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“In Manhattan. She works for Monogram Publishing.”
“Does she?” I ask, like I don’t already know that and like my family doesn’t own Monogram Publishing. It was my Aunt Fawn’s passion project, but we definitely use it to launder money.
“Been there almost two years now.”
“And what do you do?” I ask.
“I’m an English teacher. Hence the need for all the caffeine to grade abysmal homework,” she says, giggling. Good God. She’s going to be the death of me. “I’m Courtnee Beaufort, by the way.” She extends her hand to me. Fuck. Touching her would be a mistake, but it’d be rude not to shake her hand.
“Nunzio Vitali, but everyone calls me Zio.”
“Vitali? Where have I heard that name before?” she wonders aloud.
“Italy?” I say. Her eyes pop up to mine, and I chuckle at the look of surprise on her face. She giggles.
“That must be it. I get to Italy so very frequently,” she says.
“Do you?”
“No. I’ve never been anywhere, really. Just family vacations to theme parks.”
“I see.”
“What about you?”
“I travel a lot for work. It takes me around the world,” I say, truthfully.
“Oh. Sounds exciting. What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m in the collections business.”
“As in money or rare artifacts?”
She’s smart. I find that I like her even more than I did before. She pulls out a pair of thick rimmed black glasses and puts them on. She bites her full bottom lip and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more than I do right now. Not that I’ve done much kissing. My uncle told me that one day I’d meet a woman unlike any other. That I’d know instantly that she was mine and mine alone. I took that to heart. I didn’t sow wild oats with women who I knew weren’t the one. That woman is sitting in front of me, tempting me more than she’ll ever know. More than she could ever understand.
“Money,” I answer, hedging the truth. She’s a good girl and I don’t want her to hate me before we even get started.
“Ah,” she says. “I swear I’ve heard your name before. Do we know each other somehow? College maybe?” I can tell she’s trying hard to place the name. I’m sure she’s heard it on the news, or some online article, maybe even social media, but I don’t want her to get there. Not until she’s so fucking in love with me she doesn’t know where she ends, and I begin.
“It’s just one of those names. It’s like Smith or Jones. Everyone has it,” I lie, hating myself for it.
“Oh, okay. Are you in town on business or pleasure?”
“It started out as business, but it turned into pleasure,” I say, and watch her face fall. She’s hooked. I just have to reel her in and make her mine, but I have plans for that.
“Oh, well, it was so nice to meet you, but I should probably be going,” she says, grabbing her cup and her bag, leaving the table.
“I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” I say, standing.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she says and then she’s gone.
I do know about that. In four short days, we’ll be locked away in a remote cabin, just the two of us. I’ve made sure of it.
CHAPTER2
COURTNEE
Sitting in first class because our seats were upgraded at the airport is a nice surprise. It’s a great way to start off the trip. The ice-cold champagne is delicious. The flight from Charleston to Burlington goes smoothly. I used the time to Google that guy from Starbucks. I knew I had heard his name before. Nunzio Vitali, alleged hit man for the Vitali Crime Family in New York. Didn’t he say he was from New York? Suspect in three murders, but never charged as there wasn’t enough evidence. I spent the whole flight checking out his Facebook page and the articles where he was suspected and cleared of crimes ranging from misdemeanors like running a brothel to more serious crime like assault and murder. No cases were ever filed. Why is that so fucking hot?
