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“Tomas, I want you to find out everything you can about Miss Sofia Aurora Romano. God, that name just rolls off the tongue so beautifully, doesn’t it? I simply must add her to my collection of the finest things in the world, Tomas.” He clapped Tomas on the shoulder.
“What things do you wish to know about her, sir?”
His stoic expression was strained. That was good; it just meant he was human after all.
“Everything. Her address, her phone number, her tag number, everything, Tomas! I must make her mine.” He looked in the direction her car had gone moments earlier.
Clearing his throat and looking at the ground momentarily, Tomas said, “Sir, I don’t think you can add people to your collection of finest things in the world.”
Laughing, Paolo said, “Don’t be ridiculous, Tomas! Of course, I can. Haven’t you met Master Chef? This is no different, except she would be on my arm and in my bed.”
He laughed and walked away, leaving Tomas to his own thoughts on the matter. That was the silliest thing he’d ever heard. Money could buy anything and anybody—he had learned that lesson rather well over the last three years.
***
That evening when the opera was over a
nd the guests had gone, Paolo retired to his library office on the second floor. It was his favorite room in the house when he was alone. There was liquor and wine, fresh fruit and cheeses always set out for him, and he could make or receive calls, read a book—which he didn’t do often anymore, or just relax as he sat on the veranda and looked out over his lush property.
At the opera, he’d seen one of his occasional girlfriends; she was beautiful and the things she could do in the bedroom were unmatched in all of Italy. He would know, too, he’d had women all over the country and quite a few from other countries.
Every time he flipped to her phone number in his little book, something made him put the phone back in its cradle, though. Confused, he poured more wine and sat in the semi-darkness, listening to the wind rustle through the Tuscan countryside. It was a peaceful scenario, but he was anything but peaceful. Sofia weighed on his mind heavily. Too heavily for his liking. He wanted her and he was determined to have her, no matter the cost.
Tomas entered the room and handed Paolo a sheet of paper with typewriter-neat handwriting filling its lines to the margins.
“It’s the information you requested about Miss Romano, sir.”
Tomas’ expression was tight and looked even more forced than it had earlier. Paolo grinned at the servant.
“Good man, Tomas. Thank you for your quick and diligent work. I see a little bonus for you in the near future.” He waved Tomas off and flipped on a reading lamp beside his chair.
As he read the particulars about his Miss Perfection, he was shocked. It seemed that she worked as a waitress and cared for her ailing mother in a tiny apartment only a few miles away from Paolo’s lavish mansion. Miss Romano was a poor girl; had been raised poor and was now even less fortunate as her mother was unable to work. All the expenses fell to Sofia to deal with in whatever way she could.
At first, Paolo tossed down the paper and huffed in disbelief. No woman so beautiful and perfect could be poor and working as a waitress.
Then, as the realization that she was the daughter of his mother’s servant, he became angry. Sofia had called her mother a personal assistant, not a handmaid. Paolo’s mother never actually had a personal assistant; his father had taken care of the business, so she had no need of an assistant; only the need for a maid.
He brewed about it, bouncing between anger and lust, as the night ran on toward dawn, heedless of his conundrum. He couldn’t be seen with a poor woman at his side. His friends would never tire of making him the butt of their jokes, if he did that. He couldn’t be seen in her part of town, at an apartment building—what would all his friends think of him? They’d smear his reputation, is exactly what would happen.
Paolo couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t settle for someone who was lowly and poor and struggling.
He dialed his occasional girlfriend’s number. “Maria, are you free tonight? I need your special attention.”
Her giggle answered him all he needed to know. She’d be there and when she was finished, she would be standing there waiting for him to toss some money, or some special thing her way, which he always did without fail.
“I can be there in an hour, sexy.” She hung up.
Looking at the phone as if it might bite him, Paolo hung up and instantly wished he hadn’t called her. Though she was always eager, almost over-eager, to please him in any way in the bedroom.
He showered and awaited Maria’s arrival, trying to push thoughts of Sofia from his mind. At least Maria had some standing as a very wealthy woman who would one day inherit all of her father’s money—and that was a lot. What did Sofia have to offer him? A wild tongue and no respect? He let that thought linger until it made him angry and then he threw himself into thoughts of Maria and what she would do for him when she arrived.
Chapter 4
Ignored Invitations
Sofia had gone to collect the mail and saw that another invitation to Paolo’s mansion was in it. Without opening it, she tossed it into the trash bin in her tiny kitchen. What her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt a thing. She didn’t want to be stuck going to another horrible dinner party where she stuck out like mud on a wedding dress. The remainder of the mail was, of course, bills that were either due now or were past due.
She had more pressing issues than another invitation to go to that pompous man’s house for any reason. Like how to pay bills and buy food. Though it wasn’t exactly fair, life had dealt her this hand and she had to figure out how to play it to her advantage.
