A Court Gesture

by Jenny Gardiner

  ~*~

  A week later...

  Sandro dusted off his hands and placed them on his hips, beaming as he gazed at the object of his near-undivided attention for the past six years: the design and building of a massive new headquarters for Romeo wines, a place that would house the offices of Marchesi Romeo wines but also become a tourist destination for wine lovers the world over. It had been Sandro’s dream to create this destination venue, something he’d imagined for several years prior to actually implementing the plan.

  He and his family had collaborated with one of the top Italian architects to envision the one-of-a-kind design of the building, constructed with local materials, intended to keep in harmony with the landscape while remaining environmentally-friendly, energy-efficient, and ultimately to serve as a veritable work of art in the Tuscan countryside. And in a few days, others would finally be able to share in Sandro’s dream-come-true, at the grand opening gala. Guests who would attend included celebrities, political leaders, prominent local officials, and of course family and friends.

  Sandro had reached out to his favorite cousin, Luca, the youngest of the Monaforte princes, to ensure his attendance. Monaforte was a small European principality on the Mediterranean with strong ties to Italy.

  “You know, I’ll disown you if you don’t show up,” Sandro said, teasing his good friend. “I’ll cut off your vino supply—hit you where it’ll hurt most.”

  Luca had for a long time been Sandro’s social sidekick, but last year had settled into a relationship with a European-based American reporter named Larkin Mallory, and now it was as if he barely left the comfort of his living room. Sandro hated how complacent men became once they got “whipped”: always at the woman’s beck and call, never free to do as they pleased.

  Now that Gia was out of the picture, he was going to make sure he didn’t allow a woman to cloud his judgment and create hassles for him ever again. No thank you. The loss of his expensive sports car was a small price to pay to learn that lesson.

  “I’d be crazy not to show up at this one,” Luca said. “It’s the event of the season, I hear. Even homebodies like me will be there.”

  “Homebodies,” his cousin said with a grumble. “Whatever happened to the man I knew who partied till dawn and couldn’t be bothered with such things as commitment?”

  Luca laughed. “You know that was ninety percent urban legend anyhow,” he said. “It’s not like I really caroused that much.”

  “Yeah well sometimes the legend is as true as fact.”

  “That’s what’s wrong with this world.”

  “You’ve become a grumpy old man.”

  “Not grumpy. Happily settled is all,” Luca said. “You should give it a try some time. No more out on the prowl, hoping to get laid without catching any communicable diseases. It’s a good thing.”

  “Hell no,” Sandro said. “You do know about Gia’s latest—and final—batshit crazy maneuver?”

  “Of course,” Luca said. “I always suspected there was something off about that one. Even when you first started dating, she was irrationally demanding. Like when you dragged me to that godforsaken fashion show she was in just so she would have an audience.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said. “Yet one more reason I will never cross paths with a fashion model again. Ever. Those women are the worst. I think they get hangry from lack of food and they get totally pazzo.”

  “Hangry?”

  “It’s a combination of hungry and angry,” he said. “All the worse for Gia, because she’s an Italian girl who can’t eat pasta. Mamma mia, what kind of life is that? Who wouldn’t be crazy like that?”

  “Well in that case I’d better apologize in advance because Larkin is bringing along her friend Taylor to your gala, and, well,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “She’s a fashion model.”

  Sandro shook his head, even though Luca couldn’t see him protesting physically. “No, thank you. I’ll take a pass,” he said. “You can have her all to yourself. If that’s your thing.”

  “If what’s my thing?”

  “If you want to hook up with her.”

  “Are you crazy? I’m perfectly happy with Larkin. Not looking to add anyone into the relationship,” he said. “I was thinking maybe you’d like Taylor. She’s beautiful, of course. But she’s really sweet as well. Completely down to earth.”

  “No. Models. Ever, dude,” he said. “Ever.”

  “Fine, go ahead and punish yourself,” Luca said. “But trust me, you’ll regret it. You’d be lucky if she’d have anything to do with you anyhow.”

  “No doubt,” Sandro said. “But do me a favor, just keep her far, far from me. I want nothing to do with any of those crazy women, and this is a night I want to completely avoid erratic women with bad tempers. So whatever you do, spare me.”

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll respect your wishes. But trust me, you’ll regret it.”

  “To the contrary, mio cugino, it’s for the best,” Sandro said, even though his curiosity was already getting the best of him as he Googled supermodels named Taylor to see exactly what she looked like. Old habits, after all, were hard to break.

  Chapter Two

  Taylor McFarland loved a good black tie party, she thought, taking a final sip of champagne as her plane was about to land in Florence. She’d get to dress in yet another amazing designer gown, and hot men in tuxedos would be plentiful. It was so up her alley. It was why she was on her way to Italy, and this one promised to be particularly fabulous—a spectacular venue in an architecturally-creative structure built into the hillside at some Italian guy’s vineyard. And the wine would be flowing freely.

