Destiny turned the screen back on and held up the tablet. “Guys like this? Or this guy you want in your head?”
“Both.”
“Yeah. Okay. If they exist at all…” Destiny sighed like she was about to read a fairy tale story to one of her first graders.
Rebecca pictured his impeccable manners as he kissed her hand, and never once would he call her by any other name.
Melissa tapped her cheek in thought. “Hmm. At some fancy art show, or a gala.”
Her dream burst. Rebecca picked up her fork, ready to dig into her meal and forget this conversation. “Don't you have to buy tickets for those? I don’t have that kind of cash to go dropping hundreds of dollars to go to parties. I’d go broke in a week.”
The three friends ate in contemplative silence. Rebecca's fantasies would now have a more defined look, and a name.
Melissa pushed her plate away. “Pretend you’re buying a yacht. Rich boys don’t rent their boats or have a monthly plan. They own their yacht.”
No one would take her as the yacht-buying type. Ever. Between her brightly dyed hair and oil-stained clothes, she couldn't pass as a millionaire. But she indulged the idea, just for fun. “So you’re saying I go to the dealer and pretend to be in the market for a yacht?”
Melissa's brow lifted and Rebecca felt her judgement as she assessed the blue sparkly sleeveless shirt and knee-length denim skirt that stretched across her muscular thighs. Her lips thinned. “Say it’s for your boss so they take you seriously.”
They all laughed. She ate her last bite of chicken and imagined somehow meeting Bart when he was there to buy a yacht. She squeezed her friend’s arm. “It wouldn't really work.”
"Not with that attitude," Destiny said. "I dare you to just walk the marina."
"What?" She thought about that--it didn't seem so hard. "Just walk?
Melissa’s brown eyes widened. “You’re going to do it?”
“What are the terms of the dare?”
“If you don’t go, you’re buying the beer for the next month.”
“And if I do it?”
Melissa gestured between her and Destiny. “We'll buy.”
“I’ll be ordering an extra one then. Since you’re paying.”
Destiny showed her the tablet again, this time with her dream guy standing on a ship. "If you're feeling brave, pretend to be in the market for an hour and see who comes along."
Maybe Mr. Picture Perfect with that sexy smile.
Go to a yacht dealer and pretend she was interested--she could do that, and then she’d have something to report next Friday night, and a month of free Friday night beer. “Yes. Why not? I need to change my life. I’m not happy with how things are right now.”
Destiny put her tablet back in her huge pocketbook that she always carried and teased, “You going to throw us out when you marry someone rich and famous?”
Yeah, right. She needed her friends, as they kept her sane. Rebecca fluffed her ponytail and pretended she was fancy when she said, “The two of you are going to have to step it up if you intend to visit me in my mansion, and drink champagne instead of beer.”
“That’s awful,” Melissa laughed.
Destiny looked stricken. Rebecca stopped laughing and said, “I’m joking. We’re best friends and I need you both. I'm just afraid that I will have less time to hang out with you two in the next few months.”
“Because of school?” Melissa asked, her eyes narrowed. “Personally, I’m looking forward to champagne dinners in your villa in Rome, with your dream guy--he will only want you to have sons and not a daughter.”
“He’ll never be like that, Melissa. Besides, even if I met this man, I wouldn’t be good enough.”
Melissa scoffed and shook her head. “You are more than good enough. How many weekends have you given up to fix a junker of a car for a family looking to get back on their feet?”
She liked giving back to her community, but he'd had a list of charities. “That doesn’t make me ready for a guy like this.” Rebecca pressed her knees together as she sat forward. “I’m nervous about the classes. I didn’t study that hard in high school, and I will need to…now that I’m paying out that much tuition.”
Destiny smiled bright as she sipped her beer. “You’ll be fine as long as you keep it real and stay in touch with us, okay?”
Encouraging as always. “Some of the classes are online, which I've never done before. I told Dad I need to be part-time at the garage.”
Melissa finished her bottle of beer, and then folded her hands on the table. “But you like pulling stuff apart and putting it back again. What kind of degree are you going for?”
“I need to change and I’m willing to give tinkering with my engines up. I’m thinking of an engineering degree. The hybrid battery on these newer models is worse for the environment than just using gas for the life of your average car, not that anyone talks about that.” Sure, she enjoyed fixing things, but that didn’t satisfy her when she went to bed at night. Maybe if she could create an environmentally friendly battery she’d feel like she was making a difference.
“Then I’ll help you," Melissa said. "I just didn’t want you giving up what you loved to take pottery classes because some guy treated you bad.”
“I was looking at classes before Javier was ever in my life.”
This wasn’t about a guy. Her goals needed attention. She wanted a satisfying career. She wanted to find love. That didn’t make her strange. One day she'd like to get married, have children and not stress about money, or work so hard that she didn't enjoy her family. She’d do whatever she could to make her dreams come true.
Her time was now.
Chapter 2
Bart Morgan finished his shower and left the bathroom, completely naked as he walked around the two-floor hotel suite that overlooked a tropical paradise.
Last night’s sex had helped him relax after the long flight to Miami.
