Chapter 16
“Oh right.” She winces. “You can’t drink cocktails. Eish, this is boring already. Shopping then.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I’d love to come and besides, I don’t want you going alone.” She takes my hand in hers. “We’ve got this and if Gabriel Ferrara doesn’t want his baby then screw him. We do…and we will love this little baby so fucking hard.”
I smile through tears and give a weak nod. “Yep.”
She continues driving. “When are you going to tell your parents?”
“Can we just concentrate on telling the father first?” I hold my temples.
“This is all too much.”
“Right.” Deb nods, she glances over at me casually. “Because your mom is going to freak out, you
know that, don’t you?”
“Not. Helping.”
One week later.
The traffic whizzes by as we sit on the park bench, our eyes firmly fixed on the front doors of
Ferrara Media.
“Okay, so let’s run through this again,” Deb says.
I glance at my watch. “He’s going to be walking out to have lunch with his brothers at any moment, and I’m waiting until he comes into view and
I’m calling him.”
“Why don’t you just call him now?”
“Because I want to see his face when he sees it’s me calling, I want to know what to expect when I go
to see him.”
“Okay.”
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We wait, and we wait…and we wait.
“What if he isn’t having lunch today?” she asks.
I shrug.
“What if he isn’t even in town…the country.”
“He’s in the country.”
“How do you know?”
“His jet is at JFK.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I do,” I snap in frustration. “You are forgetting that I spied on this man for most of my adult life, I know where his fucking jet is.”
“Right.”
We sit some more and then I see Mark get out of his car and loiter around the front door. “Gabriel’s coming out now.”
“How do you know?”
“That guy in the black suit by the door is Mark, his driver.”
“Why would his driver be going to lunch with him?”
“He’s his bodyguard.”
She screws up her face. “He has a bodyguard?”
“Of course he has a bodyguard, he’s a rich bastard who pisses off a lot of people.”
We watch Mark as he stands by the door.
“Hmm.” Debbie smiles as she looks him up and down. “That Mark is a bit of alright, isn’t he?”
“He used to be in the army or something.” I shrug. “I don’t know, something manly and tough.”
“Mmmm.”
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“He and Gabriel fight like cats and dogs but I know that Gabriel must like him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he bought him a Corvette for his birthday last year.”
“What?” she gasps. “How do you know?”
“Because I organized the registration on it.”
Deb screws up her face in disgust. “Are you fucking kidding me, you sucked his dick and all you got was a stupid bracelet, where’s your fucking Corvette?”
“It’s diamonds.” I widen my eyes; she doesn’t get it at all. “It was about the sentiment.”
“Big shit.” Deb drinks the last of her thick shake through the straw and it makes a loud sucking sound. “Fuck him and his stingy sentiment. Give us a Corvette next time, asshole. Actually, make it a
Porsche.”
I exhale heavily, ugh…bringing Deb here could have been a big mistake. She already hates Gabriel with a passion.
The doors of the building open and Alessio comes into view and then Ricardo, and walking behind them is Gabriel.
“Who are they?” Deb asks.
“The two tall guys in front are his brothers Alessio and Ricardo.”
“Hmm.” Deb wiggles her eyebrows. “I don’t mind a bit of Italian suit porn.”
“Ricardo lives in London,” I reply as my eyes linger on one person only, Gabriel.
Towering above everyone, he’s wearing a dark blue suit and a white shirt, his dark hair has a curl to it and damn it, my heart is still on the bottom of his shoe. Seeing him for the first time in two months brings with it a wave of emotion, and I immediately tear up.
I miss him, lord how I miss him. “Is that him at the back?” I nod through tears.
His back is ramrod straight, and the way he walks is just so…male. He’s talking to Alessio, and Mark falls in to walk in front of them with Ricardo, the other brother.
How could three brothers all be so genetically blessed?
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“Do it.”
“What?” My daydream is interrupted.
“Call him.”
“Oh shit, I forgot I was supposed to be doing that.”
With shaky fingers I dial his number and I hang on the line as I watch. He digs his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump goes my heart.
Here it is, the moment of truth….
He looks at the screen and without answering the call puts his phone back into his pocket.
The caustic truth hits me hard in the face.
My vision blurs with tears.
“He’s such a fucking prick,” Debbie mutters under her breath.
I sit and stare into space, my heartbeat hammering in my ears.
And now I know.
Violet
“MAYBE HE’LL CALL BACK when he’s alone, I mean…he couldn’t really talk when he was with people, could he?” Deb says as her eyes stay glued on the group of men as they disappear around the
corner.
I nod, but I know that’s not true.
