply I think I may become blinded by him.
Giulio has me all flustered just by his presence alone. It’s dangerous. Very dangerous. Because at the same time I don’t agree with many aspects of the man he is now. His views. His lack of hope. His mind. Yet, his charm remains in my heart…along with his touch and the sentiments I’ve tried to bury. This is why determining my relationship with Giulio is such a constant struggle within me. It’s odd to me, how quickly we’ve shifted from being in plain desolation to concordant this morning.
“Wasn’t there something you needed to ask me?”
“Uh, yes.” Giulio clears his throat and the smile fades. “I wanted to warn you about a new employee. An interior designer, Bryce McCarson. He may need your assistance every once in a while. Allow it sparingly.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and one more thing.”
I flick my attention to him at the softness of his voice. Giulio rushes into his office and returns seconds later with a piece of paper.
A smile pulls up the corners of my mouth at the drawing made by Oscar and Slonne. From what I can make out, a woman who’s presumably me sits at a desk with abstract flowers sprouting from the floor. I understand it perfectly. The picture warms the parts of me I always throw darkness into. Above the woman is a sign which reads: Mommy’s first day working with Daddy!
“After I told them the news on the weekend, they drew this up. However, I forgot to bring it with me on Sunday.”
“It’s beautiful!” I set it on my desk with a grin. “I’ll have to thank them tonight. Thanks!”
The day goes better than it began. Giulio and I communicate professionally with business emails and brief intercom discussions. He’s had a busy office day with in-house meetings, client phone conferences, and design production.
My concentration sways from time to time to the gaping hole in my heart. Every time I think of Addilyn, my entire world stops. I’ll never be able to comprehend why somebody did this to us. But I feel as though my leap of faith to work at Notti Designs is paying off. I can be myself here and that’s something I truly value. I don’t need to pretend I’m ecstatic or hide the tears prickling my eyes, unlike at my previous job.
Aside from Marcus’ office straight across the hall, who hasn’t shown up yet, Giulio’s office and my work desk are secluded from the rest of the firm. It’s something I love—the pure bliss of not being in an overcrowded space employees pass.
During a rare quiet moment, I make a dash to create my keycard and I collect it just before lunch. Upon returning to my desk, Kayla formally welcomes me with a tight embrace. “Oh Valencia, it’s so good to see you!”
“It’s been so long, Kayla!”
“Tell me about it! I’ve missed you! Let’s not lose touch like that again.”
Kayla is like another sister to me. We used to be inseparable. When Giulio and I began dating, I would call him at work and she would transfer me. Somehow, that made me feel less flustered about calling him. Giulio had told me I could call his cell, but calling the girls always felt more comfortable in case he was in a meeting.
Following Addilyn’s abduction and my separation from Giulio, Kayla and I spent months without talking. Last time I reached out to her, she had told me she didn’t want to make things uneasy between knowing Giulio at work and me in her personal life.
Not anymore.
I want to change that.
During these past few months, I’ve lost a lot of people due to the struggles that come with depression, people I thought I would never lose. Having Kayla as a friend again means more than she can ever imagine.
We have lunch together and talk about everything we’ve missed in the last months we didn’t see each other. It feels good knowing I can confide in her again. She tells me of how she’s still in a long-distance relationship with her boyfriend, Zac, who lives in New Zealand and how her brother has moved to Vancouver, Canada to advance in his studies in Performing Arts. I tell her how I’ve been attempting to cope during these months and how anti-depressants have been slowly helping, but that I won’t fully recover until Addilyn is back in my arms.
I’m tempted to go on further about Addilyn, wondering if Kayla shares my hope, but I derail and tell her a few stories of Oscar and Slonne which brightens the mood. I explain how I haven’t touched a paintbrush this entire time except for when I was teaching. I lack both motivation and inspiration, no matter how many times I pray for those bursts of colors to rectify me.
Lee, the new security guard welcomes us with a smile upon returning. He’s someone I lo
oked at once and instantly knew I made the right choice.
“Back so soon?”
“Yes, it was only a quick chat!” I say.
“Good to hear,” the guard smiles. “Oh, I’ll be seeing you at 3 P.M., Mrs. Giannotti. Mr. Giannotti gave orders to accompany you to your car.”
“He did?”
Lee nods, unknowing to the fact Giulio hasn’t made any mention of this to me.