  What’s not to love? Plus she was joining her good friend Larkin, and Larkin’s boyfriend Luca, and she always had fun with the two of them. Talk about opposites attracting: Larkin had been such a quiet little mouse of a woman when they first met, and Luca, well, he’s a prince, a bit of a bon vivant, and used to the limelight. It was lovely that the two of them found each other, albeit after some struggles. Taylor had helped to spruce up Larkin’s appearance a bit, steering her away from the clothing-as-camouflage manner of dress, and Larkin had taken to it with a vengeance, and had now practically achieved Taylor’s level of clothes-craziness.

  Luca had invited Taylor to join them and to stay at the palazzo owned by his winemaker cousin whose vineyard supposedly made a one of the most famous wines in Tuscany. Luca had promised her that he was a lot of fun, but really, Taylor wasn’t on the prowl anyhow. She was over dealing with men who were nothing but a pain in her butt, thank you. She was perfectly happy to just go and browse the merchandise without making a purchase. Besides, she didn’t have time for dalliances right now; she had much more important things to do than having to tag-team a long-distance relationship anyhow.

  Taylor had recently started a charitable organization called Rags to Riches, to help children who couldn’t afford to buy clothes piece together outfits that would allow them to not feel like such outsiders. Having grown up in a household with a single mother who struggled to pay the bills each month, Taylor knew what it was like to show up to school in the same threadbare outfits all the time: it was demoralizing, and kids loved to taunt the ones who looked like they’d just come in off the streets. If she had a dollar for every time kids called her white trash, she’d have had plenty of money to clothe herself as she was able to now that she had become a famous fashionista. So it was particularly gratifying to be able to help out other children. It might seem like a superficial thing, providing decent clothes to a kid, but having come from those very circumstances of lacking, she totally got what it meant to them and knew that even a little bit of window-dressing could make a difference.

  She figured a lot of powerful people with money would be in attendance at this event, and they were her favorite type to strong-arm into making fabulous donations. A Christie Brinkley lookalike, with gentle blond sun-bleached waves and soft blue eyes, the American supermodel was not beyond
using her looks and stature to get what she wanted, if it helped others in need. She knew wealthy men in particular would never turn down a gorgeous woman in a slinky evening gown soliciting them for funds. Just as long as they didn’t presume she was soliciting anything else.

  After a smooth landing, Taylor was off the plane quickly and through customs in no time at all. As she exited the security area with her luggage, she saw Larkin and Luca practically entwined on a bench near the entryway, oblivious to her existence while they made out like a couple of horny teenagers.

  She wheeled her bag up to them and cleared her throat. “Ahem,” she said, crossing her arms and tapping her toe, staring at them both, her brow arched.

  Larkin detached quickly and blushed. “Oh, Taylor! So sorry! Luca and I were just, uh, getting re-acquainted after being apart for a few minutes while I ran to the restroom.” She grinned as her boyfriend swiped his finger along her lips to remove some excess saliva. Gross. She stood up and gave Taylor a warm embrace.

  “Please,” Taylor said, shaking her head as she hugged her friend. “I’m totally used to PDA when I’m around you two. I would have expected nothing less. I’m just impressed you kept your clothes on.” Larkin gave her a playful smack.

  It did make her laugh how Larkin had gone from such a wallflower to apparently a wild ass. It was nice to see her come into her own.

  “I was merely expressing my affection for Luca like any true Italian would.”

  “Only you’re not Italian.”

  “When in Rome then?” she said.

  “We’re in Florence, duh,” Taylor said.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Luca said, reaching for Larkin’s hand. “Soon she’ll be an official member of the Monaforte royal family. And that means she’ll technically even have some Italian ties, being that my father is one hundred percent hot-blooded Italian. She’ll nearly be Italian herself.” He winked.

  “Oh, my God!” Taylor said with a squeal, pulling Larkin into a hug. “You two are getting married? What? When? How? And I won’t ask why, because, well, that’s obvious.” She grabbed her left hand and lifted it up closely to inspect the three-stone crown-set ring with a center ruby surrounded by old European-cut diamonds.

  “It’s from Monaforte’s crown jewel collection,” Luca said. “I consulted with my mother before choosing this, which belonged to the only other blond member of the royal family, a very distant great-, great-, great-grandmother or something. Mum thought it would be fitting for Larkin to have this ring.”

  “It’s stunning, Larks,” Taylor said, holding her hands up to her face in surprise. “I’m just so overwhelmed about this! But I want to know all of the details!”

  “So we just spent a few days in Venice,” she said. “On the last evening, before a breathtaking sunset on the Grand Canal in front of Piazza San Marco, we were being serenaded by our gondolier when Luca got down on one knee and asked for my hand!”

  “I can’t even believe it,” Taylor said. “Fairytale perfect. Wow. I’m so glad there are still romantic men in the world. I was starting to think they all died in the Pleistocene era.”

  Luca laughed. “Were there humans back then? Or we were still mollusks?”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. “I think humans were just getting started then. Nothing personal, but men are still mollusks, if you ask me.”

