Gemma leaned forward, whispering even though he was too far away to hear them. “I figured out what’s going on with Dad. You’re not the only Romano who didn’t make it home last night.”
Jess and Livie gasped. “Dad didn’t come home last night?”
“Where did he go?” Livie asked, eyes wide. “What was he doing all night?”
Gemma raised her eyebrows suggestively. “What do you think he was doing all night?”
Livie turned pale as Gemma’s meaning sank in. “No! Dad? And...”
“Who?” Jess interjected. “Who was he with?” Their dad hadn’t dated anyone since their mother died. The idea that he’d been shacked up with someone last night... Jess was floored.
“Well.” Gemma leaned forward, eyes alight with glee as she prepared to impart some extremely juicy gossip. “You know Teresa Fiorello?”
“She’s from the neighborhood, yeah?” Jess said. “She went to school with Mom and Dad. I thought she lived in Jersey.”
“She did, when she was married. But she got divorced three years ago and moved back home to Second Place, to take care of her mom. She comes into the bar sometimes with her girlfriends from the neighborhood. Girls’ Night Out, white wine spritzers, and gossip, you know the deal. And, of course, she’s known Dad since high school, so they always talk. Well, last night, she shows up by herself.”
“Alone?” Livie asked.
“That’s what ‘by yourself’ means, Livie. Yeah, totally alone. And when Dad says hello, I could swear he wasn’t surprised to see her. Like, he was expecting her or something. So she sits at the end of the bar, and for the rest of the night, whenever we’re not busy, Dad’s holding down that end of the bar, too, chatting with Teresa.”
“Wow.” Jess couldn’t imagine her dad flirting with any woman. Inconceivable.
“So then he sends me home at midnight and says he’ll close up on his own. When I left, Teresa was still there. But one a.m. comes and goes and he doesn’t come home. So I tracked his phone, just to be sure he was okay, you know? And where do you think it told me he was? Teresa’s house on Second Place.”
“Oh, my God,” Jess breathed.
Livie looked baffled. “Dad has a...girlfriend?”
“I guess that’s...”
“It’s weird,” Livie said.
“Well, yeah,” Jess conceded. “But Dad’s only fifty-two. That’s not so old.”
“And he’s still a good-looking guy,” Gemma said.
“Eeeww,” Livie protested.
“Well, it’s true. Dad’s a hottie, in his way. You should see the way all of Teresa’s married friends check him out when they come in.”
Jess held up a hand. “I don’t want to know this.”
“I’m just saying... Mom’s been gone a long time and he hasn’t dated anybody else.”
“I kind of forgot he could,” Livie complained, making a face.
“What’s she like?” Jess asked. “Teresa?” Frankly, it was hard to imagine what kind of woman might appeal to her father, since he’d been irrevocably linked to her mother forever.
Gemma shrugged. “She’s pretty. She seems nice.”
Livie sat back in her chair. “Wow. Dad has a girlfriend.”
The three sisters exchanged a look before Jess planted her hands on the table and shoved to her feet. “I’m officially at my limit for mind-blowing stuff happening in a twenty-four-hour period. I’m going back to bed, too.”
“Wow, everybody’s so tired today,” Gemma teased.
Jess rolled her eyes and laughed, the fatigue making itself known in every inch of her body. “Shut up, Gemma.” Ducking between Livie and Gemma, she kissed them each briefly on the cheek. “I’m glad we’re all here.”
Gemma reached up to brush a hand across her hair. “Me, too.”
Upstairs, Jess shed her stale clothes and climbed into bed. A thousand things crowded the edges of her mind, so many problems she needed to solve. Whenever her thoughts touched on the paper, and what had happened yesterday, she felt sick with misery. So she pushed all thoughts of it away, to be dealt with later. As she sank into sleep, she focused on the one thing—the one person—that was good. She thought about Alex, remembering his kisses and his body and the way he made her feel, and she counted the hours until she would see him again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I can’t believe you think it’s okay that the Times ignored the embargo on the story.”
“I’m not saying I agree with what they did, but the fact of the matter is, an embargo is nothing more than a gentleman’s agreement. There’s no legal violation at play here.”
“It violates standard journalistic practice.”
“Which is changing all the time. It was already leaking all over social media. What were they supposed to do? Ignore the story?”
“But—”
Alex kissed her. Hard. Then softening until she was melting into him.
When he drew back, she blinked. “You can’t always shut me up with a kiss.”
He grinned. “Trust me, I’m not trying to shut you up. I like arguing with you. We just need to decide where we’re eating.”
“Oh, right.”
Omar was still driving them south through Manhattan, with no definite destination in mind.
“There’s a great place in the Meatpacking District—” Alex began, but Jess silenced him with two fingers placed across his lips.
“I know exactly where we’re going to eat,” she said. “Omar, can you drop us off at Gramercy Park?”
“Sure thing, Miss Romano.”
Ten minutes later, they stood at the edge of Gramercy Park, looking east.
“You want to go to Shake Shack?” Alex asked in bewilderment.
