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“And the union–”
“Will be overseen by myself and Valentino. We will keep you in the loop, of course, but you need not be here.”
I press my lips together, trying to think of another excuse, but Romeo has me dead to rights. Anything I come up with, he’ll counter.
Nodding in defeat, I reluctantly and morosely agree to take the week off to see my father. Romeo dismisses me, and I step out of his office, pausing to lean against the wall outside.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. This is the last thing I want to deal with right now, or ever, for that matter.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone and start typing a text to the persistent and ever-bubbly Cambria. I’m in the middle of delivering the happy news of my arrival when I receive an incoming call from the woman herself.
I stare at the screen in shock, not sure what to do. She’s never called before, only texted or emailed. That’s my preferred method of communication, and she knows that. However, what little I know about Cambria tells me that she won’t stop at one phone call, so I answer it, bracing myself for what’s next.
“Mr. Santarossa?” comes the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard.
I pull the phone away from my ear and double-check that it’s the nurse calling. Indeed, it is Cambria Clayton.
“I know you don’t like phone calls, but I felt this was important and wanted to speak with you so the meaning doesn’t get lost over text.”
I blink a few times, trying to figure out why the hell I’m light-headed and tense at the sound of her voice. It does something to me. Something wholly unfamiliar and unsettling.
“I can hear you breathing, you know,” Cambria says. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. I have a feeling I have enough words for both of us.”
I snort at that but cover it up with a cough. This woman shouldn’t have the ability to make me laugh. Preposterous.
“I know, I know,” she continues. “I’m chatty and enthusiastic about pretty much everything, which isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But that’s not the point.”
I grunt at the idea of someone not liking Cambria and then berate myself for giving a fuck. I don’t. I can’t.
“The point is, your father might not ever say this, but he misses you. In his own way.”
This pulls a dark laugh from the pit of my black soul. “The only thing that man misses is having a handle of whiskey permanently attached to his right hand.”
“He speaks!” Cambria exclaims. I’d yell at her for disrespecting me, but she’s so genuine in her excitement that I don’t have it in me to bring her down a peg. Which isn’t like me. Not at all.
“You’ll be pleased to know I will be in Chicago this week. I’ll catch the first flight out in the morning.”
“You are correct,” Cambria answers, her voice in a lower pitch, presumably in an attempt to match mine. “I amverypleased.”
What other ways could I pleasure you?
Jesus fuck, where did that come from? Not only is it inappropriate, but I can’t remember the last time someone elicited that kind of response from me. I can honestly say I’ve never reacted to anyone like this, let alone someone I haven’t even officially met.
“Good,” I manage to choke out. “I’ll be there mid-morning tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Santarossa! You won’t regret–”
I hang up before she can finish that sentence. Her melodic voice and boisterous laughter are messing with my head. Besides, she’s wrong. I’m sure I’ll have nothing but regret after visiting my father, but I view this as another mission from Romeo. He told me to deal with my dad and return ready to fight.
That’s precisely what I’m going to do. Nothing more.
CHAPTERTWO
CAMBRIA
“All right, Mr. S, it’s about time to get ready for bed,” I tell my client, Raul Santarossa.
He narrows his eyes at me. “One more game.” His voice is gravelly, worn by decades of drinking and smoking, from what I’ve gathered.