His suite was spacious enough to not feel crowded. Parrots sang outside his window, and palm trees swayed with a gentle breeze. This hot and humid locale that his father’s family all called home seemed beautiful but so different from his small villa in Rome where he spent most of his days.
He strode across the bright room as last night’s beauty fixed her diamond earrings in her ears, clearly ready to go in her blue skirt suit that captured attention, even his. He winked at her as he headed toward his closet.
She glanced at his backside that he hadn’t bothered to cover with a towel, but her arms were crossed instead of open or interested and her hair was flawlessly curled like she’d spent hours on it. Sharp red covered her lips. “This was fun, but I’m running late. Hurry.”
Right. He’d sworn he wouldn’t keep her and that he’d get her to wherever she wanted. He pulled his tailored House of Morgan pants on, courtesy of his brother's label. “We’ll get you there on time, Nadia. Hold on.”
She patted his arm, stared at him as if this was all business and no longer passionate, then pointed to the door. “Look, Bart, I told you this was important to my career.”
Bart was a man of his word. He grabbed a white button-down shirt from the closet. “We’re on our way.”
She shook her head and held up her phone, showing him a car service app. “No, I’m on my way. We’re done.”
His heart beat a little faster. He always kept his word--he prided himself on it. He buttoned his shirt and followed her to the door. “What?”
She didn’t even look behind her as she called over her shoulder, “Lose my number. No one makes me late.”
“Nadia!” He'd have driven her as he’d promised. She’d been sleeping when he'd gone into the shower and he hadn’t been more than ten minutes.
The hotel door slammed, and he stopped.
Bart Morgan certainly didn’t chase after women--they were easy to find even when he wasn't looking. He’d met Nadia in Italy and they'd hit it off, so when he found out that she was also going to Miami, he'd offered he
r a flight on his private plane so that she didn't have to fly commercial.
It seemed their one-week fling was over. With a shrug, Bart ordered himself a pot of coffee, and checked his work emails. He had a few hours before he had to be at an afternoon function for his family.
The sun was higher in the sky when he looked up from managing his accounts. He stretched, perused some of his newest investments and then headed to the lobby--he'd order breakfast and the family limo. It would be good to see Gio in action and get to know the American side of the family he’d never met as a boy. From what he recalled of Gio’s wedding, the American siblings had struck him as interesting and dramatic.
As he strode across the lobby of the Biltmore hotel, Giorgio, perfectly fashionable, and Lorenzo, with his strong jawline, walked toward him, like they were on a joint mission. They wore matching expressions of shock and Gio said, “You’re here early--and alone.”
Lorenzo winked like he was joking while he quickly added, “We thought we’d have to pull you away from some random woman you’d just met.”
“I’m alone, now,” Bart answered without really remembering Nadia, other than that her telling him to lose her number had been unusual.
His brothers knew him well. He motioned for them to join him at the brunch buffet. The guests at the Biltmore were all well-dressed and the breakfast mimicked a fancy British tea. They were shown to a table outside, as they preferred. “Miami women are strange.”
“How?” Lorenzo asked.
Their now-married brother Gio seemed like he’d argue the point, his shoulders tense, but he kept quiet.
Nadia's leaving in a pout this morning didn’t matter. He’d find another woman soon enough, in between his business meetings. He always did. He ordered a full breakfast and more coffee from the waiter, as did his brothers. Once the waiter left, Bart said, “The lady I met in Italy, and flew here on our plane? We had a wonderful time and then she just up and left. It's been a while since a woman has stormed out on me.”
The waiter brought their coffees. Gio asked, “Did you do something?”
Now that Gio was married, it seemed his brother wanted to defend all women. He shrugged. “I was getting dressed to bring her to her work party, as I promised, but I was too slow for her.”
Lorenzo laughed. "I can just see the door slamming in your face."
That wasn't quite the way it had happened, but Bart kept his mouth shut. To explain would just open himself up to more teasing.
The waiter delivered their breakfasts and left after ensuring the brothers had everything they needed. Gio said, “Speaking of work parties, I’m happy both of you can come to the American debut later. It’s the first time everyone has been together, and I'm afraid we've given a bad impression regarding the Italian part of the family.”
Bart understood that this was important to Gio--he'd thought they were all getting along. He’d flown to Miami to show his support and now his skin prickled, as if he needed to protect Gio, like he’d done when their father had called Gio useless. “How?”
Gio sat back and said, “Anthony…”
Bart also leaned back, meeting Lorenzo’s gaze. They’d all sworn to their mother that somehow they’d keep Anthony from turning into their father. But they couldn’t let Anthony ruin Gio’s opportunities, either. Lorenzo said, “None of us are Anthony. We’re here to be on your team, Gio. We all swore to Mother, before she died, that we'd remain a family. And we will.”
“Good.” Gio nodded. "Thank you."
Bart refused to let anyone hurt his family. The Italian branch was very tight--nobody else needed to know about their past.
“Working with the American women and combining our styles with my menswear has been interesting, but tonight’s debut with Victoria can make or break our venture,” Gio said.
