by Fiona Murphy
An instant message comes through from Dante asking me to come into his office. “Speak of the devil. Go on in while I finish putting the finishing touches on this report.”
His suit jacket is off, his tie is undone, and his shirt is unbuttoned to the middle of his chest with the plain white shirt beneath visible. It’s startling after the pressed, neat appearance from the last time I met him.
He chuckles. “I’m surprised Jeanine didn’t warn you. I detest the suit and tie thing. I don’t care if they are made of silk, they are constricting. Cesare can sleep in his. Then again, he has to wear suits, his ink would give him away for the hood he used to be before we became respectable.” Ink, tattoos, hood? I know the brothers grew up in a middle-class neighborhood, their first language was Italian at their prosecutor for the city of Chicago father’s insistence. That they even attended a top-rated private Catholic school up until high school when they went to another private school, at least Cesare did, after what happened Enzo and Dante went to public schools. There is a lot written about their years before the murder-suicide of their mother and father but the time between the deaths and their appearance on the real estate scene flipping property is filled with nothing but rumors.
“Oh yes, once the suit is off none of us are as respectable as we look. Those are stories for another time, like how Cesare’s nose came to look as if it’s been broken, and it has been, three times actually.” He motions for me to sit. “So how was your first day? What are your thoughts?”
“So far it’s as advertised—I don’t foresee any issues. Hannah is great, and Jeanine is thorough in her training.”
“Good to hear. Tomorrow night Cesare will need you to accompany him to dinner with a client. Rodney Billings is a major commercial leasing client who has been out of Chicago for a few years. He’s moving back after a bad divorce so it won’t be heavy on the business, more about personal support. In fact, we debated you going but Cesare isn’t seeing anyone right now, and there was no woman he felt like bothering with to accompany him.” My attempt to appear nonchalant at the idea of a night out with Cesare apparently fails miserably, as Dante pauses then tilts his head as his eyes narrow. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
Fighting the blush I feel spreading across my face. “No, not a problem at all. Should I look into Mr. Billings’ history, just in case?”
Two seconds stretch into what feels like eons before he leans back to study me thoroughly. “You are an intelligent woman. I won’t go into all the reasons why becoming involved with Cesare is a bad idea. If he should do anything, say anything to make you uncomfortable, let me know. You won’t need to endure anything you find unacceptable. However, if you do welcome it, be absolutely sure you’re willing to accept everything that comes with it. Cesare would like to speak to you—you can go directly into his office.”
I fight to open my mouth to argue with what he’s said, but my tongue won’t work. While he’s giving me the opportunity to leave with my pride intact, I take it.
Cesare’s door is closed. I knock lightly as those damn bees are back from this morning and fighting to escape. “Come.”
Even through the door, his voice is a deep smoky tease to every sense I have. I open the door. He’s leaning back in his chair smoking a cigar with the cool arrogance of a king before his subject. His black eyes are unfathomable, his expression shuttered. It’s rude of him to smoke without asking me if I was all right with it. Yet as I step into the room the scent of cherries, wood, and cinnamon wafts toward me and it isn’t unpleasant. I wonder if that’s what his mouth would taste like... Holy shit. Stop it. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Shit, I sound as breathless as I feel.
Oh god, now those black eyes smolder with heat. His gaze is heavy as if he were touching me as it lingers over me, up my legs so slow then stopping at my breasts. My body reacts instantly, wantonly; my breasts are heavy, nipples tight and thrusting against the brand-new silk bra that makes me even more aware of what he’s doing to me with a single look. He exhales smoke, and it winds around him in a gray fog like I long to. Get a grip.
“You are needed for dinner tomorrow night. You will wear something that covers you completely. Your breasts will not be on show. Your hair will be up. You are not to wear heels higher than two inches.” His eyes are on my hair long and loose down my back. “Throughout dinner, you will not flirt—as far as the client is to know you are involved with someone. You will not dance with him or allow him to touch you beyond a handshake. Do you understand?”
