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37
Enzo
Iflag the waitress down while jotting notes about my latest prospect into my notebook. “Another.”
“You look like shit.” Carm runs the back of his hand down my beard. “Bonus points on that fucking beard though.”
“He’s in denial. Thinks changing his look will make him forget.” Dom piles a forkful of lobster mac and cheese into his mouth.
“If I don’t grab these clients quick, Jacobson will act faster, and they have a helluva lot more resources than I’m offering.” My phone dings with a voicemail, and I pick it up to listen.
“I think it’s great that you went out on your own, but you need to get your shit together,” Carm says.
I shake my head, telling him to be quiet. Blair from Coddle is more important than his whining. I’ve been fishing for Coddle to follow me, though I assumed they would pull their marketing in-house after Annie reached out to Blair. I’ve put out some feelers to see if she took the job, but since she apparently hasn’t contacted Blair since D-day, I asked for a meeting.
Shit. The message is just from the dry cleaners, letting me know the clothes I dropped off weeks ago are still there, waiting to be picked up. I hit End on the call.
“How many clients do you have now?” Dom asks, clearly only caring about me shoving it to Jacobson and Earl.
“Five, but if I can get Coddle, that’s huge.”
Carm slaps my back. “Way to distract yourself from the real problem at hand.”
“Let it go,” Dom says to Carm.
“What? He told her he loved her, and she walked out on him. How easy would it be for you to let it go?”
They’ve clearly been talking behind my back.
“We’re not chicks. We don’t talk feelings.” Carm pushes away his own plate, sipping his beer. “You’re Enzo Mancini, man. Come out with me, and I’ll help you forget all about Annie.”
Just hearing her name is enough to make me want to drown myself in another bottle of scotch. I don’t quite remember the first night after I told her I loved her, and she walked out on me.
My brothers can’t understand that I have to distract myself because her power is too strong. They don’t know how it feels to have sex with someone you care about. How being with the same person time and time again brings benefits one-night stands don’t.
Well, I guess Dom might get that, but something tells me a woman who throws your clothes at you the minute she comes is not a girl who wants to give you maximum pleasure with a blow job.
They don’t understand how lazy Sundays are the fucking best. And that after you leave work, there’s a pit of exhilaration in your stomach because you get to spend time with her. How waiting to hear what comes out of her mouth next, even if she razzes you, has you on pins and needles.
“Let’s just call a spade a spade. You’re lovesick. So take five minutes away from building your empire and deal with it,” Dom says.
“You’re crazy. Forget her. Though I did enjoy her. She plays a killer game of rock, paper, scissors.” Carm crosses his arms and stares across the table at me.
“There you go. Let’s play to see if you go after her.”
I throw my napkin at Dom. I’m drawing the line there.
“Seriously, talk to us. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dom asks.
Carm leans his arms on the table, apparently intrigued to hear my answer.
I shrug. I don’t really have anything to say. For the first time in my life, I have no idea what the fuck to do. “She’s mad and I don’t blame her.”
“Make her forgive you,” Carm says. “I’m charming. I’ll go with you. She won’t be able to turn you down.”
I shake my head at his stupidity. Definitely not in the mood today.
“If you want her back so much, win her over. You’re Enzo Mancini, for fuck’s sake. Pick yourself up and fight for her.” Carm’s voice rises, and the people beside us shift their attention our way.
