by Leah Wilde
Fiona tapped her fingers impatiently on the surface of the desk, grimacing a little as she looked at Vince. “Look, I’m just here to help you succeed, okay? That’s all. If shit hits the fan because you weren’t paying attention, that’s going to come around and bite you in the ass, not me.”
“True,” Vince said, nodding in agreement.
Fiona sighed and shook her head. “But the truth is, I’m just wasting my time here. Maybe your mother is right. Maybe I shouldn’t work here anymore.”
“Paulie left you to me, though,” Vince said reflexively, inwardly cringing a bit at how awkwardly he’d phrased that. A person couldn’t be granted to another person like any other object, but he couldn’t deny that something in his loins stirred a little bit at the idea that Fiona belonged to him now. He decided to press on, continuing to argue his point even though Fiona looked more and more dejected as the seconds ticked by. “Look, don’t listen to my crazy mother. She doesn’t know anything.”
“She knows a lot about the business,” Fiona retorted. “She’s been around it for thirty years, right?”
“She doesn’t know anything about me,” Vince said back. “I know I haven’t been paying close attention just now, but I feel like you and I could be good team. Just give me a couple days to prove it to you.”
Fiona dragged her lower teeth over her upper lip, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head as she considered Vince’s proposition. “I don’t know…” she said after a moment of silence.
“One night, then,” Vince said. “Just give me one night to prove we’d work well together.”
Fiona raised one eyebrow, looking skeptical. “When?”
“Tonight,” Vince said without thinking. “Let’s have dinner and talk about it.”
Fiona sighed and shook her head. “Listen, I don’t mean to be a jerk or anything, but I can’t mix my personal life up with my professional one. It just gets too messy.”
“I understand that,” Vince said, quickly rebounding her from her rejection. “Believe me, it wouldn’t be personal. It’s just about business. We can discuss the latest deals that my father was working on before he passed.”
Fiona stared at him for a long moment, narrowing her eyes a little as she considered his offer. Vince felt a little thrill of anticipation go down his spine, coursing into the bones of his hands and fingers, but he stayed still, not wanting to betray how nervous and excited he was for her response. There was something exhilarating about being judged by her, having her decide if he was worth her time or not. Although he was a Dom, he wasn’t interested in exerting control over weak people. A submissive partner would only appeal to him if she had the strength to resist and chose not to. Clearly, Fiona had plenty of inner strength to spare, in addition to razor-sharp intelligence. It made his heart pound faster, just watching how her mind calculated the risks and benefits of his offer. But at the same time, she was taking so long to come to a conclusion that Vince felt like he was going to lose his mind.
“Look, you deserve a nice dinner after what I put you through today,” Vince said with a shrug, inwardly praying that it wasn’t obvious how much he wanted her to accept his offer. “This is my dad’s office, okay? I’m not comfortable here. Let’s talk about the business over some nice wine, all right? That way, I won’t get distracted.”
Fiona tilted her head to one side, still silent as she considered his latest offers. Vince held his breath as she thought over the proposition. Just when he thought he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, she finally spoke again. “All right. One night. One dinner. But no funny business, all right? Otherwise, I’m gone, and you’ll have to figure out all the files yourself.”
“Got it,” Vince said with a grin, feeling victorious. “Take the rest of the day off and meet me at my penthouse at 8 PM. One of the servants will give you the address.”
Fiona hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “Are you sure? I can help you go through some of your father’s financial paperwork if you want. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”
“Yeah, but none of it is going to get done today,” Vince said truthfully. He’d pushed the fact of his father’s death to the back of his mind, procrastinating the task of processing the reality of the situation for later, but it was still hanging over everything like a row of storm clouds.
“I suppose that’s fair,” Fiona said, nodding slowly. She sighed and began to place some of the files back in their proper location. “Okay. I’ll see you tonight, then?”
“You definitely will,” Vince promised, permitting himself to gape at Fiona’s thick, curvy backside as she walked away.
As soon as she left the room, Vince jumped to his feet and began pacing back and forth, from one edge of the office to another, over and over again. His whole body was jittery, full of sensations that he hadn’t felt in so long. It was like all of his skin was itching, but he didn’t want to scratch it. He wanted to feel the pain, feel the temptation, feel the ache. He wanted to prolong his satisfaction as long as possible. But when I do let loose, he thought to himself, oh, boy, I’m going to fucking take her apart. She may be strong in the boardroom, guiding me this way and that, but in the bedroom, she’s going to be all mine.
