Page 28 of Denim & Diamonds

February

“I’m getting divorced .”

I shook my head with a chuckle as my assistant walked into my office. Oliver had on a purple-checkered three-piece suit with a hot pink tie and matching hanky. His thick, horn-rimmed glasses sat on top of his head.

“Good morning to you, too. And you shouldn’t throw stuff like that out into the universe. No one else would put up with you.”

He slumped into the guest chair on the other side of my desk. “I sat on the gosh darn porcelain this morning, and it was cold and wet !”

My nose wrinkled. “What are we talking about here? And I wish you would start cursing again already. Gosh darn sounds bizarre coming out of your mouth.”

“Antonio used my bathroom. And no, I’m no longer a truck driver. This is the new me. I speak like an aristocrat now.”

“With a Brooklyn accent… ”

The week before I left for Sierra Wellness Center, Oliver and I had showed next year’s spring handbag line at a fashion show.

We were backstage rushing to get things ready when the one and only Donatella Versace had walked in.

Oliver hadn’t noticed her enter the room and was busy barking curses at a vendor who’d shown up late with one of the outfits a model was supposed to wear.

Donatella was gracious and complimented our line, but before she left, she told Oliver he was handsome but would be even more so if he didn’t use such foul language .

“I’m not sure I can handle you talking like an altar boy.” I shrugged. “But back to your divorce. You and Antonio don’t share the bathroom?”

“Definitely not . We have three bathrooms—the one in our bedroom is for communal peeing.” He clasped his hands together and then lifted the top one to demonstrate a lid opening.

“That seat stays up at all times.” He gator-chomped his hands closed.

“The other two are for pooping—his and his poop stations. Antonio uses the one in the guest room, and I use the one in our mother-in-law bedroom. This morning, I went to use my bathroom , and the seat was up! My boar of a husband not only violated our potty pact, but he sprinkled when he tinkled !”

I shook my head. “I think you’ll get over it.

Besides, you would shrivel up and die without Antonio, and you know it.

Who would cook your breakfast and dinner every day?

Who would prepare your morning cappuccino exactly as you like it, with one-point-five teaspoons of sugar—God forbid it be two teaspoons—and a dash of cocoa powder?

Who would make your welcome home lemon-drop martini at six fifteen promptly every day? Who— ”

Oliver held a hand up. “Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, always. But you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.

You should be happy that you have a partner—one who moved from Italy just to be with you and has stuck around for twenty years even though you threaten divorce three times a week.

” I frowned. “I can’t even get a man to move here from Maine. ”

“Oh, honey.” He leaned forward and patted my hand. “I told you I’d show you my secret blow-job techniques. My flute recitals can make a man give up living in a ten-bedroom palace in Milan for a three-bedroom dump in Queens.”

Antonio really had lived in a ten-bedroom house in Italy, but the three-bedroom place in Astoria his family had bought them as a wedding gift was far from a dump. The inside could’ve been featured in Architectural Digest .

I sighed. “I wish it were that simple.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

I shook my head.

“Texted?”

“Not since the night I got back.”

Brock had asked me to send him a text when I got home, which I did. He’d sent back a sentence or two. But that was it. I hadn’t heard from him again.

I’m not sure what I expected to happen between us once I left Meadowbrook.

It wasn’t like we’d made plans to keep in touch.

But I hadn’t thought things would come to such an abrupt end.

The day after I got back to New York had been super busy.

I’d spent fourteen hours at the office putting out fires and whipping things back into shape.

Yet I’d still checked my phone a few times, expecting to see a text from Brock at some point.

But none came. So I figured I’d wait until he was ready.

Unfortunately, I was still waiting two weeks later.

“Why don’t you just pick up the phone and call him?”

“I don’t want to make it harder for him.” I looked down at the silver coordinate bracelet on my wrist. I hadn’t taken it off since the morning Brock put it on, not even to shower. “Besides, at this point, there’s nothing left to say.”

“Say, come visit me . I miss you.”

The thought of Brock standing in the middle of Manhattan made me smile. “He’s never been to the City. He’d hate it here.”

“He wouldn’t be coming for a tour of the subway, rats, and graffiti. He’d be coming for a tour of you .” Oliver shrugged. “You’ll stay indoors and boink the whole time.”

“That would work if he were just a hook-up, but he’s not.

He’s an all-in type man. When he decided to build a cabin, he cut down the trees for the logs and collected stones to build a fireplace.

When the small town he grew up in struggled because the biggest employer shut down, he opened businesses to put people back to work.

He’s loyal and dedicated, and he deserves a woman who will be just as dedicated to him. ”

“You can do dedicated. You’re dedicated to this company.”

“That’s part of the problem. This company takes up all my time.”

“Sell it! Antonio worked in the family business—selling high-end collectible cars worth more than our house. Here he climbs telephone poles for ConEd. ”

“But Antonio hated his job in Milan. I love what I do.”

“You could always cut back and work less.”

I motioned to his iPad, which he’d walked in carrying. “Call up my schedule. Show me the next month.”

Oliver pressed some buttons and turned the screen to face me. There were colorful appointments and tasks crowding every day—even Saturdays and Sundays. “You’re a little full right now,” he said. “But that’s only because you were out for a month. It will get better.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been saying ‘ next month will be lighter ’ for more than nine years now. It doesn’t happen. Running a business is like chasing a butterfly. Just when you think you catch it, it flutters and makes you run to keep up.”

“Well, you need to figure out something. Because I can’t take the mopey, sad face anymore. You look like the Mona Lisa.”

“People think the Mona Lisa is beautiful.”

“ Idiots think she’s beautiful.”

I laughed. “Did you come in here with any actual business to discuss? If not, I have a lot of work to do to prepare for the four-PM board of directors meeting I’m dreading.”

“No, but why is there another board meeting so soon? You just had one two weeks ago when you got back. Aren’t they usually a monthly thing?”

“They were . But I’m pretty sure certain members are trying to keep a close eye on me, to make sure I don’t crack.”

Oliver stood. “This is like your Friday from hell. The board followed by Lame and Blame’s wedding tonight. ”

“Is Johnathan Lame or Blame?”

“He’s both, sweetheart. And, by the way, my offer to be your plus one is still open, if you change your mind. My tux is pressed and ready to go.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I really do. But I’m just going to show my face and then slip out.”

“Are you at least wearing the green dress that slits almost all the way up to your hoochy-coochy and dips down to your tater tots?”

“I was just going to wear the black one I wore to the Dolce he was probably in his late sixties.

But because of the way he talked down to women—like I should be getting his coffee rather than running a company.

I lifted my chin, motioning to the corner of my desk.

“Just put it on top of that pile I’m bringing, please. ”

Oliver was almost out of my office when something on the package he’d set down caught my eye. I reached for it. “This package is from Lucchi?”

“How do you know that?”

I pointed to the top right corner of the address label. “This is their logo.”

Oliver walked back and looked over my shoulder. “You’re right. It is. I didn’t notice. Why is a board member getting something delivered from our biggest competitor?”

Unease grew in the pit of my stomach. “I have no idea.”

“Have you discussed Lucchi at any of your board meetings?”

I shook my head. “Definitely not.”

“Well, let’s open this baby and find out.”

“We can’t. That’s an invasion of privacy.”