Which was why he'd come all this way. While he’d met the rest of the Miami and French family on his father’s side, he’d never been interested in getting to know them. Until his brother joined ranks with Victoria, combining their House of Morgan labels. Gio's wife designed shoes for them. So, he’d shake hands and be polite.
He changed the topic to keep things light. “I’ll be there to help you, but these American women are confusing. One minute it’s "let’s go" and the next is "go away." I’ll happily stick to my offices in Rome and the local Italian girls." He'd considered opening an investment office to pursue clean energy in Miami due to the ease of international banking but it wasn't necessary.
Lorenzo added salt and pepper to his eggs. “Miami is starting to grow on me, with its sunshine and technology. From what I’ve seen of the local women, they are beautiful.”
Bart laughed. “Beauty is always welcome in my life, but for now, let’s hope the clean fuel inventors are more stable than the last American woman.”
Gio sipped his coffee. “Well, at least we’re building bridges with Father’s family now.”
Lorenzo picked up his cup as well though he gave a sarcastic laugh as he said, “You mean we’re finding other post-traumatic survivors and forming our own self-help group.”
Bart almost choked on his coffee. Lorenzo hadn’t joked in years--maybe Miami was good for him.
Gio said, “Bart.”
That sounded like a scold. He gathered himself and countered, “Are you saying you loved our father’s opinions and decrees? They only stopped after Aurelia died.”
"No." Gio folded his hands on the table and reached for his coffee, “Do you think the Americans might be right and she’s alive? Father apparently had a habit of taking the daughters away from their mothers.”
“That would be nice to have Aurelia back,” Lorenzo said, blinking quickly. "Our family was never the same with her gone."
Bart finished his dark roast. If Aurelia were to come back from the dead, he'd gladly move to Miami, or wherever she was--but he didn’t put stock in gossip or dreams. He preferred evidence and science. “Miami has a large selection of yachts for sale so I’m going to check them out tomorrow. If I find the right inventors, I will get them set up and then as a reward, I plan on sailing around the world where no one can reach me."
Gio shook his head. “I still think you’ll be bored in a week. You haven’t been without female companionship for longer than a day.”
“I’ll find a local beauty at each port.”
Lorenzo shrugged and said, “Just as I’m sure you’ll find one to bring to the fashion show tonight.”
His brothers didn't enjoy sailing as he did but he gained peace on the water. Lorenzo also didn’t seem to mind staying at Gio’s house with Kiwi, though Bart didn’t need that much family around, which was why he was here at the hotel. If he found one yacht that would work with his specialty fuel so he could test it, he’d work on board as they transported it back to Italy.
Gio left after breakfast to finish setting up, and hours later, Bart and Lorenzo arrived at the fashion show.
As Bart stepped out of the limo, and onto a red carpet, people snapped pictures--he knew not to blink and followed Lorenzo down the runner. The showing was in some warehouse that had been transformed into a designer venue. Glitz and glamour showed in the winking diamond lighting and silk fabric walls.
On previous occasions when he’d gone to Gio’s Milan fashion shows, wearing one of his many House of Morgan designs, there were decidedly less cameras--but this was America. From his glimpses into the crowd, Miami had beautiful women galore.
Maybe tonight he’d find a different beauty.
Lorenzo had gone to the right, but Bart decided to hang out at the bar and get a drink before finding his family. A familiar dark-haired beauty, with a willowy silhouette, stood from her barstool to stare at him.
His skin pulsed. She’d said to lose her number and he would respect that request, no problem. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, as the saying went. He kept his palms up as he walked over to the bar. “Nadia. I’m just getting a drink.”
She nodded like this was a professional
meeting, despite their previous week of hot sex. “I was nervous about getting everything at my job in order so I could be here, earlier. I’m sorry for being rude.”
The bartender took his drink order. Bart said, “Apology accepted. You’re not nervous now?” What had changed? What job was she talking about?
“No, not at all. I made it here, as intended.” She paused as the bartender gave him his drink. Once the bartender moved on, she placed her hand on his and said, “I just don’t want you thinking there was some future for us. I’ll be returning to New York soon, and your headquarters are in Rome.”
He'd assumed she was from Miami but New York made more sense. The city had a reputation for being fast-paced, and he could see Nadia thriving there. She sipped her wine. He lifted his own glass and said, “Nadia, don’t worry. You didn’t break my heart.”
She shook her head. “Do you have a heart that was there for me to break?”
“No. My heart is fully shielded.” He raised his palm, swearing it to be the truth.
Nadia stared across the room. He followed her line of sight and saw Gio, Gio's wife, Kiwi, his half-sister Victoria, and his new sister-in-law, Caro, as they watched him with Nadia.
Nadia stepped back and said, “Good, so is mine. And what happened has nothing to do with what my report on your brother and sister’s designs.”
Report? His head buzzed. She was here for business. She must be important to the others, but until now, he hadn’t put that together. He turned toward Nadia--for the last time--and kissed her hand to say goodbye. “I respect that.”
She turned left, to speak with someone she knew, and he sauntered over to his family. He wished he’d already bought himself a yacht so that he could go there once this was over. The swells of the ocean always lulled him to sleep.
Secret Admirer (The House of Morgan Book 13) Page 2
