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When he sits up, I can’t look at him. Jesus, I never hold myself back in these kinds of situations. Though this is impossible, the realization of how much I want it rattles through my bones, shaking me with regret and ever larger, unsated want.
“Why did you move? You seem to love it here.” His voice is gruff, with a frustrated edge to it. Or maybe I’m mirroring my own feelings. At least he’s diverting the attention from the moment we’ve just had. Because we definitely had a moment.
“It was the only way to escape an unhealthy relationship.” The words are out, true and uncensored, before I can stop myself. Jesus, he doesn’t need to hear that pathetic story.
“Do you miss it?” He picks a stalk of grass and rubs it between his fingers. It’s a mindless move, but something about it makes me smile. A moment in time, away from his busy schedule and my problematic situation, filled with innocent simplicity.
“My family is in New York.” I give him a vague answer. All I’m willing to offer now.
The next words from his mouth break me into shards. “I hope he knows what he lost.”
Chapter9
Gio
“Okay, Marnie, I trust your judgment on this. Offer Portia the job and start listening to your doctor’s advice to take it easy.” I fix my tie and adjust my collar.
The sun, not yet fully awake, creeps through the window, casting cones of lights across my hotel room.
“Thank you. The events exceeded our expectations and we’re seeing an increase in revenue just from the publicity alone. Are you leaving soon?”
“I have a vineyard to look at in Napa Valley and then I’m back in New York. Have a nice weekend.” I’m about to click on the screen to disconnect the call, but Marnie is not done.
“Gio, before you go, I want to apologize for fighting you on the new hire. I didn’t like you meddling in my affairs, but Mila hit the ground running and delivered above my expectations. Where did you even find her?”
I adjust my cufflinks. “Believe it or not, at my brother’s restaurant. She handles his social media.” I set my luggage by the door.
“I know it was me who insisted on a six-week contract, but I would like to extend an offer to her. Hopefully she can let go of her other clients.”
I tense. Mila deserves this job, and apparently needs it even more. Fuck, I promised her the opportunity myself.
“Let’s wait and see how the rest of the events go. Move on Portia’s promotion to take your position in interim and then she can chime in on hiring Ms. Ward.”
I’m a selfish bastard. How can I tell Marnie that I don’t want to hire Mila because I fucking want to ask her out? It’s not fair to the team, or to Mila. For fuck’s sake. I thought I was a better man, but spending time with her, watching her work, smile, eat, talk to others—talk tome—making me do shit like the beach walk in Santa Barbara, has changed everything.
“Okay, Gio, you’re right. I need to allow Portia to make these decisions.” Marnie interprets my suggestion in a completely reasonable yet very wrong way, but I won’t fight her on that. Her version is more noble.
We disconnect the call and I stare out the window. I should have had Mila book a commercial flight home, but I didn’t. I also didn’t tell her we’re going to Napa. It will be a surprise detour.
I want to spend more time with her. Even though I can’t touch her, these moments we share are the most normal I’ve had in years.
She’s a breath of fresh air. I thought she hated me, but that heated moment in the park and how flustered she was afterward—a blush coloring her beautiful, soft skin—confirmed she might be as interested as I am in exploring this further.
I need to tread carefully. Fuck, when she mentioned Tully suspecting something in San Francisco, I almost lost it. What is it with fucking people making up shit to get a piece of me? Though in this case, Tully was just fucking observant, seeing things the two of us didn’t yet recognize.
I hate that I can’t just ask her out like a normal person. The irony doesn’t escape me—I have experienced more normal with her in a short week than I have in years.
While she works for me, we can’t discuss the growing attraction. I need to find her another job. An idea sparks and I grab my phone.
“Hey, asshole, have you seen it yet?” Conrad pants on the other side. The pounding and squeaking of the belt suggests he’s at the gym.
“No, I’m flying there today. I thought running was for girls.”
“Are you calling to spoil my mood?” He swallows, probably chugging down his electrolytes.
I chuckle. “Could you ask around and find me a social media/event planning company to buy?” I stand up and walk to the window.
He scoffs. “What would you need that for? Don’t you have in-house people to do those jobs? It’s not the type of company you could turn around for a reasonable return.”
