The Wild One

by Cardello, Ruth

  I was a mess.

  I sighed and raised my head. Okay, so there were some things I had no control over. But there were some I did. I didn’t have to continue to work at a job I didn’t like.

  I could quit.

  Right then and there.

  Start over. Build the life I wanted—within driving distance of my parents. There was no reason I couldn’t.

  I smacked the steering wheel as I gathered courage. “I’m doing it. I’m going to call my boss and tell him he needs to send someone else to check this site. I’m done.” Saying it out loud made it real—scary, but real.

  I was so lost in my thoughts that I screamed when someone knocked on my truck window.

  It was an older man in a dark-gray suit. Dark eyes. Dark hair. He reminded me of Mauricio, but I saw Mauricio everywhere I looked lately. I shook my head to clear it and lowered my window. “Can I help you?”

  His smile was easy and confident. It twisted through me, reminding me of another smile, one I missed so much I hurt. “I was about to ask you the same question. Security called and said you were down here. I was heading out, so I thought I’d come by and see if I could point you in the right direction first.” He held out his hand for me to shake through the window. “Basil Romano. You must be Wren Heath.”

  “That’s me.” His hand was as warm and reassuring as his smile. “Romano . . . as in . . .”

  He opened the truck door. “My name is on the company, but my sons made Romano Superstores what it is today. Me, I was happy with one store and a much simpler life. Now why don’t I show you the system we’d like you to inspect.”

  I grabbed my tablet and hopped out of the truck. He closed the door behind me with old-world chivalry. “Thank you,” I said.

  As we walked, he asked, “So, an engineer, that’s impressive—”

  “For a woman?” I finished for him in an unusually bold manner. Technically, I’d already quit this job, if only in my head, so I wasn’t concerned about saying what I normally would have held back. In my business, I often ran into men who were surprised I had an engineering degree.

  “For anyone,” he added smoothly. “My wife stayed home with the children, but I would have supported her if she’d chosen to work instead. My oldest son married a brilliant accountant. My boys have excellent taste in women.”

  His strange compliment made me a little uncomfortable. I cleared my throat. “So the system is in the main building?” I was already there. I might as well finish this last job before quitting.

  “Yes.” He checked his watch. “And you’re here just in time.”

  “We do try to make the window of time we schedule.”

  The security guard gave Mr. Romano a thumbs-up when he saw him. It was strange enough that I almost didn’t enter the door he held open for us. Was I being paranoid, or was something going on?

  Another man met us in the foyer. He was twenty or so years younger, just as tall, with dark hair and gray eyes. “Dad, do you really think this is a good idea?”

  Mr. Romano scoffed and said to me, “This is my son Sebastian. He doesn’t understand how important it is to inspect sprinkler systems on a regular basis. Not everything takes care of itself.”

  Sebastian? His name cut through me. I remembered Mauricio talking about his brother with the same name. I looked back and forth between the two men.

  That would be a crazy coincidence.

  Unless Mauricio had orchestrated it.

  No. If he wanted to see me again, wouldn’t he have answered my text?

  I held out my hand to the younger Romano. “Wren Heath.”

  He shook my hand firmly, then released it. “You look like a normal enough person.”

  I smiled weakly. “Thanks?” I waved my tablet. “Maybe it’s best if I just get to the job at hand.”

  “He’s here, sir,” the security guard announced.

  I turned to see who he was and swayed on my feet when Mauricio and his near double walked into the foyer. My mouth went dry. The room spun. When our eyes met, it took everything in me not to run and throw myself into his arms.

  The only thing that stopped me was the anger in his eyes. “What are you doing here, Wren?”

  “I—I—”

  “No,” Mauricio growled. “You don’t get to ghost me the way you did, then waltz in here like nothing happened.”

  “I sent you a text,” I defended as I gathered my composure. There was so much I wanted to say, but I didn’t know where to start.

  He shook his head angrily. “What are you doing here, Wren? Did you discover I’m filthy rich and have a change of heart?”

  Each word slammed through me. In shock, I took a step back, then another. Who was this man? He wasn’t the Mauricio from Paris.

  “That’s enough, Mauricio,” his father snapped.

  Mauricio’s face tightened. “Dad, you don’t know what’s going on here.” He took me by the arm. “Wren, you shouldn’t have gotten involved with my family. If you want to talk, let’s step outside. I do have a question or two for you.”

  I yanked my arm free from his hold.

  For a moment, when I’d first seen him walk through the door, I’d thought he’d arranged to see me again. Sure, it was awkward for that meeting to happen in front of his father and brothers, but a tiny part of me had hoped that meant he wanted me to meet them.

  I didn’t understand why I was there, how the universe had folded in such an insane way to put me in that moment, but I knew I wanted out of it. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Don’t stalk my family.”

  Sebastian cut in. “Mauricio, there’s something you should know.”

  “Stalk your family?” My voice rose, and I threw my hands up in the air. “Is that what you think I’m doing? You know what? I’m not sorry I left the way I did. Apparently what happens in Paris stays in Paris, because what we had looks batshit crazy anywhere else. Stay away from me.”