Chapter Five
Fiona stood outside an upscale building in Hoboken, feeling her palms go sticky with sweat and her breaths become shorter as she stared up to the top floor, where Vince was presumably waiting for her, assuming that she’d gotten the right address from the servants at the Romano compound. “Shit, shit, shit, what am I doing?” she muttered under her breath, turning to look at the skyline behind her. She supposed she could call a cab to get her out of this situation, but she was far away from her apartment, and she wasn’t even sure her cell phone got service out here in this relatively secluded area. And anyway, she really needed this job, really fucking badly. She couldn’t afford to let it go just because she was intimidated by her new boss—not that she would ever admit that fact out loud. So far, it seemed like he’d believed she was a tough, no-nonsense professional who wasn’t to be fucked with. As long as she kept up her walls and didn’t let him get too close during their dinner, she could maintain a certain level of distance that was necessary for any professional relationship to function.
“Phew, okay,” she said, having mentally reassured herself. After squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine, she strode into the building with as much confidence as she could muster and took the elevator to the top floor.
She walked up to the front door of Vince’s penthouse apartment, wringing her hands for a moment as one last spark of fear reverberated throughout her body right before she hit the doorbell as firmly as possible. Fuck it. There was no turning back now.
Vince opened the door a few moments later, appearing out of the shadows with a broad smile on his face, dressed impeccably in a spotless suit. “Hi, Fiona. So glad you found the place okay,” he said before opening the door wider so Fiona could step inside.
“Thanks,” Fiona said, saying a silent prayer of gratitude that she’d opted for a nice black dress rather than staying in her drab work clothes from earlier. It wasn’t like she cared about how she looked, but she would have felt awkward if she’d been underdressed, especially in such a nice apartment.
“Here, I’ll take your jacket,” Vince said, offering his hand forward to take the light coat that Fiona was wearing over her dress. He hung the jacket up in the closet just inside the apartment, then gestured for Fiona to follow him deeper inside.
The place was, in a word, ridiculous, in the best way possible. There was a giant crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling, casting an ethereal golden light over the entire den and kitchen area. Every surface was spotless, shining so brightly that Fiona could see her own reflection. Classic black furniture filled each room that she could see, and deep red curtains hung from every window, but they were pulled back to reveal a view of the stars. The apartment looked so extravagant that it was
almost tacky, but somehow, it seemed to fit Vince’s personality. He was the type of person that seemed to buzz with energy even when sitting still, yet at the same time, there was something calming about him, too. He was like a great big glittering ocean—one minute he was a rush of energy, filling her with anxiety, and then the next minute, he soothed it all away, like the tide carrying away flecks of sand. Even though she’d just met him earlier that day, she felt like she’d known him for years. Now, as she watched him crack open a bottle of wine in the kitchen, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was more of Paulie in him than she originally thought.
“Do you like red wine?” Vince asked as he poured out a glass.
“Sure, as much as anybody does,” Fiona replied.
Vince chuckled lightly and poured out another glass before handing one over to Fiona. “There’s liking it and then there’s loving it, I suppose. As for me, I can’t talk business without it. It’s just how I was raised.”
After Fiona accepted her glass of wine, Vince gently tapped their glasses together. “What are you toasting?” Fiona asked. For some reason, that question must have seemed amusing to Vince, as he suddenly grinned, his teeth shining brightly under the lights hanging above them. “What?” she asked again, feeling a wave of heat rush up her back and lower neck, her nerves getting the best of her.
“Oh, nothing, it’s nothing,” Vince said, chuckling a little. But his eyes gleamed with something, some secret knowledge that Fiona was now desperate to uncover. “Just toast with me, come on.”
“Not until you tell me what we’re toasting,” Fiona said, her skin now prickling with some weird mixture of discomfort and anticipation. She needed to know what was so funny. She had a horrible feeling that he was mocking her somehow, that she’d made some horrible “poor person” mistake that betrayed her lowly upbringing.
“I promise to tell you after dinner,” Vince said. “But let’s eat first. It’ll be funnier after you get a few glasses of wine in you. Come on, toast with me.”
Fiona was tempted to chew on her upper lip, just to do something to exorcise some of the anxiety simmering on her skin, but she didn’t want to mess up her lipstick, so instead, she just nodded and pushed her glass together with Vince’s. “To…whatever,” she announced a little sarcastically.
“To whatever, indeed,” Vince said before tipping his glass back. As he lowered his glass again, Fiona thought she caught some glint of hunger in Vince’s eyes, something feral and primal and desperate. But she shook her head at herself, sipping at her wine and telling herself that it was just a trick of the light. He’s just a normal guy, she said to herself. Okay, a normal guy with a ludicrously nice apartment, but just a guy nonetheless.
For whatever reason, she couldn’t exactly convince herself that was true, but somehow, she didn’t feel scared. Her spine burned with something, but it wasn’t fear or anxiety or even regular-old nervousness anymore. It was desire, a deep, urgent need to know more about the man standing across from her.
She tried as hard as she could to play it cool, acting as disinterested as possible as she sipped at the wine, careful not to get too drunk too quickly. “So, tell me, why do you think your dad named you as his heir instead of Guido?”
