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Beauty and the beast: A Modern Day Fairytale Billionaire Mafia Romance

Page 11

by Georgia Le Carre


  I didn’t speak and for the first few seconds neither did she.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She cleared her throat. “Um, sorry for disturbing you, but I wanted to ask you about the greenhouse.”

  The greenhouse? I had considered at least fifty other reasons why she would have been asking to speak to me, and the greenhouse would not have come on the list if I had listed a thousand. “What about it?” I asked curiously.

  “Well… um, because I don’t have much to do here when you’re not around and I want to… I want to grow some flowers.”

  Her voice filled my head. I almost imagined all those hesitant words dropping from that delicious mouth. “And what’s the problem?”

  “The head gardener, er… he says, he can’t give me access to the greenhouse without your approval.”

  I pondered on the request. “The greenhouse has been under his jurisdiction from before I bought the house. He doesn’t need my approval at all.”

  She went silent.

  She was so far away and I wanted so desperately to hear her voice fill my ear. With any kind of conversation. Even if it was just to say, she had found a dress or a piece of jewelry she wanted me to buy for her, which was bizarre because it bored me stiff when women started talking about stuff like that. Because I craved it so very much I said, “If that is all…”

  “Wait, wait, I mean don’t go yet!”

  I waited.

  “I…” she began. “Is there a way you can at least speak to him on my behalf? I can help him around the place. Just sitting around and idling away the time is really not the best for my mental health.”

  I resisted the urge to smile. The idea she might want to spend her time gardening was novel. I would have thought she would want to go shopping at the best boutiques. “I’ve given you my response, Skye,” I said. “John does not need my approval. If he said he did, it means he doesn't want you in his space.”

  “Oh!” she mumbled and it was impossible to miss the disappointment in her tone.

  “I do have a suggestion for you.”

  Hope lifted to her voice. “Really? What is it?”

  “He’s just a man. Hang around the place. Smile lots. Bring him little treats and break down his resistance with charm.”

  “You really think that would work?”

  “It would work on me,” I said dryly.

  “Okay,” she almost sang with happiness. “I’ll start the charm offensive tomorrow.”

  I was aware now it was time to go, but I didn’t want to. The pleasure I felt at speaking to her made every nerve in my body come alive and tingle. “Good night,” I said and without hearing her reply, ended the call.

  Chapter 23

  Skye

  I stared down at my phone in surprise. Just when I thought we were getting along he goes and ends the conversation so abruptly. Why on earth did he have to do that? I tossed the phone aside and it bounced across the bed, but to my relief, settled just shy of the edge of the big bed.

  The last thing I needed right now was a broken phone. There were not too many helpful people in this house. I thought of the gardener once again and how my charm project should be.

  I had to admit Mr. Snob was totally right.

  Building a sort of relationship with the gardener was much better than barging into the greenhouse and claiming a share of his real estate. There were also several things he could teach me so it was indeed a good idea to win him over.

  With that thought I luxuriated in a long soak in the bath, then slipped into the silkiest nightie I had ever worn in my life and climbed into bed. Katie called as I was about to switch off the bedside lamp.

  “How’s it going,” she asked.

  “It’s okay. I’m going to try and win over the heart of a crusty old gardener tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “There’s this gardener here. He has bushy eyebrows and eyes that are rheumy with age. I think he must be at least eighty. I’m gonna try and get him to let me work with him in his greenhouse.”

  “Are you drunk, Skye?”

  “I’ve had a few glasses, but I’m not drunk. Honest, I’m not. Did you not know I’ve always wanted to garden? I love the feeling of soil running through my fingers, and watching the seeds start to sprout. The sad thing is I don’t think I have very green fingers because all my plants always die and I’m going to ask John, that’s the old gardener, why that keeps happening to my plants.”

  “How strange. I’ve known you for years and I never knew this about you.”

  “Ah, well. I’ve been busy earning a living,” I said.

  “Anyway, how’s it going with the Don?”

  I frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… there’s something there. Something I cannot explain. It’s like an invisible rope that connects us. And the sex… the sex is just out of this world.”

  “Jesus, Skye. You’re not falling for this guy, are you?” Her voice was incredulous.

  “No, of course not.”

  “You better not be. You have a one-month contract with this guy. And then it’s over. You’re out of there. And you go back to living your life the way you want to. Not as some sexual slave to a rich man.”

  I chewed my bottom lip. Of course, she was right, but I had to make her understand how I felt. “I know I’ve not had much experience with guys, but this feels good and right, Katie.”

  “Two guys and that idiot Salvatore is not ‘much experience’, Skye. It’s almost no experience,” Katie stated firmly. “Maybe he’s good in bed, but you seriously need to stop fooling yourself that this is going to lead anywhere.”

  “I know it’s not going to lead anywhere,” I muttered.

  Someone called to her then, and she said, “Look, I got to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Speak tomorrow,” I said.

  “Bye.”

  “Bye,” I echoed softly and the line went dead.