“I’ll be okay. Thank you for the consideration though.”
“Well, it’s quite okay, Mrs. Giannotti. However, I’ll still accompany you to your car.”
“Okay.” I force a tight smile. “Oh, and you can call me Valencia.”
“Of course.”
Kayla turns to me the moment we enter the elevator. “I take it you didn’t know Giulio requested Lee to do that?”
“Not at all. I appreciate the gesture, but it also makes me feel like I’m incapable of getting to my car without something happening, you know what I mean?”
“I know, babe.” She pulls me into a side hug. “But perhaps this is Giulio’s way of lifting the white flag or showing that even through all of the shit happening, he still cares.”
“Just like a picture is worth a thousand words.”
“That’s exactly it, babe.”
My intercom buzzes the moment I sit down at my desk. “Giulio?”
“Not quite, babe. Take another shot.” A thick Cockney accent stumps me.
Huh?
My eyes narrow, until I realize it must be the relatively new interior designer. “Mr. McCarson?”
“The one and only. Aye, why don’t ya com—” He gets cut off as Giulio’s voice takes over. “Valencia, please excuse him. Could you kindly bring me Tate Rogers’ architectural drawing from storage? Thank you.”
The entire storage room towards the design corner is filled with storage cabinets, each with their own compartment and label. I scan across the appointed section until I find the correct white cylinder tube.
In passing, some of the workers in the design center greet me while others are head down in their work. Their dedication impresses me. Crossing the hall to boardroom one, I stop short in front of a mirror. I tuck the tube underneath my arm and focus. Breathe. I can barely look myself in the eyes. Smile more, Zoe’s voice taunts me, you have to move on.
Adjusting my black pencil skirt and tucked-in white blouse, I tell myself I can do this without anybody else’s influence. Everybody copes differently and that’s okay. People will always talk, but I don’t care if people judge me. I can block out everybody…except Giulio.
I can’t block him out.
We were supposed to be teammates, life partners.
How does the dance go when one learns a whole different routine and the other isn’t willing to adapt? That’s exactly what our marriage is now—an unsung melody, an absent dance step, a broken record.
Peering inside the glass-walled boardroom, Giulio sits at the end of the table with six other employees on either side. A full speed in-house meeting is underway. The brightness beaming across the entire room draws a smile to my lips. You can see the Space Needle from here and on not so gloomy days he once told me Mercer Island is also possible.
I step inside without knocking to Giulio addressing his team. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” a man responds. “It may be the only chance to advance the design.”
“Go on. What will it entail?”
“Tate wants no altercations in the west wing; that leaves only the east to compromise.”
“No possible amendments in the south wing?”
“No, I overlooked them. This is why I need some assistance, Mr. Giannotti.”
As I turn to shut the glass door, a loud bang reverberates through the room and everything falls silent except for the immediate exclamation that follows.
“Aye! For fucks sake!”
Holy shit.
I realize the end of the tube tucked under my arm has collided with something hard and I turn to find a man with short dark brown hair, the top tousled back with sides cut to a gradual low fade, clutching the back of his head. My jaw hangs open when he swivels his chair around in my direction.
Not lucky me.
He seems like a tough guy, and an intimidating one at that. His deep green eyes focus on mine with knitted brows. “I only had one brain cell left in me head and ya killed it!” His Cockney accent is new to me.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s alright, babe.” He cuts me off with a wink and his grin widens into a full blown smug smirk. The brazen bitterness from moments ago vanishes. “Ya can make it up to me one day. That’s fair, innit?”
“Bryce!” Giulio sneers. “Leave her alone and enough with the drama.”
Bryce dramatically gapes. “You, calling me dramatic? Have ya ever been personally hit in the head with one of them tunnels of death? My whole life flashed before me eyes.”
So this is what Giulio meant when he said to assist Bryce McCarson sparingly.
Giulio’s gaze meets mine. “Please ignore him. Was it easy to find?”
“Relatively.”
He thanks me as I set the tube down.
I’m mortified by the accident. At least Bryce is only an employee. I don’t want to imagine the outcome if instead of an in-house meeting, it was an important business deal with clients. The thought alone has me cringing inside.
Way to go, Valencia.