Jess laughed. “Shake Shack is for tourists. Come on. We’re going to go find Jesús.” She took his hand and towed him after her through the park as she checked her food truck app. It said he was here today, but it wasn’t always accurate. As they neared the north side she spotted him. “Oh, good, he’s still here.”
Alex slowed until he’d come to a stop. “Tell me this isn’t—”
“Hot dogs!” she said brightly.
Alex groaned. “Seriously?”
“Hey, I’m starting you off easy. We’re going to Jesús’s food truck for gourmet dogs. I could just dive in at the deep end with some random hot dog cart in Midtown.”
“I’m drawing the line at that.” Alex’s face was filled with a combination of apprehension and distaste. He was so adorable when he was outraged.
“Come on, you big snob. I promise you, you’ll be converted.”
The line at Jesús’s Holy Dogs wasn’t long. When they reached the front, Jess rattled off her order with an ease born of frequent practice.
“A Hail Mary Dog, with chili, cheddar, green onions, and jalapenos. And an extra-large order of fries.”
Alex stared down at her. “Are you serious?”
“I would never joke about hot dog toppings. And they have great fries.”
The guy working the window jerked his chin at Alex. “What’ll ya have?”
“I have no idea.”
“Start with the Hail Mary.”
He laughed. “If you say so. A Hail Mary Dog. With mustard.”
The guy at the window looked at him expectantly. “And?”
“That’s it. Just mustard.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “We’re going to have to expand your topping horizons.”
They found seats on a park bench nearby, just off the sidewalk winding through the park. It was cold out, but there was no wind, so it wasn’t as unpleasant as it might have been.
“Umph.” Jess let out a moan of delight through the first bite.
Alex watched her eat for a minute. “I can’t believe you’re going to eat all that.�
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“I wouldn’t have ordered it if I didn’t intend to eat it.”
“I’m not sure if I’m terrified or impressed.”
“Impressed. Here, try it.” She held her hot dog up to his face, laughing at his expression. “Come on, try it.”
“Okay, fine.” Alex relented, taking a larger bite than she expected.
“Well?”
He chewed his way through it, muttering, “It’s not bad.”
She was still laughing when a female voice called Alex’s name. “Alex? I thought that was you.”
Alex hurriedly swallowed down his food and stood. “Megan...hi.”
Megan was tall and elegant, fashionably turned out in a chic dark coat and high heels.
“Funny running into you here,” she said. “I’m about to meet Tara Sullivan at a tapas place around the corner... Toro?”
“Ah, Toro’s excellent. Enjoy.”
“I’d ask you to join us, but it looks like you’ve already got dinner.” She cast a curious glance at Jess.
“Sorry... Megan, this is Jessica Romano. Jess, this is Megan Harte. She works at Drake Media.”
With the sophisticated Megan standing over her, Jess was suddenly acutely aware of the monstrous half-eaten chili dog in her hand, and the tray heaped with fries in her lap. God, she probably had onions stuck in her teeth. And Megan was off to eat tapas at some fancy Flatiron restaurant. The hot dogs, which had seemed like such a perfect idea half an hour, now seemed kind of sad. Alex was used to fancy tapas restaurants and she was making him eat hot dogs on a park bench.
“I’m afraid I’m loaded down with fries.” When she started to move her dinner so she could stand, Megan stopped her.
“Oh, no, please don’t get up. I didn’t want to interrupt. I just wanted to say hi.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Her smile was warm and genuine. “Same.” She turned back to Alex. “Will we see you next week for the end-of-the-year meeting? We’re bringing in the team from Mexico City, so we’ll have our hands full.”
“Of course. You know, we should think about moving Phil onto the in-house Mexico team. He’s got experience in that market.”
Megan’s eyes lit up. “Of course we should. He’d be the perfect person to manage that team. Brilliant idea, Alex. I can’t wait until you’re with us full time.”
Alex gave her a tight smile—one Jess had seen before, although she’d never connected the dots before now. That was his Drake Media smile, and it was nothing like his real one. Even his posture was different as he talked to Megan, like he’d had a steel rod implanted in his spine. She couldn’t even imagine this guy teasing her about her hot dog, even though he’d been doing it five minutes earlier.
“Okay, well, I’d better go. Nice running into you, Alex. And nice to meet you, Jessica.”
Megan waved back over her shoulder as she walked away through Gramercy Park. As pleasant and friendly as she’d been, Alex watched her like he was watching an invading horde.
He was quiet when he sat back down, a line etched between his eyebrows.
“She seems nice,” Jess ventured.
“Hmm?” Alex glanced up at her, distracted. “Oh. Yeah. Megan’s great. Smart as hell. She could run the place single-handedly.”
Jess silently watched Alex as he picked through his fries. Maybe she should run it, she thought, because it’s clear you don’t want to.
“Sorry about the hot dogs.”
“What?” Alex looked lost.
“Hot dogs in the park. It’s not your thing. You’d probably be happier at the tapas restaurant with Megan.”
“Hey.” Alex reached out for her hand. “I’m happy here with you. I don’t care what we’re eating.”
