by Pamela Yaye
Dante picked up his tumbler, and tasted his cognac. “Back in the day I dated a Kenyan girl who used to drag me around to casting calls, and I learned a few things about the business watching her jump through hoops trying to impress directors and producers.”
“What happened to her? Did she make it in Hollywood?”
“Have you seen With Just One Kiss?”
Jordana squealed. “No way! Get out of here! You dated Ashante Starr? ”
“I’ll never tell,” he said, flashing a boyish grin. “My lips are sealed.”
“You’re obviously an expert, so give me some more pointers.”
Dante thought she was being sarcastic, teasing him about his past, but her eyes were bright with interest and she eagerly nodded as he spoke. “Jordana, you’re doing great, but it could be better. You seem resigned, not angry. But if someone rear-ended me on my way to work, I’d be pissed.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m definitely right,” he said, with a wink and a nod.
“I’ll try the scene again. I know I can do better.”
“That’s the spirit, Jordana. With that attitude you’ll be a household name in no time.”
Her face lit up, and his chest inflated with pride.
“Okay,” she said, with a nervous smile. “Here goes.”
Jordana read her lines, but this time she didn’t hold back, and gave it her all. Blown away by her sudden transformation, Dante leaned forward in his chair. If he hadn’t known her, he’d have thought she was an actress at the top of her game. She’d taken his advice, resulting in a powerful, emotional scene. Proud of her, he wanted to swoop her up in his arms and spin her around the room. Fear of looking sprung kept Dante in his chair and his hands in his lap.
His eyes took her in, raked over her body, noting every detail. Her dewy skin, moist, red lips, her Lord-have-mercy shape. Waking up that morning, their hands and legs were intertwined. Dante realized he didn’t want to leave her side. He’d called his assistant, told her he’d be working from home and asked her to forward only important calls to his cell phone. Then he’d rolled over, pulled Jordana back into his arms and whispered sweet words in her ears.
Thinking about their morning quickie made his heart thump and sweat drench his body. Her loving had surpassed his wildest dreams. He’d never been intimate with someone who’d matched his drive, his intensity, and making love to her was the highlight of every day. Jordana was loud and expressive, passionate and eager. Her raunchy sex talk had spurred the most powerful orgasm he’d ever had. Hours later, he could still hear her voice in his ears, chanting his name, begging for more. Wanting her now, he imagined himself bending her over his chair, yanking off her panties and taking her from behind.
Harder than steel, his erection stabbed the zipper of his jeans, desperate for release. Dante heard his phone ring, suspected it was Markos calling to brag about his winning tee shot and took his cell out of the cup holder.
A sneer curled his lips, and a bitter taste filled his mouth. Lourdes was driving him crazy, a pain in the ass in Versace, and he had nothing to say to her. Deciding to let the call go to voice mail, he made a mental note to speak to Markos about their impending custody hearing.
“How was that? Any better?”
Dante glanced up from his phone, saw the hopeful expression on Jordana’s face and pumped his fist in the air. “Baby, you killed it! That role is yours for the taking.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Absolutely. Walk into that audition tomorrow as if you already have the part. That’s how I approach every business deal. With confidence and boldness. It’s the secret to my success, and my nothing-can-stop-me attitude has never failed me, not even when the chips were stacked against me and my boss counted me out.”
Jordana strode across the room and sat down beside him.
“Knock ’em dead tomorrow. You’re a Morretti now, and that’s how we roll.”
“I will,” she promised. “I’m going to use all your tips and suggestions, as well.”
Dante popped his shirt collar. “That would be the smart thing to do. I’m always right, and the sooner you realize it the happier you’ll be.”
“I just love your humility. It’s so endearing,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
They shared a laugh, gazed at each other affectionately, and Dante realized there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. He took her hand in his, held it tight, then gently caressed her fingers and wrist. It took every ounce of self-control not to crush his lips to her mouth and kiss her until he’d had his fill. If that was even possible. That morning in the shower proved he couldn’t get enough of her, and if he had his way they’d spend the rest of the day in bed, living out their wildest fantasies. Dante could almost hear her moans now, envisioned the expression on her face as she climaxed and wondered if Jordana was in the mood, too. Sexually in sync, she never spurned his affections and often made the first move.
And Dante loved it. At the office, he gave orders, but at home Jordana called the shots. That suited him just fine. More persuasive than a politician, she’d convinced him to take a few days off work. Although his boss had cursed him out for missing his birthday bash at a posh nightclub, Dante didn’t regret his decision. His family came first, and he never wanted his son to doubt his love.
Recalling the events of the past week brought a proud smile to his mouth. Matteo was thriving, and Dante had Jordana to thank. On Friday, they’d spent the morning exploring the Kids Discovery Center with Matteo, and in the afternoon sampled organic fruits and vegetables at the farmers’ market. The following morning they’d gotten up early, packed the cooler with lunch and drove the thirty miles to Emma Wood State Beach to swim, fish and surf. It was the most fun he’d had in months, and he’d enjoyed goofing around with Matteo. Yesterday, to his son’s delight, they’d “camped” in the backyard. They’d played board games, roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire pit, and shared ghost stories. Once Matteo fell asleep, Dante had carried him inside to bed. He’d woken up with a big, fat smile on his face, anxious to go to school to tell his classmates about all of the cool things he’d done over the weekend.
