Page 9

Chapter Nine

Roman

“ Y ou’ve got to be kidding me!” I bark into the phone as I pull up social media.

Penelope sighs into the receiver. “I wish I weren’t. She posted it about an hour ago.”

I find the A-list actress’s account, and there it is in black and white.

Sometimes, you think you’re staying at the best of the best … then you see how others are getting the star treatment elsewhere, and you realize you might be wrong.

“She’s fucking unbelievable. Do you think she’s talking about Zenith Manor?”

Penelope goes silent. She does it when she’s hesitant to deliver bad news to me.

“Just spill it, Penelope.”

“We did some digging. One of her biggest enemies in the business just posted about how they were getting the red-carpet treatment. Turned out, she was staying at Zenith.”

Celebrities these days. They can take you down with one single post to their social media. Luckily, she didn’t post where she was staying … this time. But it’s a clear message that we aren’t doing enough for her.

“What the hell does she want?” I ask as I massage my forehead.

“I say we go all out. Have the chef whip up some incredible five-star dinner and dessert. Go to Fifth Avenue and buy the latest trending clothing and accessories that we lay out for her. She has forty million followers. We can’t afford for her to go back to LA without making sure we right this wrong. ”

“Fine,” I snap back. “Do whatever you need to keep her from talking any further. Give her our rarest wines. Offer to jet her back to LA on us. We can’t afford for her to leave unhappy.”

I slam the phone down and pinch the bridge of my nose to try and ward off the looming headache.

There are customers you love to spoil because they are grateful and pleasant to the staff, and then there are the ones who feel entitled to everything.

If you don’t cater to them every second of their stay, they feel like you’re not doing enough.

A knock at my door pulls me from my moment of self-pity. Eva’s standing there with a worried look that immediately gives me an odd sense of comfort.

“Everything all right?” she asks.

I wave my hand in the air. “Nothing that I’m not used to. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to get your approval on the concierge area, but it can wait.”

“Of course. Come on in.”

“I was going back and forth between where I wanted the desk to be. I ultimately decided just off to the right of the main entrance. I didn’t want it too close to the front desk for logistical reasons.”

She comes around my desk and places her laptop in front of me, then leans forward. Her long brown hair hangs inches from my face, and I smell the scent of her shampoo—some kind of floral with a hint of honey.

It’s sweet but strong—just like her.

I look down at the floor plan, where she is pointing.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” I ask, hoping she doesn’t suspect the reason for my distraction.

Luckily, she runs through it one more time for me. I take a minute to think through the process of checking in at the front desk, then walking over to talk to the concierge.

Close enough to the front desk, but out of the way, in case the main area gets congested.

“I like it. Logistically, it works. I approve.”

“Great. That’s all I needed. I’ll leave you to it.”

The rest of the day is spent putting out fire after fire until I have to call it quits around five.

I glance down at my watch to see that I’ve got fifteen minutes to book it to Ma’s place, which isn’t going to happen.

It’ll take me at least forty-five minutes to get out to her place, which means I’ll probably make it just as everyone is sitting down for dinner.

Aside from getting to see my family, there’s another reason I love going to Ma’s, and it’s getting out of the city in my Rolls-Royce. There’s nothing like pounding the pavement and pressing my foot to the pedal while I listen to my playlists.

It’s a way to put everything on the back burner and live in the moment. The only other times I’m that in the moment is when my dick is inside a tight pussy.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m pulling into Ma’s driveway. For all the money my siblings and I have, Ma has never wanted us to get her a large house. She says it’s a waste of money when it’s just her living there.

She did still want a four-bedroom house so we would have rooms to sleep in over the holidays or for when we gave her grandchildren.

I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but she can’t count on me to give her any grandchildren.

That’s not in the cards for me. I’m just hoping one of my siblings falls in love and starts a family before Ma realizes I’m a lost cause.