  I switched off the light, and lay staring at the wall. The joy I had felt about gardening again was gone. Katie was right. I had to guard my heart. This would come to an end, this grand house, this luxurious bed, the greenhouse, and my amazing surroundings would be gone, and I would have to go out there into the world again and be Skye, the waitress.

  From now on I had to remember that.

  I was not a princess in a fairytale.

  I was just Skye, the waitress.

  Chapter 24

  Skye

  It was still dark the next morning when I got out of bed and went to the kitchen. There was no one else around, but Madam Mitterand was already up and sitting at the table drinking something from a cup and looking into an open notebook. She looked up at me and frowned.

  “Is something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing is wrong. I was wondering if I could have some cake or cookies.”

  Her eyes widened. “Cakes or cookies?”

  “Yes, I wanted to take it to John.”

  She looked at me as if I was mad. “You want to take cakes and cookies to John?”

  “Yes, I spoke to Luca last night and he said I could.”

  For a second she seemed lost for words, then she pushed her chair back and disappeared through a door. It must have been the pantry or something because she came back with two silver tins. Silently, she boxed some chocolate chip cookies and a few slices of butter cake into a white cardboard box. Then she tied the box with a red ribbon and handed it to me.

  “His favorites,” she said.

  “Thank you so much,” I said with a grateful smile.

  She didn’t smile back, but she didn’t look hostile either. She just nodded formally.

  The light outside was blue and I ran through the snow like a child. I felt full of hope. I knew now I was Skye the waitress, but it was okay to be Skye the waitress. Life was still good. My father was getting the best treatment money could buy, and I was here in the most beautiful place on earth. And I
was going to learn to garden again.

  The greenhouse came into view. There were no lights in it so maybe John was not there yet.

  However, when I peeped through the glass walls I saw him already bent before a row of vegetables on the ground.

  Right. Smile lots. I straightened my back and was about to go to the door when he turned and saw me watching him.

  He sighed elaborately.

  Smile lots.

  I grinned at him like a fool and lifted my box of goodies to show him that I had something for him.

  With another sigh he rose to his feet. When he started to walk towards the entrance I quickly ran over to meet him at the door. He stopped a few feet away from me.

  “I brought you cookies and cake,” I said and smiled again.

  “What kind?” he asked.

  “Chocolate chip cookies and butter cake.”

  A smile cracked on to his face. “Madam packed it?”

  I nodded and quickly closed the distance between us, handed him the box.

  “What exactly do you want to do in here?” he asked, his old fingers stroking the red ribbon on the box.

  “Help you out,” I said softly. “Learn how to plant some flowers.”

  His tone was gruff. “I don’t need you to help me out. What flowers do you want to plant?”

  “Sweet peas, Alliums, Bugleweed. Anything. Even vegetables if I can’t grow flowers.”

  “Do you have the seedlings?”

  My heart rate picked up. “I… I’ll order them tomorrow.”

  He gave me an exasperated look, then turned around to walk deeper into the greenhouse. My heart swelled with excitement as I followed him into the huge glass encased paradise that smelled of earth and good things.

  “There,” he pointed to an uncultivated patch of soil.

  But to me it seemed especially beautiful because it was demarcated by a small pond which I crossed over on a planked platform that acted as a bridge. On the pond’s surface were huge floating lily pads and the occasional flick of a fish’s silvery fin as it swam around in bliss. I squealed inside and pressed my hands together in gratitude.

  “Do you know how to prepare the soil?” John asked from behind me.

  I nodded. “I think I do.”

  “There are tools in those trays over there.”

  “Great,” I said moving towards them.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “When I was a child.”

  He arched a brow but I refused to give in to the doubt.

  “Alright. Get what you need and get to work. And no yammering in my ear.”

  “Got it. And thank you,” I said and got started.

  Soon, the available trays were laid out on the platforms of the areas I was given so I began to prepare them. I cleaned the platforms which seemed to have been quite neglected for a while, as well as the potting trays that I would need. The next few hours were happy ones while I logged and cleaned all the pots, even the ones that I would not be using. I couldn’t remember having a better day in months. Then I began to sweep the whole area.

  Midway through the job, I heard Mary Jane calling out to me. I almost wanted to hide from her so that I could keep going, but the thought of her brought to mind all the delicious food that I had indeed missed out on by choosing to slave away here instead of going for breakfast.

  “You missed breakfast,” she said kindly. “You can’t miss lunch too.”

  I stretched my stiff back and smiled at the glass of golden, iced tea she brought for me. The air outside was frigid, but the warmth in the greenhouse had made it feel anything but, so the refreshment from the cold iced tea was extremely welcomed.

  I downed the whole glass before releasing a deep breath. “I won’t miss lunch. I could eat a horse,” I told her. “What are we having today?”

  “Madam said since you have been working hard you will need something substantial so you are having rib-eye steak and crushed new potatoes.”

  “Sounds delicious,” I murmured.

  “It will be,” she said as she gazed around at the space. “Wow you’ve really cleaned it up.”

  “You've been in here before?’ I asked, as I continued with my sweeping.