“Thanks for helping me practice. I know how busy you are, and I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t tell me,” he said smoothly, slowly licking his lips. “Show me.”
She laughed, and the sound made him feel ten feet high, as if he’d just hit a hole in one.
“Jordana, I’ll do anything for you. We’re family now, and I’ll always have your back.”
For the second time in minutes, his cell rang and he glanced at it. Damn. Dante was sick of Lourdes blowing up his phone. But if he continued to ignore her calls she’d probably show up at his office again, and Dante didn’t want his colleagues to know about his personal problems.
Putting the phone to his ear, he spoke through clenched teeth. “What. Do. You. Want?” he snapped, wishing she’d leave him the hell alone. Mindful of Jordana listening in, he chose his words carefully. Arguing with Lourdes always put him in a bad mood, and he didn’t want his ex-wife to ruin his day. He’d made lunch reservations at The Swan Bistro, a cozy eatery in Orange County popular with reality stars, fashion icons and sports legends, and Dante was confident Jordana would love the romantic ambience and the vegan menu. “I told you to stop calling me and I meant it—”
“I miss Matteo. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and I’m dying without him.”
“You should have thought about that before your afternoon booze fest.”
“And you’re perfect, right?”
“No, but I’m not stupid enough to drive drunk.”
“You’re an asshole!”
“And you’re a—” Dante saw Jordana cringe, and swallowed the insult on the tip of his tongue. “‘Bye, Lourdes. Have a nice life.�
��
“Dante, wait! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He stared down at the phone, surprised by her apology. “What do you want?” he asked, unmoved by her woe-is-me act. “I’m busy, and I don’t have the time to shoot the breeze.”
“I—I—I need your help...” she stammered.
Her voice was so low Dante had to strain to hear what she was saying. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lourdes interrupted him, and he lost his train of thought.
“My attorney said if I want to get Matteo back I have to go to rehab, but I can’t afford Destination Wellness,” she explained. “I promise to repay you once I’m back on my feet.”
“That’s not my problem, so I suggest you ask your boyfriend, because I’m not an ATM.”
“We broke up... I told him I wouldn’t be moving to Boston, and he dumped me.”
Dante wanted to shout for joy, but tempered his excitement. His biggest fear was losing his son, of not being around to watch him grow up. Learning his ex-wife’s plans had fallen through was a huge weight off his shoulders.
“Dante, I know things have been tense between us since the divorce, but I’d like to start over. Let’s put the past behind us, and work together to raise our son.”
Disgusted, he snorted a laugh. Did Lourdes think he was stupid? Where was this benevolence and maturity when she was blackmailing him for half a million dollars? Her request was outrageous, the funniest thing he’d heard all day, and he refused to consider it. He didn’t trust her, and he never would. “I have to go.”
Dante hung up the phone, turned off the volume and returned it to the cup holder.
“How is Lourdes doing?”
“Who cares? I have better things to do with my time than worry about her.”
“I understand that, Dante, but you share a son, and Matteo misses her desperately.”
Filled with regret, he felt a pang of guilt. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Jordana the truth, couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. She wouldn’t understand the choices he’d made, and he knew if he told Jordana what he’d done, she’d be disappointed in him. He didn’t want to destroy their strong bond.
“When will Lourdes be out of rehab? Matteo is anxious to see her, and I bet she’s—”
“Jordana, drop it. I don’t want to talk about my ex or her screwed-up life.”
“I hate when you do that.”
Dantecocked an eyebrow. “Do what?”
“Shut me out.”
“Jordana, calm down. You’re overreacting and getting worked up over nothing.”
“No, I’m not. Every time I ask you about Lourdes, or try to organize a visit for Matteo, you shut me down,” she argued. “Don’t worry. I get it. I know what’s up. I’m good enough to screw, but I’m not good enough to confide in, right?”
Her bitter tone and hostile expression shocked him.
“Whoa,” he said, slipping an arm around her shoulders, and pulling her in close. “Where did that come from? Is that what you think? That all I care about is sex?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Of course not. We’re a team, and I respect your opinion.”
“Then act like it.”
Dante opened his mouth, but couldn’t find the words to say, and closed it.
“When I ask you about Lourdes, you treat me like a nuisance. It’s frustrating.”
“Baby, I’m sorry I made you feel that way. That was never my intention.” He kissed her forehead, but her frown remained. “Please don’t be mad. I have a great day planned for us, and a special surprise for you this evening.”
A smile brightened her face, and Dante knew he was back in her good book.
“Are you taking me to the opera?” she asked.
Now it was his turn to frown. “I hate the opera.”
“And I hate gangster rap but I didn’t complain when you dragged me to that god-awful concert last Thursday. I got out of bed, made myself beautiful and pretended to enjoy myself even though I was bored out of my mind.”