The moment I open the door, the aromas of the house hit my nostrils and send a warmth of nostalgia through my body. Ma’s from a little place in Italy called Montepulciano. It’s known for its incredible pecorino cheeses, and Ma uses that in tons of her cooking.

“Nice of you to make time for us,” my brother Julian quips the moment he sees me.

I walk toward my seat next to him at the dinner table, knocking the back of his head with my hand on the way.

“Don’t be a dick,” I reply. “You know these renovations are taking most of my time.”

I lean down and kiss Ma on the cheek before I take my seat. “Hi, Ma. Sorry I’m late.”

“Watch your language at my table,” she scoffs.

“Sorry,” I say politely.

There’s one thing you don’t do, and that’s cross Chiara Bertini. She’ll take you down if she wants to. Which is why I’ve found it so odd that she never tried to go after more of Pa’s money after the divorce.

“How are the renovations going?” my other brother Luca asks.

“Ugh,” Izzy, my sister, grunts. “Do we have to talk work the second you sit down?”

My sister Izzy and the youngest sibling, Aria, both chose very admirable careers. Izzy is a nurse, and Aria is a veterinarian. Luca, Julian, and I sold out for the money.

That happens when you become cynical about love.

“Fine, Izzy,” Luca replies with obvious irritation. “What does the princess want to talk about?”

She rolls her eyes.

Aria speaks up. “How about you getting caught getting handsy with the mayor’s daughter?”

Luca scowls at her.

Ma gasps. “Luca Bertini. Tell me that’s not true.”

He looks over at Ma, the sting of her disapproval obvious. “I didn’t know who she was, nor was I aware that we were being photographed.”

Ma’s head falls into her hands as she mumbles in Italian to herself.

“Thanks for that,” Luca says to Aria.

“Maybe think twice before referring to your sisters as princesses,” she replies unapologetically.

Any stranger coming in and joining us would think we all hated each other, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. We are all extremely close. As weird as it may sound, teasing each other is our love language.

“I spoke with your aunt Maria today,” Ma tells us.

“How is she doing?” Izzy asks.

“She’s wonderful. Cousin Mario just announced that he and his wife are expecting.”

I look over at my brothers, who give me a knowing look. We are very well aware of what’s about to happen.

“Of course, I’m happy for your cousins. And my sister is over the moon to become a grandma.” She leans back against her chair with a solemn look. “I just wonder if I’ll ever have the opportunity to experience the joy of becoming a grandma. You boys give me no hope.”

I know the guilt I’m supposed to feel, but it’s hard to when she lays it on so thick.

“I’ll take this one,” I say to my brothers.

“Ma”—I look back at her—“marriage and babies might not be in the cards for us. But you always have Aria and Izzy. I’m sure they’ll make you a grandma one day.”

“And I look forward to that, but I’m talking about my boys right now. What did I do wrong that you all feel this way about marriage?”

“It’s nothing you did, Ma,” Julian replies.

“Well, how do all three of you feel that way? I must’ve done something wrong.”

The look of guilt in her eyes is too much to take. I don’t know the reason for my brothers, though I assume it’s similar to mine, but it’s not something that I discuss with people.

“Let’s just move on,” I tell her. “I came here to enjoy dinner with my family, not be interrogated.”

Ma sighs but nods her head. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

“Yes, Ma,” we reply in unison.

The rest of the evening is spent with lots of food and laughter. Although, every few minutes, my mind gets pulled to thoughts of Eva.

Things like, I wonder what she’s doing right now. I wonder if she’s still at work. Maybe she’s working out again. If she is, is she wearing the same outfit as the other night?

After that, I can’t stop picturing her tight little body in that damn spandex. I will admit, it’s easier, having put my attraction out in the open. The guilt is gone, but I’m finding that the attraction is still as strong as ever.

I’m thinking if I just push past it, there will be a solid friendship on the other side. After all, I don’t do feelings, so what harm can it do?