Gabriel doesn’t conform for anyone, if he wanted to talk to me then, he would have.
I slump back into my chair, shocked but not surprised.
(
“This would have been such a great opportunity to get rolling drunk right about now.” Deb sighs, she
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points to my stomach. “Hope the baby’s having fun in there…drinking all the drinks he wants to
drink.”
“It might be a girl.” I look over at her and smirk. I stand, feeling somewhat relieved that calling him
is over. “Come on then.”
“Where are we going?”
“To get you a cocktail.”
“We are?” Her eyes widen with excitement. “But you can’t have one.”
I link my arm with hers. “I get the feeling that you are going to drink enough for the two of us.” “The three of us.” The three of us.
“Yeah, the three of us.” I smile. “I kind of like the sound of that.”
“And something unexpected happened in the streets of New York today, a giant drone landed in
Central Park.”
The late–night news is playing in the background. I glance over to see Debbie fast asleep on the couch, I glance at my watch.
12:05 a.m.
I exhale heavily and look at the screen on my phone.
No missed calls
He didn’t call, and I don’t know why I was expecting him to, but I honestly thought he would.
I’m beginning to wonder if coming here and wanting to tell him is a monumental mistake. He doesn’t want me, so he definitely won’t want to have a baby together.
I really thought we had something.
The harsh reality is that it was only me that had something. The feelings were one–sided.
And I really have to ask myself that what good is the fantasy of him falling in love with me if I always know in the back of my mind that it was only because he was trapped into it?
Sure, a baby will change things.
(
We may work through this and end up okay, but deep down I will always know that this isn’t what
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he really wanted. That this was a forced union.
I know how strong–willed he is. Nobody tells him what to do, and for me to tell him I’m having a baby with or without his permission is likely to send him into powerhouse overdrive. I think back to how badly he behaved when I resigned, and that was a tiny drop in the ocean compared to this. It’s going to go one of two ways, either he accepts it and welcomes it with open arms or he’s going to get
nasty.
What if he took me to court for custody?
My hand splays protectively over my stomach. If he did decide to fight me, I couldn’t afford the legal
fees that he could.
He would win.
An Italian child is all he’s ever wanted, what if he then took the baby and the two of them lived in Italy somewhere?
He wouldn’t do that to me.
Would he?
I honestly have no idea anymore. He’s fiery and impossible and an arrogant prick, but I thought that was just the outer shell and that he had a soft spot for me.
But maybe not.
Maybe that’s the real him and maybe, actually…probably, I’m just a lovesick fool who was wearing rose–colored glasses the entire time I knew him.
I stand and point the remote to the television to turn it off. I pull a blanket over my too–many–cocktailed friend and kiss her forehead.
“Good night, drunk girl,” I whisper.
“Hmm,” she mumbles before rolling over in a dead sleep.
I brush my teeth, get into bed and stare at the ceiling.
More thinking, more overanalyzing and damn it, more beating myself up.
I know what I have to do, I don’t have a choice. This isn’t my decision; I have to tell him.
Tomorrow, I will.
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I take one last look at myself in the mirror, I’m wearing a black pencil skirt and a linen shirt casually tied in the front. I’m trying to be casually irresistible, so that when he sees me he will fall to his knees and beg for my forgiveness.
I’m not as nervous as yesterday and get a feeling everything is going to turn out. Maybe not as I first thought, but I know I’ll be okay whatever happens.
“Do you want me to come?”
“Nope.” I pick up my handbag and jacket, “I’m fine, you go shopping and
I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“I can wait outside, I don’t mind.”
“I’m fine, and don’t ask me why, but I’m quietly optimistic.”
Deb forces a crooked smile. “Call me the minute you’re done.” She hugs me.
“Yep.” I walk out the hotel room door and into the corridor, excited to get this over with.
Let’s do this.
The cab pulls into the curb and I peer out the window at the huge glass fortress and read the sign.
FERRARA
Butterflies swirl in my stomach, not feeling quite so brave now. I hand the money over to the cab driver. “Thank you.” “You have a nice day now, dear.” He smiles.
“You too.”
I
square my shoulders and without hesitation I march through the huge glass doors, and once inside my step falters. New reception staff are near the security scanners. I look around in a panic, I don’t know these people and I don’t have any of my security badges to get into the building anymore.
Where’s Liana and Margery and Tom?
Fuck.
My heart begins to thump as I approach the desk.
“Hello.” The girl smiles. “Can I help you?”
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“Yes…” I pause as I try to think on my feet. “I’m here to see Gabriel
Ferrara.”
“Did you have an appointment?”