“Why don’t you go see Madame Butterfly one day next week with Waverly?”
“Because you’re my husband, and I want to go with you.”
Grinning, he tightened his grip on her shoulder with one hand, and cupped his ear with the other. “I missed that. Say it again. What did you call me?”
“My husband.”
“I love the sound of that.”
Jordana linked her arms around his neck, pulled him in close and licked her full, moist lips suggestively. “You smell good enough to eat, and I’m starving,” she whispered, spraying kisses on his ears and along his jawline. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
His body was—he had the erection to prove it—but his heart wasn’t into it. Not now. Not after their heated conversation minutes earlier. Dante didn’t want Jordana to think, not even for a second, that all he cared about was sex. Besides, there’d be plenty of time for makeup sex later, and he’d show her then how much he adored her. He would prove to her that she was the only woman he wanted in his bed, and in his life. “Baby, we can’t,” he said, determined to be the voice of reason. It was a challenge, because all he wanted to do was love her, but he remained strong. “We have one o’clock reservations at The Swan Bistro & Café—”
“Then we better make this quick.” Her smile was cheeky, tinged with mischief, and her voice as seductive as sin. “Don’t move.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good, because I have a feeling you’re going to like this.”
Jordana dropped to her knees, freed his erection from his jeans and sucked it into her mouth. Chills overtook his body, causing his brain to short-circuit and his eyes to roll in the back of his head. Dante held his breath, marveling at all the tricks she could do with her teeth and tongue. Her technique gave him a rush, and made him feel like “the man.” Scared he was going to explode, he ended their session before it had even started, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. Her lips were sweet, addictive, flavored with tropical fruit. They’d had smoothies at breakfast, and he could taste traces of kiwi and guava on her tongue.
Sliding a hand under her dress, he was excited to feel her warm, bare skin. No panties, no bra, no problem. He cupped her breasts in his hands, caressed them, stroked them, felt her nipples harden as he mashed them together and sucked one, then the other nipple into his mouth.
“Do you have a condom?”
“No,” he managed, between licks, “we finished the box this morning.”
Jordana bit down on her bottom lip, looked pensive, suddenly unsure of herself.
“Why does it matter? We’re happily married, and financially stable. We can fill this entire estate with kids if we want.”
“Our relationship is complicated enough without adding a baby to the mix.”
He made his nose twitch and his bottom lip tremble to pretend he was on the verge of tears. “You don’t want to have my baby? Why not? It’s Markos, isn’t it? You’re scared he’ll be a bad influence on our little one, aren’t you?”
Tossing her head back, she burst out laughing, filling the room with the infectious sound.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, softly kissing his lips. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Dante winked. “The freakier the better.”
Chapter 16
Jordana pulled into the Beverly Hills Preschool Academy parking lot at three o’clock, found an empty space in front of the chain-link fence and turned off the ignition. Lowering the radio, she took her cell phone out of her leather tote bag and typed in her password. She had three missed calls: one from her mom and two from Fallon. She hadn’t booked her mom’s plane ticket yet. She planned to hold off until she talked to D
ante about Helene’s visit first. She would give him the heads-up about her mom tonight at dinner.
Listening to Fallon’s voice mail caused a scowl to pinch her cheeks. She was reluctant to call her agent back, had no desire to speak to her. On Saturday morning, when they’d met for tea at her favorite downtown café, Fallon had insinuated that she wasn’t taking her acting career seriously, and three days later her words still stung. It’s not my fault I didn’t get a starring role in Tyler Perry’s new romantic comedy, she thought, releasing a heavy sigh. And I won’t let Fallon make me feel guilty about it. Why did she have to bash me? Why couldn’t she be supporting and encouraging like Dante?
Troubled by her thoughts, she stared out the windshield. The sky was covered with thick, gray clouds, and the wind howled through the trees. These days, Jordana was busier than ever, but she loved her wonderful new life. Her days were filled with acting class, auditions and casting calls. Most days, after picking up Matteo from school they’d swing by The Brokerage Group for a short visit with Dante. He was always happy to see them, proudly showed them off to his colleagues and had healthy snacks waiting in his office for Matteo. Jordana felt herself changing as a person, improving as an actress, and she owed her newfound confidence to Dante. He read lines with her every night, was judicious with his praise and criticism, and unlike Fallon, championed her hopes and dreams.
Her cell phone rang, and after checking the number she put it to her ear. “Hey, Fallon, what’s up?” she said with fake enthusiasm. “How’s it going?”
“Good news! Renegade wants you to play his love interest in his music video!”
Jordana shrieked. “No way!”
“Yes way! I’m holding the contract in my hands as we speak—”
“Shut up, that’s crazy. I never dreamed I’d get the part.”
“You’re in, girlfriend, and there’s more,” Fallon continued enthusiastically. “The director loves your natural, Bohemian look and wants you to audition for his romantic thriller.”
Filled with excitement, Jordana danced around in her seat. “This must be my lucky day. It’s about time because I’ve been busting my butt for years with no success.”
