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“Cheat on you?”
We made love three, four times a day. Not even an Italian had the kind of stamina, right?
“Not that I know of.”
“Did he try to swindle money from you?”
“No?”
“He’s gay.”
I jolted upright. “Not in a million years.”
“So what horrendous betrayal did this wonderful, gorgeous, passionate vintner enact upon you?”
“He demanded that I move to Rome with him.”
Talley’s brows dipped in puzzlement.
“Back up.”
I threw myself back against the sofa, face tilted toward the ceiling.
“He overheard our conversation, so I showed him my Insta account. He loved the images, said I had a natural eye. The next thing I know, he insisted I become the director of marketing for his wine export company in Rome. ‘Coworkers by day. Lovers by night.’ Those are his exact words.”
Elbow on knee, fingers pressed to her mouth, Talley eyed me like I was a specimen in science glass.
“Your hot Italian lover offers you a job and invites you to move into his flat in Rome,” she drawled.
“Yes.” I sighed wearily. “Exactly.”
“Elle Madden, you are either the luckiest woman I know…or the dumbest.” She tossed back the rest of her wine.
The sound of the front door slamming, probably her younger sister Sydney returning home from work, interrupted our conversation. The low burble of voices indicated she wasn’t alone.
“You don’t understand,” I hissed, folding my arms tight across my chest, hoping we had been overheard.
“She’s not alone in her confusion,cara. I, too, do not understand.” Alessio stood in the doorway between the living room and foyer, clothes wrinkled, jaw darkened with stubble.
“Holy shit.” Talley’s gaze bounced between us. “That’s Luigi?”
“I am Alessio Venturi.” He crossed the room and extended his hand to my bestie. “You were expecting someone else?”
“I certainly wasn’t expecting you.” Talley’s slow perusal poked a certain green monster I didn’t know resided inside me.
Sydney hung in the doorway, uncertain. “He was just about to knock, said he was looking for Elle.”
“It’s fine.” I lied. I felt trapped. Confused. Aroused.
Alessio dropped to the floor next to Talley and grabbed the empty wineglass. The one intended for me. He refilled her glass first and then poured the rest of the bottle into his.
“She won’t drink it,” Talley said, as if she and Alessio were old pals.
“She’s spoiled for this swill.” He swirled the wine, inhaled, and took a small sip. “Next time spend the extra twenty dollars.”
“Why are you here?” I curled deeper into the sofa, hoping I sounded indifferent.
“It is where you are.” He shrugged and drank more bad wine.
