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Natalia: I guess that makes me feel better. Just don’t forget to call. I love you.
Me: Love you, too.
I set the phone down, determined to erase the nervous blushed color from my cheeks before facing Enzo, but then my phone lit up with another message. Ugh, Thomas.
A-Hole Ex: I heard what happened this morning. Did you get hurt? Talk to me. Are you okay?
How in the hell did he find out what happened?
Me: What are you talking about?
A-Hole Ex: I knew he was a danger to you. You should never have been at his place.
Me: How’d you find out? You’re out of town. Are you having someone spy on me?
And why was I getting the weird Peeping Tom creepy feeling from him? And you are a Tom. Shit.
A-Hole Ex: Why in the hell would I spy on you?
I highly doubted Natalia or Ryan would’ve told anyone what went down that morning. No, it didn’t make sense.
A-Hole Ex: And if you ever answered your phone, you’d know I just got back to Charlotte. Work emergency. I have to fly out tonight. Be back Sunday or Monday. Where the hell are you?
Me: Wait, what? You’re home?
My phone buzzed as he tried to call, but I sent it to voice mail, knowing he’d hear the lie in my voice when I gave him a BS excuse.
Me: I had to leave town. I’m in New York. We’re thinking of opening a second location here. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you getting pissed. I’ll call my parents and have them meet you to get Chiara, and they can watch her until I get back.
I’d much rather Chiara be with my parents than with Thomas during this mess anyway. But now that she was back home, it made being away from her that much harder.
A-Hole Ex: You’re in New York?! Are you fucking with me right now? You can’t just leave without telling me, damn it.
Me: I need to call my parents. You can yell at me in person when I get home.
A-Hole Ex: Oh yeah, and when will that be? Don’t even tell me you’re with the chef.
Fine. I won’t tell you. I called my mom, ignoring the flood of messages from him that followed.
I managed to get off the call in less than a minute, dodging as many of her questions as possible, promising to fill her in tonight. I needed a cover story first that made sense.
When I finally made my way back into the bedroom, I found Enzo waiting for me, and my cheeks were fire-hot from dealing with Thomas.
“Thomas is back in Charlotte. He had a work thing, so my parents are going to get Chiara. She’ll stay with them until I’m back.”
“Then I’m taking you home. You need to be with her,” he said without missing a beat.
I folded my arms. “I’m here until Sunday. That’s the deal. Don’t argue with me. She’s in good hands.” I gave him a stubborn lift of my chin before my gaze fell to my suitcase. “So, how are we supposed to fit everything into the Porsche?”
He stroked his jawline, clearly contemplating an argument. He shook his head, grunted, and my shoulders fell with relief when he didn’t push back on sending me home. “Fine. I’ll send Alessandro to come back for the boxes tonight or tomorrow.”
“So we came here for no reason?”
He surprised me with a smile and brushed his knuckles over my cheek. “I don’t know, I feel like it worked out, don’t you?”
My body shivered in response, but after he stepped away and took my suitcase, my arms fell to my sides at the memory of the first part of my conversation with Thomas in the bathroom.
Enzo’s brows slanted. Had he read my thoughts? “What is it?”