  He gave her two thumbs up. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”

  “Aww, poor Taylor has plenty of reason to be sour on men,” Larkin said, squeezing her friend’s hand. “What’s it been, like five guys in a row who ended up only wanting to be with you because you’re a model? And when they found out you actually did things with your life other than look beautiful and decorate their arms, then they walked away? I think the problem is you’ve got to find the right man, and not the Troglodytes you’ve been dating.”

  “Yeah, no more men who want to drag me by the hair back to the cave so that I can prepare a fat brontosaurus steak for him.”

  “I don’t know about you but all this talk of prehistory is making me hungry,” Luca said, rubbing his stomach. “In fact, a good, bloody Florentine steak sounds awesome.”

  “I’m with you,” Taylor said. “I had just enough champagne on the plane to remind me I haven’t eaten since my measly croissant at breakfast.”

  “Perfect,” Larkin said. “We’ve got reservations for dinner in Florence, and we’ll drive down to Sandro’s afterwards.”

  Taylor scrunched her nose. “Speaking of Troglodytes. I know you guys want to fix me up but really, I am so not interested.”

  “Oh, stop,” Larkin said, waving her hand dismissively. “He’s a really sweet guy once you get to know him. I thought he was a jerk at first too but really, I think you’ll like him.”

  “Wow. There’s a ringing endorsement,” Taylor said, arching her brow. “At any rate, you’re sure it’s okay with me tagging along? I mean I’m happy to come to this big fête, but I don’t want to be an imposition.”

  “First off, you, my dear, would never be an imposition,” Luca said. “Secondly, my cousin Alessandro won’t even know you’re there, the place is that big. It’s a palace, literally. A gigantic Renaissance palazzo. It could be days until he knows if any of us are there. Plus I’m sure he’s going to be at the new building overseeing the finishing touches anyhow. So no worries.”

  Taylor shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure. I’d just hate to have the man be mad that I’m invading his space.”

  Luca shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “Besides, he’s always had a thing for models.”

  Taylor rolled her eyes. Yet one more reason she would have exactly nothing to do with that man.

  ~*~

  Red Hot Romeo

  coming October 4, 2016.

  Available now for pre-order!

  About the Author

  Jenny Gardiner is the author of #1 Kindle Bestseller Slim to None and the award-winning novel Sleeping with Ward Cleaver. Her latest works are the It’s Reigning Men series, featuring Something in the Heir; Heir Today Gone Tomorrow; Bad to the Throne; Love is in the Heir; Shame of Thrones; Throne for a Loop; It’s Getting Hot in Heir; A Court Gesture and the upcoming Red Hot Romeo She also published the memoir Winging It: A Memoir of Caring for a Vengeful Parrot Who's Determined to Kill Me, now re-titled Bite Me: a Parrot, a Family and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds; the novels Anywhere but Here; Where the Heart Is; the essay collection Naked Man on Main Street, and Accidentally on Purpose and Compromising Positions (writing as Erin Delany); and is a contributor to the humorous dog anthology I'm Not the Biggest Bitch in This Relationship.

  Her work has been found in Ladies Home Journal, the Washington Post, Marie-Claire.com, and on NPR’s Day to Day. She was also a columnist for Charlottesville’s Daily Progress for over a decade, and is the Volunteer Coordinator for the Virginia Film Festival.

  She has worked as a professional photographer, an orthodontic assistant (learning quite readily that she was not cut out for a career in polyester), a waitress (probably her highest-paying job), a TV reporter, a pre-obituary writer, as well as a publicist to a United States Senator (where she first learned to write fiction). She's photographed Prince Charles (and her assistant husband got him to chuckle!), Elizabeth Taylor, and the president of Uganda. She and her family and menagerie of pets now live a less exotic life in Virginia.

  Visit Jenny at her website and sign up for her newsletter, her blog, or find her on Facebook and Twitter. And every blue moon she’ll post adorable pictures of her pets on Instagram as @thejennygardiner.

  Also by Jenny Gardiner

  Confessions of a Chick Magnet

  Skirt Chaser (Coming Soon)

  Falling for Mr. Wrong

  Falling for Mr. Wrong

  Falling for Mr. Maybe

  Falling for Mr. No Way In Hell

  Falling for Mr. Sometimes

  Falling for Mr. Right

  It's Reigning Men

  Something in the Hei
r

  Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow

  Bad to the Throne

  Love is in the Heir

  Shame of Thrones

  Throne for a Loop

  It's Getting Hot in Heir

  A Court Gesture

  It's Reigning Men - Books 1 - 3

  The Royal Romeos

  Red Hot Romeo

  Black Sheep Romeo

  Red Carpet Romeo

  Blue Collar Romeo

  Silver Spoon Romeo

  Blue-Blooded Romeo

  Big O Romeo

  Standalone

  Sleeping with Ward Cleaver

  Where the Heart Is

  Accidentally on Purpose

  Compromising Positions

  Naked Man on Main Street

  Bite Me - A Parrot, a Family, and a Whole Lot of Flesh Wounds

  Anywhere but Here

  Slim to None

  Watch for more at Jenny Gardiner’s site.