  “That will be easier to do if you don’t hang out where I work,” he snapped.

  “I’m not hanging . . .” I made an angry sound in my throat. “Whatever.” I turned back to Mr. Romano. “My boss will schedule someone else to come out. Goodbye.”

  Head held high, I spun on my heel and walked out of the building. My pace morphed to a near run as I made my way back to my truck. I didn’t slow until after I’d peeled out of the parking lot and was speeding down the highway . . . toward anywhere but there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MAURICIO

  I’d almost run after her.

  I hadn’t because . . . partly because I was still angry and partly because I hadn’t been ready to see her. I’d still been mentally preparing what to say to her when I texted her back.

  Then—bam—she’d been right there in front of me.

  “Well, you handled that like a bull in a china shop,” my father said dryly.

  I shook my head. “She—she—”

  “Had no idea you’d be here,” Sebastian interjected. “Dad tracked down her name through your friend in Paris. He thought seeing her again might help you get out of your slump.”

  My attention flew to my father. He shrugged. “I imagined it going much better.”

  “You think?” Christof added. “I thought she handled the accusation of being a gold digger with a surprising amount of grace. Some women might have belted him.”

  As the truth sank in, my heart started thudding wildly and my gut twisted painfully. No. I couldn’t be that big of a dick. “So she was here . . .”

  “Because Dad hired the company she works for to inspect the sprinkler system and requested her specifically.” Sebastian rubbed his eyebrows as if the idea had given him a headache.

  I turned toward the door she’d run through. “I thought—”

  “Come on, you weren’t thinking,” Christof said.

  “I wasn’t,” I said slowly. Holy shit. “I’ve spent the last few days asking myself if anything she said was true.” I ran a hand through my hair. I was st
ill trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. My father had contacted my friend in Paris? Gotten Wren’s last name that way? “Dad, you called Felix?”

  “That’s where I started. He told me his ex-girlfriend knew the woman you’d been seeing.”

  “And he gave you Cecile’s number?”

  “Oh no, he didn’t want me to contact her, but his mother had her number. I had a good talk with Cecile. She now understands how a broken appendage can affect a man’s ability to think straight. I don’t know what your excuse is, though.”

  Oh my God.

  “So Wren really had no idea she’d see me today.”

  My father looked to Sebastian. “He’s the pretty one, but has he always been this slow? In a minute I’m going to walk away, wait for one of you to slap some sense into him; then and only then will I come back and try this conversation again.”

  My father’s sarcasm was lost on me. I was deep into replaying everything I’d said to Wren and hating myself for handling seeing her again as badly as I had. “I really am an idiot.”

  Sebastian gave my back a supportive smack. “Perhaps not in all situations, but in this one, yes.”

  Christof made a pained face. “You really messed up this time.”

  I nodded; then I frowned. “A heads-up might have helped.”

  He shrugged and gave me a look that said, “Don’t pin your screwup on me.”

  “You’re right; this is on me. What the hell was I thinking?”

  We all stood in the foyer, not moving, not speaking. I felt like a complete ass—worse, an ass pimple. Not even someone with an ass fetish liked those.

  My father broke the silence. “Is anyone else wondering how long it’ll take Mauricio to wake up and go after her?”

  Christof shook his head in mock sadness. “At this rate I’ll probably marry before him, and I’m not even dating anyone.”

  “I shouldn’t have doubted her. I should have swung her up into my arms and told her I’d missed her.” That’s what I should have done.

  “But now you know you need to . . .” my father began, then let his words hang in the air.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I stepped away. “She might still be in the parking lot. If not—”

  “Try calling her,” Christof said with a laugh. “Hey, he needs all the help he can get.”

  I didn’t stick around to debate that claim. I couldn’t let Wren leave before I apologized.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  WREN

  The highway was a blur. Cars zipped around me, some dangerously close, but they didn’t matter. All I cared about was getting as far from what had just happened as I could.

  I called Cecile. It rang a few times, but she didn’t pick up. The only way any of this made sense was if she’d somehow been involved. Unless she’d told Felix my last name.

  How else would Basil Romano have found me? I remembered thinking it was odd that Romano Superstores had requested me specifically.

  Why had Mauricio’s father asked for me?

  Had Mauricio mentioned me?

  When I’d fantasized about meeting up with Mauricio again, I certainly hadn’t pictured how it had gone. Not only had he figuratively slammed a door in my face, he’d also accused me of wanting to be with him for his money. So, Cecile, this time I won.

  I didn’t laugh at my joke because . . . well, it wasn’t funny.

  What a fool I’d been.

  My phone rang. “Hey, you.” It was Cecile.

  “Hi,” I said with a voice thick with emotion. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course. What’s up?”

  Without stopping for a breath, I vomited up what had just happened with Mauricio. Everything from what I’d thought when I first saw him to what I’d said before I’d bolted for the door.

  “Oh no,” she said with real dismay. “That’s not how it was supposed to go.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Basil called me. It was an enlightening conversation. You’re never going to believe what was actually wrong with Felix—a penile fracture.”

