The Marriage Trap mtab-2

by Jennifer Probst

  Maggie remained silent and left the kitchen. Left the woman to her memories. And wondered why she suddenly wanted to cry.

  * * *

  “Absolutely not!”

  Michael smothered a groan and faced his two angry sisters from across the conference room. Irritation prickled his nerve endings but he reached for the usual control and authority he used when dealing with family drama. The two advertising executives glanced back and forth between them, as if trying to decide whom to side with.

  With a smooth smile, he focused his attention on the ad team. “How fast can you get us a new campaign?”

  The men shared a look. Their eyes glittered with the mad lust for money. “Give us a week. It will blow you away and make waves.”

  “Very good. I will discuss this further with my sisters and call you back in.”

  “Si. Grazie, Signore Conte.”

  The door shut and Michael faced the twin firing squad. “Always remember to keep conflict within the family, Julietta.”

  Bitterness tinged Julietta’s voice. “You didn’t even hear me out. Again. Michael, I spent months helping with this campaign, and I think you’re going in the wrong direction.”

  He waved his hand at the photos on the cherrywood conference table. “I’ve seen the reports, and consumers want edge. A homey, plain-style bakery ad is not going to cut it in New York, and we need to freshen up things at home. I want to launch a whole new look. Hire a sexy model, maybe one eating a pastry, and come up with a catchy line playing off the whole comparison of sex and food.”

  Julietta gasped. “Excuse me? Are you nuts? This is Mama’s business and I refuse to see you exploit it for money!” She threw the thick portfolio onto the table with a crash. “I’m in charge here, and I like our new ads. Profit is steady, and there’s no reason to throw something away that’s working.”

  “I disagree.” Michael stared at his sister, his voice stone-cold. “You may be the CEO, Julietta, but I still own the bulk of this company. I believe we need to take a risk with the new opening in New York. I’ll need new print ads, a television spot, and billboards, and we will go in this new direction.”

  The weight of responsibility deadened his shoulders, but he straightened and took it like he always had. Dios, he wished he didn’t always have to make the hard decisions. “I know you are angry with my choice, but I feel it is best for the family. For La Dolce Famiglia.”

  There was a total of twenty bakeries spread throughout the Milan and Bergamo area, all a tightly run operation boasting fresh and creative pastries for both the casual pedestrian and four-star party catering. The headquarters stood proudly in the middle of Milan and took up the whole upper floor, and they’d finally added their own factory so they could consistently ship fresh ingredients and have total quality control. Running a massive empire required making hard decisions, even if he needed to overstep Julietta’s boundaries. Though his sister impressed him with her business decisions, if the new campaign failed it would be his fault. He opened his mouth to explain, but his sister interrupted.

  “I cannot believe you would disrespect me like this.” Julietta clenched her fists, her normally reserved features set with fury. Her voice shook. Dressed in an impeccable navy suit with matching pumps, her hair twisted in a neat chignon, she came across as the perfect businesswoman. Unfortunately, tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m not doing this anymore. Hire someone you trust, because obviously you don’t trust me.”

  Michael jerked back in surprise at her sudden emotion. He softened his voice and took a step closer. “Ah, cara, I didn’t mean—”

  “No!” She jumped up from the table. “I’m sick of the way you treat me. I’m good enough to run La Dolce Famiglia when you’re not here, but as soon as you step back onto my turf, you disrespect everything I’ve worked so hard to build: respect, mutual admiration, work ethic.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. I’m only doing what’s best for the company.”

  Julietta nodded. “I see. Well, then I don’t think you need me anymore. I’m resigning as CEO. Effective immediately. Go find someone else to boss around.”

  Ah, merda.

  Venezia jumped in front of Michael and wagged her finger madly through the air. “Why do you always have to order everyone around?” she demanded. “You’re our brother, not Papa.”