Okay, maybe it’s the smoke or the heat in his eyes turning my brain to mush, but I don’t understand. I can’t stop the shake of my head. I don’t understand any of it.
Cesare stills as the air around him shimmers with a volatile energy. “What don’t you understand?” The words are rapped out as stiffly as a ruler across my knuckles.
The sting of his words clears my head. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me not to act like some kind of man-hungry woman intent on capturing the attention of a man when I am not, nor have I ever been like that.” I snap back, hurt at the way he saw me.
I swear even the smoke seems to stop moving. Oxygen is trapped in my lungs until finally, he blinks. Eyes glitter like black ice, and they feel as lethal and dangerous as the real thing. “I was not implying you are man-hungry. My instructions are for your protection. Billings is coming out of a bad divorce, and he’s had bad manners in the past. I do not want you to be on the receiving end of anything that would make you uncomfortable. Neither Dante nor I put our clients before our employees, if something were to happen, we would cut ties. It’s best to be proactive to ensure we never get to that point.”
The words make sense yet there is an underlying hint of aggression, a warning that I’m embarrassed to admit thrills me. What the hell is the matter with me? He inhales on the cigar, causing the tip to glow bright red. “I don’t like people who smoke, cigarettes or cigars.” The words come out forced—I’m trying to remind myself.
His head goes back and a dark eyebrow goes up with indolent amusement as he exhales slowly. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck if you like me or not. You’re excused for the day, go home.”
I’m dismissed. With another pull on the cigar his eyes go to his computer screen. Instantly, I shiver at the extreme change from hot to cold without his eyes on me. Sucking in air, I move fast out of the room, confusion overwhelming me. I don’t remember saying goodbye to Jeanine; all I know is I’m in the elevator, and Dante’s words come back to me now as I fight to understand what the hell just happened.
Wait a minute—Dante warned me about getting involved with Cesare. At the time all I could think of was him knowing of my bizarre fascination with his brother. But he was letting me know I might be on the receiving end of Cesare coming on to me, and if I wasn’t accepting, to let Dante know.
That means Dante believes Cesare is attracted to me. No fucking way. The words come out of me in shock. Cesare Sabatini, attracted to me? The elevator door opens, and blindly I get out. No way. No, it’s insanity. All of it. My mind can’t take it and shuts down on it, on everything.
4
Cesare
The moment the door closes behind Alicia, my whole body shudders as I exhale the tension she caused. Fuck. I pull deep on the cigar, trying to focus on the flavor, the enjoyment I’ve always received as the smoke rolls around in my mouth and the nicotine hits my system. Closing my eyes doesn’t help—all I see is her. Those curves on display, her blouse unbuttoned only by two small buttons, but it was enough to show her smooth golden skin and hint at those gorgeous breasts. My cock jerks at the memory of the way her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened to fine points beneath my gaze. I slam down the cigar into the ashtray. Damn it.
This dinner promises to be a night of finding out how good my self-restraint is. In other words, pure hell.
***
Cesare
Dante knocks on my door even as he opens it. I barely look up from
the report I’m almost done with. “Come on, old man, it’s time for dinner. Enzo is already waiting downstairs in the car.”
I shake my head. “I’m almost done. Go on. I’ll grab something on the way home.”
“No, it can wait. The world will keep turning if you don’t finish it right now. I, however, will deck you if you keep me hungry for seconds longer than necessary.”
With a sigh I look up to see he’s got his jacket on, his tie undone around his neck. At least his shirt is tucked in if unbuttoned to his chest. “Fine. Two minutes, let me shut down.”
Dante moans as his head goes back. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”
“I swear you sound like you’re ten years old.”
“A starving ten-year-old. I’m so hungry.”
“Why don’t you keep snacks in your damn office like I tell you to a dozen times a month.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, I never know what I want. Don’t tell me you don’t get hungry too.”
