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“Yes.”
“The show must go on. Right?”
“Don’t feel sorry for yourself, Alessandro. You did this. I’ll see you at two.”
He hung up, shaking his head with a laugh at Yasmin’s bluntness. He deserved it.
He needed a drink before going upstairs to shower. And maybe now he’d sleep for an hour before he had to leave.
He got out a glass and went to the refrigerator to fill it. But the ice shot out of the dispenser so fast, a couple of cubes fell on the floor. When he looked under the kitchen island to pick them up, he found a piece of paper. Pulling it out, he saw it was a phone number on an airport convenience store receipt.
An international phone number.
He straightened and stared at it, his fingers tapping the counter behind him. Even that tiny sound echoed through his empty house.
“Fuck it,” he said to no one and dialed the number.
“Pronto,” the voice on the other end answered.
“It’s Alessandro,” he said in Italian. “I’m ready to listen. And this time, I will listen better.”
♦
Chapter 26
He was really beginning to like that word,fuck. It covered so many emotions. All he wanted to say, as he showered and dressed, grabbed a to-go cup of coffee and a banana, and got in the back of Max’s car, wasfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
Could he rebuild a relationship with his brothers? They sounded like different people, once he’d calmed down enough to listen. Was he the same as he’d been as a teenager? Of course not. So was it possible that they’d genuinely changed?
Megan would say it was.
He would tell her tomorrow. When he’d finished with this damn fitting and faced the music—that was the phrase she’d taught him—with her siblings. He didn’t believe he could walk this back, but at least now he believed he should try.
The value of the tux he was wearing to the Oscars was so high, a representative from Federica’s had to accompany it everywhere. So when he walked into Yasmin’s offices and got past the receptionist, he went directly to the conference room slash studio that was set up for these fittings.
Jacqui saw him, gulped, and scurried out of sight. He hoped she’d bring more coffee, whatever she thought of him. Opening the door to the conference room, he found Yasmin, Donna, his stylist, the designer’s rep, and a tailor. Yasmin introduced everyone, gave him a giant stink eye, and left. Donna handed him a sheaf of questions he needed to have answers for the next day, including where Megan was—a made-up answer—and then she was gone as well. At least she gave his arm a sympathetic pat before she left.
Since the people from Federica’s knew nothing, of course, he was able to be somewhat normal, following their instructions, raising and lowering his arms when requested, and discussing shoes. Easy. Could do it in his sleep.
Only he hadn’t slept.
Next, a jeweler arrived. The tux didn’t make room for much of it, but Alessandro had chosen a starburst ear wrap in sapphires that fought with his eyes, and a two-finger ring for his left hand. Because Megan would have been on his right side, of course, and his arm would have been around her. Embracing her waist. Resting on her hip. Anticipating the end of the night.
The jeweler’s rep was serious to the point of rudeness. Which suited Alessandro’s mood just fine. He let his helpful smile relax into the moody, standoffish character who’d glared back at him from photographs for years.
Megan had made him smile. That was all. She’d made him smile.
After more than an hour of this emotional torture, he was released. The tux was carefully put away with a promise to deliver it to his house on Oscar day, and the jewelry was hidden in a velvet box with a hint thatifhe was pronounced worthy and the designer didn’t change their mind and the wind wasn’t blowing the wrong way, he would be permitted to put them on in the car on the way to the ceremony. His car would be followed by the jeweler’s, who had several pieces on the red carpet to worry about.
Alessandro tried to sound sincere in his thanks, but when they’d all gone, he stayed in the room, leaning his hands on the table at one end and letting his head slump.
The show must go on.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
Voices from outside reminded him that he couldn’t stay all day. He took his cup of coffee—which Jacqui had refilled with a pained smile he thought was trying to be neutral—and opened the heavy door to the room.
And ran into Megan.
