Page 40 of One Filthy Kiss

“Now, Giovanni, perhaps it is time for you to move on, huh?” Emiliano refills our glasses. The business tone is gone. Now, we are friends.

I accept my glass as he slides it across the desk. “I still have unfinished business.”

“We always have unfinished business.” He waves his arm above his head in a regal flourish. “But we should not let it get in the way of real life. I would not be the man I am without Caterina. She is the love of my life, Giovanni, and a man might be many things, but he is still nothing without love.”

I smile. I believe my father would agree with him if he was here.

“Thisfriendof yours.” He narrows his eyes at me from across the desk. “How do you feel about her? She is worth saving, no?”

“She is worth saving.” I incline my head.

“Do you envisage a future with her in it?”

I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I understand what he is saying. Can I see tomorrow with Meggie in it:yes. And the day after tomorrow, and the day after that. But I already know how easy it would be to slip into a routine of waking up to her each morning, of going home to her at the end of each day, and of spending our nights in each other’s arms.

“Let me put it another way.” He sits forward. “Do you envisage a future without her?”

I swallow, and my mouth is dry. My hands ball into fists. Without Meggie, the sun would not shine sobrightly. Coffee would not give me the same buzz. And there would be no point working twenty-four-seven to make more money than I will ever be able to spend on myself.

“I think you already have your answer.” He raises his glass in a toast. “You have my blessing, Giovanni.”

My phone vibrates. I slide it from my pocket expecting to see Meggie’s name because it is right there on the tip of my tongue.

Instead, I have a message from my brother.

Just left the beautiful Meggie at Central Park Zoo. I’m surprised you didn’t tell her about Elisabetta, brother. But don’t worry. I filled her in on all the missing details.

9

MEGAN

I wishI hadn’t agreed to Enzo coming along with us to the zoo. It’s obvious now that he was only trying to cause trouble for his brother. I know that I should give Gio the benefit of the doubt and the opportunity to give me his side of the story, but I can’t suddenly forget that he was once engaged to be married.

Back at the apartment, Amber sits in front of the cinema-sized TV screen with a bowl of popcorn and a carton of apple juice, and I head straight to the kitchen. I pull all the ingredients I need to make chocolate brownies from the well-stocked cupboards, and I bake while I try to reassemble my thoughts.

The logical explanation is that I’ve only known Gio for three days, nowhere near enough time to reveal all our secrets. Not that I expected him to tell me everything just because we fucked on our first date. Almost-date. If that’s what it could even be called.

Oh God. My face feels like a furnace. We fucked on our first date, and now he has no reason to even stick around.

“Whatever happened to holding back, Meg?” I mutter under my breath.

I don’t know why the news of Gio’s fiancée has affected me so badly. It was a long time ago, and the poor woman died in a car crash. I should feel sad for him. He lost the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and in such tragic circumstances.

But instead, I’m thinking about myself. I created this fairy tale image in my head of the perfect man with the perfect history. I convinced myself that he’d never been in love before, that no other woman had ever captured his heart enough for him to propose to her and plan a wedding. I’m not angry with him for not telling me about Elisabetta; I’m angry at myself for thinking that I might mean something to him.

As if someone who looks like Giovanni Sabatelli would have saved himself for a would-be baker from East London with a sister to look after.

What else have I been fooling myself about?

I peer at the baking trays in front of me. While I’ve been unpacking my thoughts, I’ve made plain brownies, blondie-brownies, and peanut butter brownies with chunks of Reese’s Pieces smothered in caramel on top. But for once, the sight of them doesn’t inflate me the way I’d hoped.

What if Gio just told me to believe in myself so that he could get inside my panties?

I slide the trays into the oven and close the door.

I lean against the counter and stare into space. It’s a moot point. I’d already let him inside my panties. I mean, I took them off for him, so he didn’t exactly have to try thathard. I didn’t even make him work for it, so perhaps he was trying to help when he told me to believe in myself.

Or maybe it was his way of letting me down gently.