“I do, which is why I have almonds, some jerky, and those roasted chickpeas. Here, have some chickpeas on the drive over, they are really good.” I toss him one of the tins they came in. He pops the lid and gives them a try.
“These are good, crunchy and smoky. What’s the flavor?”
“Those are barbeque, I have some ranch ones that are good too.”
“Where did you get these again?”
“That dietician Doctor Weber hooked me up with last year. She bought all kinds of snacks for me to try. When I picked the ones I liked, she gave them to Claudine to buy and send to the office. Tell Claudine to order you some.” Claudine is the housekeeper who runs my and Dante’s homes and private life. She not only cleans our homes and buys our food, she manages our bills and orders our suits and other clothes when needed.
“I still don’t get what Doctor Weber was talking about. Too thin, how can somebody be too thin? You didn’t look like it either. Okay, yeah, you do look a little better now, but I wouldn’t have called you too thin.”
I shrug, not willing to share now as I hadn’t at the time the doctor’s warning about my workouts being too intense without enough healthy fats, and a heart attack was looming in my future if I didn’t make changes. His seriousness captured my attention enough for me to follow most of his recommendations. I still need my workouts whether they’re once or twice a day—they’re my salvation to vent my frustrations.
Downstairs the sun is setting as I get into the limo that’s needed to carry the three of us. A Town Car is never big enough. I check my watch, it’s a little after seven thirty. Enzo is scrolling through his cell phone.
“Brenda let loose the reins tonight?” Dante asks with a knowing smile.
Enzo’s eyes meet mine the moment before he rolls his. He knows Dante’s always happy to jerk his chain. “Brenda is a bad memory.”
Dante nods with satisfaction. “Thank god. I don’t get what you saw in her. She had no tits, at all. She looked like a damn scarecrow. You want to hit the club tonight?”
Enzo shakes his head. “I’m full up on drama and bullshit. I think I’m going to take a break for a minute.”
“Great, I finally get Cesare off the bench and down you go.”
Fucking Dante. “Jesus, will you drop it? I’ve told you nothing is going to happen with her. Let it go.”
“She has him smoking again and slamming doors like a toddler in a fit. My ass nothing is going to happen.”
Enzo sighs. “Smoking again? Damn man, I don’t need Doctor Weber giving me shit about you when I go in for my own checkup. What’s the big deal with the woman?”
Doctor Weber had been a pain in the ass about the cigars. We all share the same doctor we’ve had since we were in our teens. After so many years, which included visits when we couldn’t afford to pay to be seen, Doctor Weber takes HIPAA as a suggestion between the three of us. I’ve gotten lectures on Dante’s promiscuity while both Dante and Enzo were on me to quit smoking to get the lectures to stop. Before I open my mouth, Dante answers, “She’s my new assistant, which does annoy me. I’m not happy about having to get a new one, but I’ll deal. I don’t get why he’s being such a grouch about her either. She’s no centerfold, but she’s pretty, and has the body of a real woman, all curves and shit. He gets all that and still bitches.”
I don’t like the idea of Dante taking notices of Alicia’s curves. “Shut the fuck up about her body,” I snarl.
Both the fuckers laugh, and Enzo shakes his head. “I can’t wait to meet her. I’d also lay off Dante, he looks like he’d love to pound your face. While he’s taking his time accepting his fate, it’s best to steer clear of his fists.”
The car stops outside of the restaurant, we unload to find a table is waiting for us. Porters is a place we come to often enough they know our orders without asking. A bottle of red wine is waiting for Enzo. I order a scotch if I’m going to have to put up with this teasing bullshit.
“So what’s so special about her?” Enzo asks as he sips his wine.
Dante shrugs, and I ignore the question while I check my email. “I’m going with the real woman curves. There’s also the fact she’s got a lot more in common with Che than he knows. Her mom disappeared on her and her sister when she was only ten, dropping her on her grandmother. The grandmother gave the responsibility of the sister to Alicia. Alicia has been taking care of her sister ever since and doing a pretty good job of it. The sister is in a program to become a physician assistant. In addition to working full time, she also has to supplement her income by making quilts she sells online. She’s no taker and is willing to work hard for what she has.”