Across the table, two older women return to their discussion. They’re in deep conversation and swiping through an iPad between them. On the left side of Bryce sits Lance Hilton, Giulio’s closest friend and project manager at the company. On the right side of him is a man I don’t recognize, the same one who was speaking before my disturbance.
Lance shoots a kind smile my way and I mirror the action.
“Ya leaving without formally introducing yourself?’ Bryce nods towards my hand near the handle. A smirk takes over his face at my parted lips and all of a sudden those green eyes drop the length of my body, slowing at my waist and then again at my legs.
Breathe.
Out of the corner of my eye, I note Giulio watching Bryce, taking in his stance as the Englishman rises to his full height and extends a hand. I reluctantly shake it. Dark shadowed tattoos cross the back of his hand, but I can only make out a detailed rose and a thin cross.
“I think ya like ‘em. Miss…?”
“Mrs,” Giulio jumps in, a hiss in his delivery, “Mrs. Giannotti.”
Bryce takes one good look at me and chuckles. “Aye, Mrs. Giannotti. I thought you two were separated, nah? That’s what they all say, innit true?”
I nod. “We are separated. However, this isn’t a conversation for the office.”
“Well, in that case, a new bar opened up near—”
“For the love of god, Bryce.”
“Oi, shut your mouth, Giannotti! I weren’t even talking to ya. I’m talking to ya Missus.”
“Exactly,” Giulio grits. “You’re talking to my wife about going to a bar during work.”
“And the problem is…?”
“Guys! Let’s just let this go, okay?” My attempt to defuse the tension between the two men does little to help. They’re left glaring at each other, brooding with pressed lips. It’s as if they have some sort of personal vendetta against each other.
I’m definitely missing something.
There’s no denying the confidence that spills from Bryce McCarson. I’ve only known him for a few minutes and he’s already claimed himself to be the type of man who isn’t afraid to say exactly what’s on his mind. A no filter type of guy.
McCarson’s dominant personality intimidates me, even though it shouldn’t. It’s less the tattoos and rather his penetrating stare. How it begins diluted, destined to suck you in for all the wrong reasons. A hint of caramel blooms by his pupils, illuminating the lightest features.
“I ain’t trying to be rude…” Bryce begins. “But is it
possible to call you something other than Mrs Giannotti?”
“You can call me Valencia.”
“Oh, does the ‘cia’ in ya name stand for ‘cute intelligent attractive’ woman?”
“Enough.” Giulio pushes off his chair with so much force his knees slam against the edge of the table. He doesn’t react to the pain, but I know it’s there in his clenched jaw. “Apologize to her right now, McCarson.”
McCarson’s eyes roll. “He doesn’t like to share you, does he? We’ll need to change that cause imma need ya from time to time, Valencia.” His cockney accent thickens and so does the damn plot. It’s wicked the way certain words like ‘you’ change to ‘ya’ whenever he becomes passionate. “You’ll allow me in, won’t ya? Allow me in ya schedule that is. I promise I ain’t that scary.”
I clear my throat.
Smile.
Nod.
Do anything!
I have never met anybody like him before, and now as I stare up at this man with this mysterious aura surrounding him, I’m pretty sure I never will again.
“Of course, Mr. McCarso—”
“Call me Bryce.”
“Okay, Bryce.”
“Hmm, nah. Actually, call me Mr. McCarson.”
“Noted. And once again, I’m so sorry about before, Mr. McCarso—”
“Nah. I don’t like it. Call me Bryce instead of—”
“JAMES!” Everybody turns to Giulio who’s fuming. He rubs his face before directing one hand in the Englishman’s direction. “Well, which one is it? Huh? Your first name? Your last name? Or, should we begin calling you by your middle name instead? You’re being preposterous! Sit down. Don’t you dare play around with anybody else, especially Valencia. Never. Ever. Fucking. Again. Understood?”
Woah.
I have never known Giulio to be this worked up. Especially not the way each word was presented with a staccato pause to emphasize his point. Bryce must really push his buttons.
The room is at a standstill, my heartbeat the only sound blanketed by the white noise. Everybody’s gaze is on Bryce, and his is on me. That smug smirk remains, and all the while, he takes a step closer to me, his bergamot cologne infiltrating my air. “Call me whatever ya want, babe.”
Merciful Vows: A Bittersweet Second Chance Romantic Suspense (The Giannotti World Book 1) Page 7
