Chapter 17
“Yes,” I lie. “But you will have to call him direct, as it was made in his personal calendar and not with his PA.*
“Oh.” She frowns and glances to her fellow worker. “That’s not how…” “Tell him Violet Coleman is
here to see him,” I cut her off.
“I’m sorry.”
“Call him,” I snap, I begin to feel my pulse as adrenaline surges through me. “Tell him Violet Coleman is here to see him,” I repeat.
She exchanges glances with the girl sitting next to her. “Okay.” She picks up the phone and dials a
number.
As I wait, I bite my bottom lip so hard that I think I taste blood.
“Yes, hello, Mr. Ferrara. This is Violet from reception.” She listens for a moment. “I have a Violet Coleman here; she says she has an appointment to see you today.” Her eyes flick up to me as she
listens.
I hold my breath as I listen.
“Yes, sir.” She nods. “Thank you.” She puts the phone down.
I stare at her as I wait.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ferrara is booked out back–to–back today. He can’t see you. He sends his apologies.”
Oh…
The ground moves beneath me as my every fear comes to fruition.
My nostrils flare as I try to hold it together. “He said that?”
She nods, and it’s obvious that she knows this visit was of a personal nature. “Let me look through his calendar and I’ll try to find you another appointment.” She brings up the computer and glances over to her co–worker. “Umm, unfortunately, he doesn’t have an opening until August.” She winces as if she cares. “I’m sorry.”
I nod and step back from the desk. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.
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Not as sorry as he’s going to be.
Thanks.” For nothing.
I turn, and with my heart breaking in my chest, I march toward the front doors, the stupid tears
building like a tidal wave.
And now I know, that’s it. It’s really over forever, he doesn’t want to see me.
There goes my happy ending.
I push through the glass doors and into the cold New York air. My heart is hurting.
Did that really just happen?
Oh my god, oh my god.
Oh my fucking god.
I look up and down the street, I need to get out of here. A barrage of familiar feelings comes flooding
back and I suddenly remember why I chose to leave.
I need to get as far away from this man as quickly as I can.
This man, this place, is toxic.
I need to go home.
I march out to the street and put my arm up for a cab, one instantly pulls up and I dive into the back
seat.
The driver takes one look at my face. “Are you okay, miss?”
I can’t act tough any longer, and I screw up my face in tears, the lump in my throat hurts as I try to
hold it together. “Not really.” I wipe my eyes in a dramatic fashion. “But I will be.”
No matter what the conditions, this baby will never be enough for him. He will always despise the
fact that it isn’t Italian, that he didn’t choose to have it.
Imagine growing up knowing that your own father hates you.
I screw up my face in tears.
The car weaves in and out of the New York traffic and I put my hand over my stomach and make a
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Vow.
I failed to protect myself from him, but I will always protect you.
I cry as I take my diamond bracelet off. I will never put this back on again. It’s physically hard to
&
take off because I can’t see through my tears.
This was my most prized possession and now he’s ruined it forever.
This is the last pain he will ever cause.
He will never get the chance to hurt my baby like he has me.
That’s it, I’m done.
Gabriel
“And you’ll see on page fourteen of the proposal.” I point to the graph on the whiteboard with a pen.
The fifteen people sitting around the board table all flick to page fourteen.
“As you can see, the trend is emerging as…”
The intercom buzzes. “Mr. Ferrara.”
I exhale heavily. “Yes,” I snap, annoyed, why is she interrupting me?
“Yes, hello Mr. Ferrara. This is Violet from reception.”
“Yes, Violet, what is it?”
“I have a Violet Coleman here; she says she has an appointment to see you today.”
What?
“Ahhh…” I look around the room as thirty eyes watch me. “I see…” Umm… I take the lid off the pen in
my hand as I think.
Shit.
I can’t stop this meeting midway through, people have flown in internationally to attend. I’ve got people with me all day and then a function straight from work tonight with my family.
{
Fuck…
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Chapter 17
“I’m booked back–to–back today, Violet; can you reschedule her to come back? Tomorrow, perhaps?”
“Yes, sir,” she replies.
“Send my apologies,”
“Thank you.”
I scratch my head in frustration, damn it.
I want to see her.
With all eyes on me, I try to bring my mind back to the meeting.
She’s here.
“So….these…” I pause as I try to collect my thoughts, “…trends.” She’s here.
I refocus my thoughts and carry on with the meeting as I try my hardest to keep a straight face.
She came back.
Tomorrow I get to see her.
The round dinner table is filled with family members. It’s my brother Alessio’s birthday.
The table chatters on in Italian as my mind wanders off on a tangent.
I’ve been with a lot of women, many most, actually, don’t speak Italian and it’s never mattered before because I knew it wasn’t going anywhere. Their ancestry didn’t matter to me.
But if I were ever to want something more with a woman who didn’t, how would that look?
Tonight, for example…
Would Violet be sitting there, not understanding anything that anyone is saying, would I have to
translate or would she just refuse to come at all?
I mean, sure, anyone can learn Italian, but that doesn’t change who you are at the core.
My future dreams depend on having a family that’s filled with generational traditions, trips to Italy with my siblings and their children and the cousins growing up together and playing the games that
we did as children.
A closeness and familiarity.
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I envision my life in an American household and how different it would be from the one I have always known and wanted for myself.
If I chose that life, I know for certain that my wife and children would always be on the outside.
They would never truly be accepted by their extended family.
Dream girl or dream life.
It’s either or, it can’t be both.
One life is Italian with my family, the other is with Violet.
I couldn’t bear it if they rejected her…and they would.
I sip my scotch and slosh it–around my mouth before swallowing, the thought is depressing.
Alessio leans in close so that only I can hear him. “Let’s
hear him. “Let’s go to Atticus.
This place is boring as fuck, and I need some ass.
“I’m heading home.”
He screws up his face. “Why?”
“Because I want to.”
“What the hell is wrong with you
you lately?”
“Just because I’m not fucking every woman with a pulse does not mean there is something wrong
with me.”
“You’re getting soft,” he mutters dryly as he sips his drink.
I roll my eyes, but his comment hits home.
He’s right.
What the hell is wrong with me lately, I haven’t been out in weeks.
I’ve lost interest in everything; everyone just seems so…average.
I down the last of my drink. “I’m out.” I put my hand on his shoulder as I walk past him. “Have a good night.”
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I kiss my mother and sister as I say my goodbyes and I walk out of the restaurant and onto the street
where my car is waiting.
“Good evening.” Mark smiles.
“Hi.” I get into the back seat and we whiz through the streets of New York as I stare out the window.
At least I get to see her tomorrow.
The sun slowly sets behind the buildings and I pick up my phone and check it for the hundredth time
today.
It’s nearly five, where is she?
I call down to reception. “Hello, this is Gabriel Ferrara.”
“Oh,” the young girl’s voice stammers. “Mr. Ferrara, hello.”
“May I speak to Violet?”
“Yes, speaking.”
“What time did Violet Coleman say she would be back today?” “Ahhh.” She has no idea what I’m talking about.
“The woman who came to see me yesterday.”
“Oh right, the lady you were too busy to see.”
I roll my eyes at her sarcasm. “I was in a board meeting and I asked you to reschedule. When is she coming back?”
“She didn’t reschedule.”
I frown as I rise to stand. “What do you mean?” I snap.
“I…” She hesitates as if scared to go on.
“Spit it out.”
“She left, sir. She didn’t want another appointment, seeing the first was weeks away. She seemed
upset.”
{
I hang up and immediately dial Violet’s number. I pace back and forth as
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