“Hey, Vins!”
“Hey! How was Spain?”
My stomach twists, not sure how to answer without lying to her. It’s unavoidable.
“Good. Busy. Uneventful.”
Her sweet laughter fills the receiver. “Uneventful? I know that’s not true. Please indulge your pregnant friend and tell me every juicy detail.”
Visions of Luciano devouring me flash through my mind, but I can’t exactly give her those details, now can I?
“There’s honestly not much to tell.” Desperate to pivot, I change the topic. “How are you feeling? How’s my niece or nephew?”
“Good! Kicking up a storm. Sly has been bothering me to find out the gender, but I just don’t think I want to. There’s something so magical about waiting.”
“What if he finds out and you don’t?”
“Oh c’mon, Raina, no! If he knew, I’d be bothering him twenty-four-seven to tell me. And hewouldn’t, and then I’d end up irrationally irritated with him.” She laughs, and I imagine her shaking her head.
“Yeah, you’d totally do that.” I laugh with her. “Okay, I miss your face and want to see you. Do you have time for lunch this week?”
“I have an ultrasound appointment on Thursday, but can meet you after. Are you free?”
“Vinnie, for you, I’m always free. Let me know what you’re craving that day and we’ll figure it out.”
“Sounds perfect. Hey, I have to run. Sly just walked through the door.” No sooner does she say that, do I hear a storm of kisses in the background mixing with Vinnie’s laughter, then her muffled voice says, “Sly! Stop! I’m on the phone.”
Their love is sickening in the best way possible. Rolling my eyes, I shake my head with a smile on my face. “Talk soon.”
“Bye!” she squeals before I hear theclickof the phone disconnecting.
Curling up on my bed, I pull Mickey-D closer and nuzzle into my pillows. I have several hours before I need to be at Luciano’s office, and I intend to catch up on some much-needed beauty sleep. My body feels like the plane I just deboarded has run straight into it.
Between my comfortable bedding and the body heat from the dog, it doesn’t take long before I’m fast asleep.
It’s four o’clock exactly when I get dropped off by my driver in front of Luciano’s office building. Holding my head high, I breeze through the automatic doors and immediately turn left to the elevators, pushing the call button. The firm is nestled in a skyscraper shared with several other prestigious businesses, and as I ride the elevator up to the twenty-first floor, I stand quietly next to a woman who looks incredibly nervous. I feel for her, but I just don’t have it in me to engage in small talk.
Watching as the floor numbers ascend, I patiently wait, trying not to tap my foot with anxiousness until it’s my turn to get off. Glancing at my watch, a smile pulls on my lips when I see I’m now five minutes late.
Luciano is going to be pissed.
As soon as the elevator doors open, my eyes connect with a very irritated pair of blue-grays from across the room. Luciano leans against the doorway of his office, arms folded in front of his body. His white button-down is crisp, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his gray slacks are fitted just right.
The sight of him practically makes me salivate. He looks incredibly handsome, and not at all like someone who just flew from Spain overnight.
“You’re late, Ms. Lancaster,” he grumbles, pushing off the doorframe.
From behind her desk, his secretary types away at her computer, sneaking glances at the two of us while she pretends not to listen.
“In my defense”—I saunter toward him, closing the distance as my heels click against the tile floor—“I was here on time. It’s not my fault the elevators in this building are slow.”
Luciano gestures me into his office, and I walk past him, heading straight to his chair. Pushing it back, I leave a space between it and the desk and sink onto the soft leather cushion, crossing my legs.
My dress rides up my thighs, but I don’t bother tugging it down.
From over my shoulder, I see Luciano closing his office door, then he turns to stalk toward me. “What did I tell you about being late?” There’s a heaviness in his stare that makes me want to squirm under his gaze, but I refuse to move a muscle, knowing he’s studying my every move.
“What are you gonna do about it, Luciano?” I play with a strand of my hair, feigning innocence.