“She sounds like a fucking unicorn. I haven’t met a woman in years who didn’t expect something in return for the mere pleasure of saying hello to her. I say lock that shit down if she’s dumb enough to put up with your ass.” Enzo salutes me with his wineglass.
I ignore him as I swallow my scotch. “Drop it, it’s not happening. Can we discuss something else, anything else?”
Dante shakes his head as he sips his own glass of red wine. “Whatever, she’s got him twisted.”
Throwing back the scotch, I contemplate getting up and leaving. Until Enzo punches Dante on the shoulder. “All right, you can talk to me later about it. Right now, you’re giving him indigestion before we even have our food. I’m in the mood for a quiet meal after the day I’ve had.”
Dante laughs. “Fine, I’m thinking about getting a new boat. You want to come with me to look this weekend?”
Just like that, the subject of Alicia is dropped. I wish I could say it was the last time I think of her for the night, but I can’t.
***
Alicia
I move the chicken around on my plate. With a sigh I put it down. This was one of my favorite microwave dinners, but I think I’ve had it too many times.
My phone rings, setting Grover off on the intent to kill my phone. I snatch it up without checking the display. “Hello?”
“Hey Alicia, I wanted to check on you. When you left, you seemed a little...off. Is everything okay?”
The internal debate about talking to Jeanine lasts twenty seconds. I don’t really have any friends. In high school I was a nerd struggling to get good grades because I thought I needed a scholarship, unaware until my senior year the state would cover tuition for an in-state university. In college I still needed to work to support myself and Bethany. I barely had enough time to study, let alone form friendships. At the school where I worked, most of the teachers were married, and the ones who weren’t only wanted to go out drinking to bars or clubs. The only person I really talk to is Bethany, and there is no way I can talk to her about this.
With a deep breath it all comes out, from what Dante said in his office to what Cesare said in his. When I stop, I wonder if it was right to share with her. Her silence grows until I’m having a hard time sucking in air.
“Holy crap, you have landed Cesare Sabatini. I never thought I would see the day. I’m also sure Ces
are never thought he’d see it either, which is why he’s being a huge asshole.”
Her words spark fear deep inside me. “No, I don’t want to land Cesare Sabatini. The guy is completely out of my league. I have no comprehension of what to do with a guy like him. How can you say that? He’s mean, he’s rude, he’s disrespectful. Did my phone cut out while I was talking or something?”
“I heard every word you said. And it’s like I said, Cesare never thought any woman would break through his fortress of solitude. Sorry, my husband’s a huge nerd. It’s why he's so rude to you. Cesare stopped smoking cigars almost two years ago. He’s lapsed a few times with clients, we’re talking twice. That man has never told Hannah or me what to wear. Yes, he and Dante have stopped working with men who overstepped their bounds. Once a guy grabbed my ass, and Cesare cut all ties the next day in agreement with Dante.
“However, Cesare has never cared if I got handsy with a client or danced with one. Hell, I was trying to land a husband for a while there. He never cared, he sure as hell never said to tell someone I already had a man. He wants you to tell them you have a man because as far as he’s concerned he’s your man, and he doesn’t want to have to get territorial with a client.”
“That’s crazy.” I gasp the words out.
“Okay, if it’s crazy, ignore his instructions. Instead of the black Christian Siriano dress which is exactly what he wants you to wear, wear the Monique Lhuillier in peach. You’ll know exactly what he wants when he sees you in that dress.”
The peach dress, which was bought without me actually agreeing. It’s a shimmering, clinging, gorgeous dress that bares not just my shoulders but down to my breasts exactly the way Cesare told me not to. “I don’t know. I mean what, what would me getting involved with Cesare even turn into other than me jobless and in tears?”