  His jaw clenched and unclenched. “No, perhaps if I was Papa, I wouldn’t have let you flounce off to dress a bunch of Barbie dolls and call it a career. Perhaps if I was Papa, I would’ve made you take your rightful place in this company and not put all the weight on Julietta.”

  Venezia practically snarled like Dante and teetered on her three-inch red heels. “I knew it! I always knew you never respected my career. Fashion is a huge industry, Michael, and I’ve made a name for myself in a competitive business. But no, just because I chose to do what I loved, that’s not good enough for you. You don’t respect any of us.”

  “Zitto! Enough of your childish tantrums, both of you. I do what is best for this family, always.”

  Venezia sneered and grabbed her sister’s hand. “Who do you think you are? You order us around like children, refuse to respect the decisions and choices we make, and pretend you actually care. We’re making a life for ourselves here and have been doing fine without you.”

  Pain shot through his chest and he struggled for breath. “How could you say this to me? After everything I’ve done?”

  Venezia tossed her hair and led Julietta toward the door. “We don’t need you anymore, Michael. Maybe it’s time you return to America, where you belong now.”

  They shut the door behind them.

  Michael stood in the shattering silence as the pieces of his life exploded around him.

  His head pounded as he paced the empty conference room, searching for answers. The careful control he’d built to protect his family slipped under the weight of raw emotions. Julietta had always been the rational one, yet the hurt in her eyes when he’d overruled her cut him to the bone. Had he been mistaken? Should he have stepped out of the way, even when he knew the campaign wasn’t the best, and let her fail?

  The door opened.

  Maggie peeked her head in. “Okay, I’m bored and I want to go home. I visited the cafeteria twice, hung out with Julietta’s secretary, and was sufficiently impressed with your organization. I’ve done my wifely duty so I’m heading out.”

  He forced a nod, but she blinked and nudged the door wider. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing.” He waved her out. “I shall meet you at home.”

  The blasted woman ignored him and stepped into the room. “Did you have a fight with your sister?”

  He should kick her out and keep business in the family. Yet, the words rushed out of his mouth. “Make that sisters. I disagreed with Julietta’s advertising campaign and they—what do you Americans term it?—blew up.”

  “Ah, I see.” She looked uneasy as she shot a look at the exit. He waited for her to go but she shifted from foot to foot, her hands cradling her camera, which Michael now thought of as another appendage. “Is that the ad campaign?” she asked. She walked over to the table, and her legs flashed in her short skirt and high heels. Memories of those limbs wrapped snug around his hips and open to every thrust shuddered through him.

  “Yes. It’s outdated. I told them we need a sexy commercial equating food and sex. Americans like shock. It sells.”

  “Hm.” She flipped through the photo ad, then closed the folder. “Okay, I’ll meet you at home.”

  Damn her. He almost choked on the words when he realized how much he respected her opinion. “What do you think?”

  “Of the campaign?”

  “Yes. Am I right?”

  She turned on her heel and stared at him. Her bangs slid over one eye. The sexy peek only made him fight harder to concentrate on business and not the low moans she made last night. “I agree.”

  The breath rushed out of his lips. He straightened, glad he made the right
decision. “I thought so.”

  “But I hate your idea, too.”

  He frowned. “Scusi?”

  She threw one hand up in the air as if dismissing him and wrinkled her nose. “Some shock sells but not for a family bakery. Your mama would hate it.”

  Coldness rushed through him. “I see. Well, thanks for your opinion, but you really have nothing to do with this. I’ll meet you at home.”

  Annoyance flitted across her face. She threw her purse on the table and took out her camera. In typical fashion, his tigrotta marched over to him, stood on tiptoe, and got in his face. “Is that what you do to your sisters when you don’t agree with their opinion? No wonder they walked out. Oh, trust me, I can never forget my place. I don’t want to be involved in this shit, but you keep messing up. For God’s sake, Count, wake up. You treat your sisters with a patronizing air they can’t stand. Julietta is perfectly capable of running the business without you, yet instead of respecting her place, you challenge all of her decisions.”