  “Ouch.” I remembered joking about it and felt a little guilty. “Not from a car door, I hope.”

  She chuckled. “No. Nothing quite so dramatic. Funny thing is, once he told me, I wasn’t upset with him anymore. It was with some woman he didn’t care about. Stupid, but not unforgivable. We’ve had dinner together since then. Not me and Basil—Felix. Almost losing his manhood has been good for him. It’s given him time to think about what he wants his life to look like—businesswise and his personal life. We’re going to try things again . . . slowly this time . . . and without seeing other people.”

  “That’s . . . good, I guess? I don’t mean to make this about me, but why did you tell Mauricio’s father my name and where I worked?”

  “He said Mauricio was missing you. His plan to put the two of you in the same place again sounded really romantic. I’m sorry. I didn’t consider that it might go badly.” Sounding a little defensive, she added, “Plus you wouldn’t have been so surprised if you answered my calls. I did try to contact you.”

  I’d seen two missed calls from Cecile, and I’d meant to call her back. I’d told myself I would after the funeral. Then I’d needed a break before wanting to tell anyone what had happened. “Sorry, things kind of imploded here. I’ll tell you about it later. That was kind of sweet of Mauricio’s father to set up a meeting for us, but I guess he doesn’t know his son as well as he thinks he does, because Mauricio made how he feels about me crystal clear. You were right about him. He’s a player. In Paris Mauricio was who I wanted him to be. But that wasn’t real. I’m not going to freak out, though. I can be sad about what our time together wasn’t or be glad for the good time we did have.”

  “Sounds like a healthy way to handle it . . . also feels a little too fast to not be bullshit.”

  “What do you want me to say? That I’m hurt, embarrassed, angry?”

  “Yes. It’s true, isn’t it?”

  I let out a calming breath. “What’s the benefit to being angry about something I can’t change?”

  “No benefit, but it feels good.” When I didn’t say anything, she added, “You can’t bottle everything up. If you’re angry, be angry. Yell. Scream. Let it out. I called your mother when I didn’t hear back from you, and she told me what happened with your dad. You didn’t need this on top of that. Pull over and kick the shit out of a tree. Wait, no, don’t break your foot. Let me see if I can find one of those places where you pay to break their dishes.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got this.” Just listening to Cecile was making me feel a little better. I wasn’t surprised she’d called my mother since I’d recently suggested that as a viable solution. “Do I want to know how Felix fractured his penis?”

  “The usual way. The idiot was having sex in a closet at the office.”

  “Are you sure you want to give him another chance?”

  “I gave him a harsh reality check on his behavior, and he took it. Not only was what he did a huge legal no-no, but it’s also a bad way to gain the respect of the reigning board. If he doesn’t wise up, it won’t matter that his father started the company; he won’t even be able to get a job in the mail room. I thought he’d be upset by what I said, but he said he appreciated my honesty . . . said he valued my opinion. I like this humble version of him. We didn’t talk like this before. We worried more about keeping it light than keeping it real. Who knows, I might even be able to teach him to be better in bed.”

  I chuckled at that. “I’m sure you can.”

  “It’s all about knowing what you want and going after it, Wren. I didn’t realize how much I would miss Felix until we’d broken things off. He says he feels the same way. We’ll see.”

  “I’m happy for you. I think. I don’t know. I’m not sure of anything right now. I want to walk into my boss’s office today and quit. Does that sound crazy? I’ve got some money saved, but I feel like if I don’t do it today, I never will.�
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  “Do it, then. Break free. Then choose a new path and go after it.”

  My phone beeped with an incoming call. I glanced down at where the caller ID was displayed on my car’s console. Mauricio. Our parting words to each other echoed in my head. The guilt I’d felt had been replaced by anger, but that didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t want to carry the weight of his feelings on top of mine. Whatever he had to say, I was certain I didn’t want to hear it. I hit “Ignore.”

  Sorry, the caller you’re attempting to contact is breaking free.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DOMINIC

  After closing down his office computer, Dominic stood and stretched. The sun was still shining in the sky, but he was done for the day. There’d been a time when work was all he knew, and he’d resented anyone who left work the moment they could. A happy home life had changed his opinion of that. He had enormous responsibilities and holdings in more companies than most people had socks, but he’d learned to delegate as well. Now dinner with his wife and daughter mattered more than if an email had to wait a day to be answered.

  No one dared suggest he run his tech empire any other way. He’d fought his way to the top, and the perk of being there was he didn’t answer to anyone—except his wife.

  He smiled at that thought.

  Abby was not above reining him in now and then. He didn’t mind at all. Money and power didn’t impress her. Kindness, character, and honesty mattered most to her. He hated to imagine who he might have become had she not come into his life.

  He was packing up a briefcase to take home when his phone rang. “I’m out the door, Jeremy. What do you need?”

  “Do you remember saying you didn’t want to know if Alethea had found some of your family?”

  “Yes. I believe I was clear about that.”

  “And I respect your wishes. I gave your daughter the names you gave me, but she’s determined to find more about your side of the family. The more she hears the word no, the more determined she becomes. Does that sound like anyone you know?”