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“No,” she cut me off emphatically.
Looking back, that was the only time she’d fought me on something, well, until she handed me divorce papers.
Lucia sat down next to me on the couch, sitting a bit too close, her breasts brushing against my arm. Uncomfortable as fuck but hoping it was just an accident, I got up, went to the bar, and poured her a glass of champagne from the fridge, her after-work drink of choice.
She took the glass and looked at me with her beautiful blue-gray eyes. “Grazie, Dante.”
Lucia was stunning.Beautiful. She always wore makeup that looked like she didn’t. Her skin glowed like porcelain. Her body was thinner than I’d prefer, but she worked out and controlled her diet like afiend—how she looked was important to her, and she took pride in it.
I thought about Elysa, who loved to eat, but ran, and walked to avoid gaining weight. She had curves, delicious ones. Naked, she looked like one of those voluptuous Venuses by Botticelli or Titian.
“So, how are things?” she asked.
I shrugged.
Things were not okay.
My wife had filed for divorce because she heard me tell Dean I wondered if you’d make a better wife.
I sat next to Lucia and appraised her frankly. She was attractive,yes. I knew sex with her was damn good. She was a great partner, ready to try anything. But right now, I couldn’t imagine being with her, not while Elysa’s taste was still on my tongue, not when I closed my eyes at night, my hand on my stiff cock, I thought of my wife, of the sounds she made, of how she called out my name when she found release.
And then there was the fact that I’d lied to Elysa when I said the lawyers were looking at the paperwork. They weren’t. The papers were still in the flat in the top drawer of my dresser. I hadn’t looked at them. It had been over a week, and I had done nothing. First, I told myself I was busy. Now, I wasn’t sure what was the cause of my hesitancy.
I was confused as hell.
My bewilderment stemmed from how I was behaving.
I’d thought that once Nonno died, I would get a divorce—and yet, I’d just convinced Elysa…okay, blackmailed her, into being my plus one for the Carrera Charity gala.
I could say it was because Signora Carrera had insisted that Elysa come so she could thank her for all her help. But I also knew that it didn’t feel right to go without her, especially since, for the past year, she’d always been with me.
I didn’t even know Elysa had done charity work. I thought she worked as a server at the bistro, and besides that, sheworkedas my wife.
I cringed at the thought.
Yes, she didworkas my wife—and she didallthe work.
She made all the adjustments. She left her home and moved intomyflat. She changed her wardrobe to meet my societal needs. She learned Italian because it was my language.
She workedveryhard to ensure that we had a good relationship as two people sharing space and a life. While she did all that, I took what I wanted and gave back…nothing.
I gave back nothing!
I rose and walked up to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the Palazzo Giordano’s presidential suite. I looked at the sea of red and white floating over the roads and tried to understand myself. I’d been so confident when I talked to Dean that I wanteda divorce now that Nonno was gone—and yet, now, when, as Elysa said, she’d handed it to me on a silver platter, I was dawdling.
Was I a cliché? Now that she was gone, I wanted her but when I had her I didn’t appreciate her.
I saw Lucia coming up behind me, and before she could put her hands on me, I turned around to face her, even as I stepped away from her.
She seemed surprised by that. She shouldn’t have been. I’d always kept it professional between us. It was inappropriate for us to have anything else between us. Not only was I a married man, but we also worked together.
Don’t dip your pen in the company ink, not unless you want to marry the ink.
Lucia searched my face for answers and then smiled uneasily. “Dante, we should get to work.”
“Si,cara,” I conceded and sat on the couch.
Cazzo! I did call Luciacara. How disrespectful was that to my wife?Very.