Before answering her question, Vince drained the rest of his glass, immediately grabbing the bottle to fill it up again. “I don’t think I can answer that.”
“Why not?” Fiona asked
“Because I don’t know the answer,” Vince said with a wry smile. “I haven’t even talked to my dad in, like, six months, and even then, it was just a two-minute phone conversation. I’m just about the biggest disappointment in Romano family history.”
“Go on,” Fiona said, leaning against the counter behind her back.
Vince smiled again, but it was shyer this time, a little more guarded. “Well, you know. You saw it today. I can’t focus on anything. My mind wanders and goes…other places.” He took another drink of his wine, but he kept his eyes trained on Fiona’s, causing her to feel a little shiver go up her spine. She tried as hard as she could to stay still, not to squirm as a result of his penetrating gaze, but if the smile on his face was any indication, she failed in that endeavor.
“Like what other places? Where does your mind go?” Fiona asked, feeling her heart begin to pound lightly in her throat, a flutter of a heartbeat that she could almost taste against her tongue. She didn’t know why she felt so excited, so on-edge about knowing the private details of Vince Romano’s mind, but for whatever reason, it felt urgent to uncover them.
“Why does it matter?” Vince said flatly, shrugging a little. “They’re the wrong places. That’s the whole point.”
Fiona stared at him a minute before coming up with an excuse for why she needed to know where his mind wandered. “I think maybe I took the wrong approach with you,” Fiona said, scratching her chin in thought. “I should have found out what areas of the business you were interested in first and then taken it from there. It’s really my fault, not yours.”
Vince looked at her skeptically, rolling his eyes a little as he took another sip of his wine. “Women always do that.”
“Do what?” Fiona asked.
“Make excuses for men. Blame themselves. Act like they didn’t do the right thing. Come on, you know that’s bullshit. I wasn’t paying attention. It was disrespectful to you when you were devoting your time trying to help me.”
Fiona laughed a little, then, surprising herself at the loud noise that left her own throat. She recovered quickly, though, clearing her throat and refocusing her attention back down on her wine glass. “Fair enough,” she said. “Still, though, I’d like to know what you find most interesting about the business. Unless you don’t find anything interesting about it, in which case maybe the best course of action would be to turn things over to Guido.”
Vince physically flinched a little at that, his eyebrows furrowing together for a moment before he relaxed his face again, shrugging again like he didn’t care about the family business at all. “Maybe,” he said, but before either of them could say anything else, the door rang again. “Ah, that’ll be Yuri with dinner.”
“Yuri?” Fiona asked.
“My chef,” Vince explained as he headed toward the front door again, ushering his chef inside along with a tray full of food. “You can set up on the dining room table, Yuri, thank you.”
Fiona watched as Vince’s chef set up in the dining room, which was just beyond the kitchen and den. She’d expected a long, thin dining room table, but instead, there was just a small circular one, only fit for two people. Fiona wondered if Vince ever entertained anyone other than dates here, feeling a little thrill of fear and anticipation go up her spine.
“Thank you, Yuri,” Vince said to his chef as he handed him a handful of bills. “I’ll see you later.” The chef left without saying a single word to Fiona, and Vince locked the door after him, making the lump in Fiona’s throat grow. She wasn’t scared, exactly. She knew, in a kind of instinctive way, that Vince wasn’t going to hurt her. But she still had no way of predicting what he was going to do or say. He was such a mystery, so different from his mother and brother, who were both so easy to read.
“What’s for dinner?” Fiona asked, stepping closer to the food, which smelled amazing. Her stomach growled a little, but if Vince heard the noise, he was too polite to mention it.
“The works,” Vince said with another mischievous grin. “Filet mignon, asparagus, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, dessert…” He trailed off, walking past Fiona to the dining room table and pulling out one chair. “Here, come sit. I’ll bring the bottle of wine over.”
Fiona did as she was instructed, folding her hands neatly in her lap, even though, at this point, her stomach was clawing at its own insides, desperate to dig into something hearty and filling.
A moment later, Vince returned with the bottle of wine, pouring more into Fiona’s glass, even though it was still half-full. He set a plate down in fr
ont of her and opened the packages of steaming hot food, placing healthy portions of each option on Fiona’s plate before serving himself and finally sitting down across from her.
Fiona stared down at the food for a long moment, wanting to take a mental picture of this meal before her mouth totally demolished it. She was so excited, her feet started kicking forward like she was a little girl, but then she reared back a second later after she accidentally kicked Vince’s foot, unaware of how close together they were at the small table. “Fuck, sorry,” Fiona said softly, feeling herself blush hotly in embarrassment.
“No worries,” Vince said. “A tiny bit of pain never killed anyone.”
Fiona felt herself smiling, despite the fact that she didn’t even understand what he meant by that. There was just something so charming and reassuring about his warm smile. She couldn’t keep herself from returning the favor, until she was practically grinning at him as she finally dug into her food.