  “Enough.” His brows lowered in a frown. “You have no clue how my sisters feel.”

  She laughed without humor. “Are you kidding? It’s crystal clear. They adore you and believe you practically walk on water. They just want some kudos from their big brother. A little respect for what they’ve accomplished. Do you know Venezia believes you think she’s a joke? She may dress celebrities and gain respect in her field, but it means nothing because you don’t acknowledge her success. And Carina? She loves to paint, but you term it a cute little hobby, pat her on the head, and force her to attend business school. She’s got tons of talent and she aches to pursue it, but wants your approval. You’re not seeing her, and the woman she’s becoming. And Julietta keeps fighting the idea she’s an imposter and the business will never truly belong to her. You’ve made her doubt her instincts.”

  A muscle ticked in his face. “I respect them and love them more than you know. Dios, they are my life! I sacrificed everything so they can be happy.”

  Suddenly, her face softened. “I know,” she whispered. “You’ve done everything a father would have done. You supported them with money, discipline, and good advice. You kept them safe. You made sure they did the right thing and wanted for nothing. But you forgot the most important part. They don’t want a substitute father. They want an older brother who can joke with them, support them, and let them shine. On their own. They don’t need you to take care of them anymore, Michael.” She touched his cheek and tenderness slipped through the cracks and right into his heart. “They just want you to tell them you love them. Exactly the way they are.”

  Her words rocked through him and tore down his comfortable blinders.

  She held up her camera. “This is what I see for the image of La Dolce Famiglia,” she said. The screen showed the shot of his mother, bowl clasped in her embrace, a dreamy expression on her face in her homey kitchen. “It’s not about sex and food. It’s about this. Her dreams for her family, her determination to be the best, and the quality she strives for every day. That’s what your motto and advertising campaign should be.”

  He stared silently at the screen. When he looked up, an array of emotions flickered across her features.

  “You’re so lucky to have them. Make a mistake and they’ll forgive you. That’s what family is about.” She trailed off as if thinking about another event. “I don’t belong here, Michael. With you. With them. I can’t do this anymore.”

  She turned and fled, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Everything he believed in and worked hard to maintain rose to mock him. His past swam before his eyes, and he tamped down the excruciating pain of failure. His mother’s face stared up at him from the camera. She deserved more than this. She deserved more from him.

  He pulled out the leather chair and sat down. Slowly, he clicked past all the photos Maggie had taken since she arrived. They were so much more than pretty landscapes. In each shot, she’d reached something elusive, whether it be a color or shape that struck the onlooker. He watched as his four nephews came into focus, a candid glimpse of grinning, messy, mischievous boys as they mashed clay between their fingers. Slowly, he lay down the camera and faced the truth.

  He was falling in love with her.

  At the same time, she scared the crap out of him. Maggie wasn’t the woman he’d ever imagined spending his life with. She twisted everything inside of him until he vibrated at a high pitch, and she made the long line of other women he’d taken to bed fade away into nothingness. She was prickly, hardheaded, honest to a fault, and hid a soft center that melted his heart.

  The worst of the whole encounter was his realization that she was right.

  He hadn’t done his job. Images of his father dying before his eyes tortured him. The guilt of leaving him to pursue his own selfish dreams while his father worked long hours and tried to build a company his children never even believed in.

  Emptiness ripped at his gut. But Maggie spoke the truth. Throughout his climb to push the company to the top, he’d refused to see his sisters as equals. In his mind, they reflected the young image of grief-stricken youths in desperate need of protection and stability. Even with his mother’s strength, Michael knew it was up to him to provide and assume a leadership role. So he did. He disciplined, advised, and led.

  But he never told them good job. He never told them he loved them. He never listened.

