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I see the face I’m making in the bathroom mirror; it’s one of confusion.What time?I respond to him.
Whenever ,he says.I’ll send my helicopter.
I lose feeling in my legs and crash to the floor. Giggles immediately pour from me and I can’t believe what is happening. I laugh until I feel light headed.What a choice!A meeting with my father, where I’ll be spoken down to and told I can’t dream about the life I want. Or a man who wants me to beme, and is sending a helicopter to pick me up!
I text Mimi immediately and she responds to send her a picture of all my swimsuits. I frown, and ask her,Why?
Just do it!She responds.You CANNOT go on a yacht looking like a prude.
I laugh and head back to my room. I take them all out and lay them on my bed and snap a photo. I send it to Mimi.
Girl, wear your most revealing bikini!She says.There is a time in every girl’s life where she must channel her inner slut.
I can’t help but laugh out loud at her joke. I feel giddy. I feel like I’m some girl in a romance movie or book, not the daughter of a Don.
And today,Mimi continues,you need to channel the slut! You’re going on a yacht with countless other women (let’s assume models).
I swallow. I hadn’t thought of that. Suddenly fear drops into my belly and I feel silly. How would I match them?
Mimi texts.Go with the orange bikini. With the tie strings on the side and besides. The orange offsets your tan well. You’ll look fucking hot. If he doesn’t want to take your v-card wearing that, I will.
I burst out laughing and pick it up. I hold it over my body and look in the mirror. I’ve never worn this bikini. Mimi bought it for me last year, begging me to wear it with her to a pool party where she wanted to impress this guy she wanted to hook up with. But I chickened out. Was I going to chicken out now?
Are you sure?I text.
Honey, when I wore that, Brad tore it off with his teeth …is all Mimi writes.
I think of Luca taking the bikini off me with his teeth. My heart flutters and my belly turns warm at the thought.
I return to the chat with Luca.I’ll get there as soon as possible!
My heart skips a beat and I feel exactly the same as last night. Spontaneous, joyous,alive…
That is, until I realize I’ve got to sneak off the grounds of our mansion and avoid my father.
Chapter 6
Luca
Shestepsoutofthe helicopter and I feel like such an idiot. I’ve spent the morning brooding and being a grumpy asshole to most of the crew and models, despite Marco having organized the best trip yet. I’ve been sitting at the bar, my hands clawed to my phone waiting for her every message, even when I knew she was on the helicopter and on her way. I’d already wasted most of the three hour boat trip to the Keys by screaming at a waiter for dropping the crab salad and dip. All while Marco sat there snorting coke with models and sporting a blatant erect penis. Now, he is nowhere to be seen.
I almost laugh out loud at the thought now, but I stop myself.
Sophie is closing the helicopter door and coming towards me. She’s wearing a light summer dress tied up behind the neck. The wind of the blades pushes the fabric against her body and sends her hair out in a fan. I see every inch of her. I suppress a groan. Her curves are just as I remembered, even better now in the sunlight. Her skin is radiant and she looks as if she should be floating, not walking. But even then, in her tanned sandals on my timber yacht floor, she may as well be.
We smile at one another and my heart is humming. I try to remind myself I’m the heir to the Colombino Mafia Family, not a boy going on his first date. I feel just like a boy though, there's no other way to describe it. I’m a thirty-eight year old man with the reins of a mafia empire in his reach, and a woman has done this to me.
No, agoddess…
“Hi,” she says, leaning in for a hug.
“Hey,” I say, hugging her back and kissing her cheek. She lingers ever so slightly. I take her by the hand down from the pad and we head to the pool area where everyone is splashing and tanning. Waiters stand with drinks and trays of food. My brain is blank, what the hell do I talk about?
But she’s looking around in awe. “So, you own a yacht?”
I laugh. “Yes. Yes, I do.” I place my hand on the small of her back and begin guiding her towards the bar. “Thirsty?”
“No, not yet,” she says. “How about a tour?” She’s looking around at all the other women with an odd look in her eyes. Surely she can’t be insecure? Look at her! None of the women even compare.