“Even hot dogs?”
He grinned, and the real Alex reappeared, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “Okay, I’ll admit, they’re not as revolting as I’d expected. But all the same, I’m picking where we go for dessert.”
“Better make it good,” she teased.
His eyes darkened as he stared at her. Every inch of her body tightened in response. “Oh, don’t worry,” he murmured. “I intend to.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“There?”
“I like this spot. Although this one’s good, too.”
Jess sucked in a breath, her skin tingling under his lips. “Or this one.” This time, she moaned, feeling her body soften under the weight of his. Alex’s voice was muffled against her skin, his perfect diction gone sloppy with sex and exhaustion.
His room was dark, and the quiet around them was broken only by the rustling of their naked bodies against the sheets. They’d had sex twice already, and despite the fatigue pulling at her, Jess could feel her body responding to him, yearning for more.
After hot dogs in the park, Alex had taken her to an intimate little French restaurant for dessert. As awesome as her Hail Mary Dog had been, champagne and chocolate soufflé by candlelight was very nice, too. Sharing it with Alex had been even better, once she’d managed to banish Drake Media Alex for the night.
She’d been slightly worried that things would be awkward between them when they had their clothes on. Could they really just lay aside five years of bickering? The answer was—not really. Although now when they argued, it felt more like healthy intellectual debate. And Alex was certainly fun to debate with. It was a relief to finally be able to admit to herself how much she admired his brilliant mind and his sharp wit.
As they’d sat tucked in a dark corner of the restaurant, Alex had played with her fingers as he’d talked about a recent long-form article on campaign finance reform, his eyes alight with passion as he’d fumed about dark money in politics. His journalistic integrity, she’d decided, might be the hottest thing about him.
But when they’d gotten back to his apartment, journalistic integrity lost out to uninhibited lust. Alex was all over her as soon as the alarm had armed. The first time had happened up against the wall in the hallway, with most of their clothes still on. It was a side of Alex she had never guessed existed—and she liked it very much.
Now she was lying angled across his bed, and he was kissing his way down from his favorite spot to discover more, farther south. While his lips traced a trail of fire over her rib cage, his fingers stroked up the inside of her thigh. When his mouth reached her belly button, she sensed his intention.
“Are you going to—”
His fingers slid into her wetness, stroking her, dragging a ragged little pant from her throat. “Only if you want me to.”
She’d only done it—or had it done to her, to be more accurate—once before, and she hadn’t actually enjoyed it all that much. Maybe she was too self-conscious. The sensation had been intense, to be sure, but she hadn’t been able to let go and let in the pleasure she knew was supposed to be a part of it.
“Um... I guess? If you want to?” It seemed so...intimate. So insanely personal.
Alex chuckled, the rumble sending tremors through her lower abdomen. “Oh, I want to. I really, really want to.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I do. You make the most amazing sounds when you come.”
“Don’t tell me that. I don’t need to know that. Oh, my God, what if your father heard me?”
“He’s still in Brazil and can we please not talk about him right now?”
She wrestled herself up to her elbows to look down at him. “Wait...he’s in Brazil?”
Alex looked up from his spot between her thighs. “And?”
“But tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”
He chuckled, reaching up to put a hand on her shoulder to push her onto her back again. “No more talking, Jess.”
“But—”
Then he put h
is mouth on her and she couldn’t have formed coherent speech if her life depended on it. There was definitely more to this than she’d been led to believe. It. Was. Amazing. And she was pretty sure she made all kinds of noises, but being embarrassed was the furthest thing from her mind in the moment. He looked insufferably smug many minutes later when he moved up her body, leaning his weight on one elbow as he grinned down at her.
“Okay, that was really good.”
“I told you—”
“Shut up.”
His expression sobered. “Has no one ever...?”
“Um, once? It was bad.”
“Well, I’m sorry for that.”
“I’m wiping it from my memory as we speak. This is the first one I want to remember.”
He smiled gently, leaning down to kiss her. “It’s a very good first. I’m grateful to be a part of it.”
How could she tell him how many things he was first at without scaring him off? The first guy to ever make her weak in the knees with a kiss, the first to get her turned on by politely pulling out her chair, the first to engage her mind at the same time he was engaging her body, the first...well, the first she’d ever loved. Because she was pretty sure she was falling in love with Alex, and not just for his excellent oral skills.
She cupped his jaw with her palm and turned his face back to hers. “Forget the firsts, because you’re the best. At pretty much everything. And don’t get smug and make me regret telling you that.”
His smile as he leaned down to kiss her wasn’t at all smug.
“Now can we talk about your dad?”
His expression was comically horrified. “Now? In this context?”
“No, in the Christmas context. What are you doing for Christmas?”
He craned his head back to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Are you going to Brazil? Or to your mother’s house?”
“Um, neither?”
“So you’re going to be by yourself?”
Another careless shrug. “Sure. It’s no big deal. I’ve spent plenty of holidays alone.”
“But...” Jess propped herself up again. “It’s Christmas!”
The One I Love to Hate Page 22