  He had done each of them a terrible injustice. He refused to allow Julietta any real rewards for stepping in as CEO. She completed all the menial tasks on a day-to-day basis, yet never retained any glory. He kept all the good stuff for himself like a selfish child and never gave his full support.

  With Carina, he was so used to her being the baby of the family, he never thought of asking her what she wanted. He ordered, demanded, and expected. Sure, he knew she liked art, but not until Maggie pointed out her talent did he realize she may have a dream of her own, or even need encouragement to pursue something not business oriented.

  But the worst, by far, was Venezia. Shame filled him as the admission rose up inside and choked the air from his lungs. Venezia followed her dream to be a stylist, yet he constantly berated her for not taking responsibility for the family business, and he belittled her choice. Now, he realized why. He was jealous—jealous she was able to go after her dream, yet he’d lost his own. Somehow, he needed to let the anger go. He’d always prided himself on making his own decisions, and quitting racing was his choice. Venezia should not have to pay the price for following her dream, or for the loss of his.

  And Maggie? She was about to flee. He had no idea how he was going to convince her, or tear down her careful control enough to get under her skin, but damned if he wasn’t going to give it his best shot. He would not let her get on that plane until he convinced her to surrender her soul. Then, and only then, could he know if it would work for them.

  The shattered pieces of his life lay broken around him. Time to make a decision. First, make it right with his sisters. Second, take a leap of faith. Maggie had the heart and soul of a wounded warrior, and it was time he fought for her.

  He needed to find his fake wife and somehow convince her to stay.

  Chapter Ten

  Maggie lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her decision was final.

  She was getting the hell out of Dodge.

  Ever since she stepped foot in the Conte household, she’d lost her balance. She had gotten sucked into family dramas and in a weird way, she’d started to care. That was a no-no. She needed to be able to distance herself from Michael and get used to the knowledge that he wouldn’t be around any longer. He would not be hanging around Alexa. She didn’t care how he tried to get out of that bargain, she’d make sure he stuck to his word. Anyway, the last thing she needed was to moon over some guy who wanted different things than she.

  Didn’t he?

  Her thoughts whirled and she rolled to her side and groaned. Why was she beginning to doubt herself? Her initial decision to sleep w
ith him and wring him out of her system backfired. One night and she already cared way too much. What if she got attached? What if she got some ridiculous ideas about love and permanence? Sure, he’d give her multiple orgasms and physically she’d be satisfied. But what about her heart? Could her heart handle such a blow?

  Nope. Call her a coward, but when Michael returned, she’d be getting on the next plane back home. She’d say her mother got sick. Or come up with a death in the family—some long-lost uncle. Anything to get her far, far away.

  A knock sounded on the door. She sat up in immediate dread. “Who is it?”

  “Carina. Can I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  The younger girl bounced in and sat next to her on the bed. Maggie smiled at the happy look on her face. For a little while, she had bucked her moodiness and seemed lighthearted. Her makeup was applied with a more subtle hand, and her clothes showed off a bit of her figure, unlike the baggy jeans and T-shirts the girl usually sported. At least Maggie had helped Carina in some way. One item she managed not to screw up.

  “How was your evening out?” Maggie asked. “And before you answer, it better be good. I dealt with your cousins last night and I’m still recovering.”

  Carina laughed and crossed her legs. Her eyes lit with excitement. “Maggie, it was so awesome. I loooooved Sierra; she was supercool. And gorgeous. And the guys were really nice and polite. It was a big group so I never felt uncomfortable and guess what? They said I’d make a great model!”

  Maggie smiled. “You would, but I don’t know if that’s something you’d want to pursue, Carina. Personally, I think you’d do better off with a college education and your art. You’re talented.”

  A blush tinted her cheeks. “Thanks. Yeah, Michael and Mama would probably freak. But it was cool they actually thought I’d be good enough to model. They invited me to their next shoot, and now I have their cell numbers and we’re texting back and forth.”

  “I’m glad you made some new friends.”