  “Of course. I used to come here sometimes to collect vegetables for the Chef. There used to be a lot more variety growing in here, but since John…” she looked around to make sure he wasn’t in sight and whispered. “Lost his daughter earlier this year, he’s been quite grumpy and detached from all of us. He also lost a lot of interest in his plants. Nowadays the Chef buys most of the stuff he needs, and I don’t come around much.”

  At the information, I looked towards the direction of the man and my heart softened as I thought of his loss. Losing a loved one was the most devastating thing in the world. I knew that first hand. The many, many nights I cried myself to sleep. Something I thought that I still hadn’t got over the loss of my mother. For the last couple of years I’d lived with the terror I would go to sleep one day and get a phone call the next morning telling me my father was no more.

  “Let’s go,” Mary Jane said.

  I put the broom away and followed her out.

  “I can’t believe you're working in the greenhouse,” Mary Jane said. “I would have thought that you’d take this visit as a vacation and just lounge by the indoor pool.”

  “Indoor pool?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It’s gorgeous. I’ll take you there after lunch.”

  The idea sounded very promising because after my work at the greenhouse, stretching out my limbs and relaxing would surely be an incredibly rewarding event.

  “That would be great, thank you,” I said.

  Madam was waiting for us in the Orangery. “You’re going out to dinner with Don Messana tonight. Please be ready by 6.p.m.”

  Chapter 25

  Luca

  I took her to Boston’s harbor hotel with its sixty-foot stone archway and its panoramic views of the city’s skyline. It was also a personal favorite for other reasons. Security was easily monitored by my men, and my requests for privacy were always immediately fulfilled. As I mostly moved in the shadows and appreciated places that helped me maintain things that way.

  Across the terrace, private and heated transparent igloo-like boxes had been erected to both tackle the frigid winter air, and to provide privacy. One of the things I liked the most about these encasements were how the glass made it possible for you to see out, but for no one to see within.

  I sat at my usual enclosure with my customary glass of Dirty Martini and tried to imagine Skye working in the greenhouse… and couldn’t. I’d never even been inside it. I had to admit I’d never given the idea of gardening much thought, but I had formed the general impression gardeners were gardeners because they couldn’t find better jobs. The idea that Skye, who could have filled her time in a million other ways, chose to work hard in the greenhouse surprised and intrigued me.

  I glanced at my watch. A minute to seven. I knew she would be right on time. My men wouldn’t have allowed anything short of that. When I looked up Mateo was escorting her over to my table.

  She was wearing scarlet lipstick and wrapped up in a long jet-black coat that made her hair shine like gold. I stood and offered to help her out of her coat. For a moment she hesitated, her hands clenching the soft wool. Then she let go of the material and turned around so I could help her out of it and hand it to Mateo. He would keep it with him in the next enclosure. She turned around to face me.

  And my breathing quickened.

  To all intents and purposes she was covered up with long sleeves and a high neckline that delicately encircled her neck, but that was as far as the illusion of decency went. The entire thing was made of lace and thus bits of her skin and sometimes whole sections of her were very clearly visible through the fabric.

  I was quite certain she was naked underneath because I could see the full swell of her breasts, and the only part hidden with thicker lace designs was the areas surrounding
nipples and her crotch. My eyes skimmed over the skin of her hips that was exposed through the little holes in the patterns of the lace.

  And I was instantly hard.

  “Good evening,” she greeted as she took her seat without quite meeting my eyes. Her hair was pulled away from her face with a thin, glistening diamond headband. On her ears were simple stone studs.

  I lost my appetite for food and was ravenous for something else.

  Ideas about stopping the service and taking care of my hunger began to swirl in my head. All I needed was twenty minutes. And then I stopped myself. What was this attraction that made me behave like a hormone ridden teen? I had come across women whom had been more naked than she was, but I had never felt like fucking them on the restaurant table.

  I had been this way since the first time I laid eyes on her. I had attributed it to curiosity then, but I’d fucked her long and hard and yet my hunger showed no signs of waning. If anything the need was becoming worse. To distract myself, I picked up my glass of Dirty Martini and emptied it.

  The sommelier arrived together with a waiter. With a great sense of theater, they opened a bottle of Dom and poured it into the two flutes. Then withdrew and closed the glass doors.

  When I lifted my gaze to Skye’s I found her watching me. The candle light cast a beautiful golden glow on her skin. She was absolutely breathtaking.

  I raised my glass. “To your flowers.”

  She smiled and raised her glass. “It might not be flowers. It might be vegetables.”

  My gaze went to her lips.

  I took a sip and watched the muscles in her white throat move as she swallowed. She caught my eyes and sank her teeth into her bottom lip. God, how I wanted to fuck her. I picked up my menu without a word, and she did the same.

  I didn’t actually need to study the menu at all. I was well acquainted with it, but I needed those few seconds to get myself in order. The lust for her was incredible. After a little while, I set it down and she followed soon after. I pressed the call button and pretty soon there was a light tap on the glass.

 

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