Come Away With Me Page 10

  Then I practically strong-armed him into ordering a meal he’ll probably hate.

  On the up side, I won’t have to worry if he’ll ever ask me out again since he’ll probably find an excuse to end this date early.

  How many times had her ex-boyfriend told her to stop talking about her parents? “No one is interested,” he’d said more than once. Julia knew it was more the norm for people to gripe about how they were raised, but she didn’t have any horrific childhood stories to share. Before her mother had gotten sick, she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been as happy to be around her parents as she was to be with her friends.

  They’re good people. I won’t pretend to hate them just to sound cool.

  Not that I have any chance of appearing sophisticated now that I led off with a reference to bowel blockage.

  No wonder he’s giving me that look.

  At which point of a failed evening do you toss up the white surrender flag and call it as it is?

  “You were telling me about how your parents were the reason you came to New York,” Gio surprised her by saying.

  He’s just being polite. “It’s a long story.”

  He held her eyes and took her hand. “I don’t ask a question unless I’m interested in the answer.”

  “Are you sure?”

  His grip on her hand tightened. “The one promise I will make you is that I won’t lie to you, Julia. I’ve seen how destructive lies can be and I have no patience for them. You may not always like what I say, but it’ll be the truth.” He let out a long breath. “Now, tell me how being raised by these paragons of parents led you to a night-security job at my company.”

  The story spilled out of her, broken only momentarily by the arrival of their food. She told him about her mother’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s a few years back and how the disease had progressively worsened. She described how their lives had changed as the woman who had always led the family could no longer remember if she had turned the stove on to heat water for her tea. “My father became her full-time caretaker, and that meant neither of them were able to maintain the business. I ran the actual store, but my father was supposed to be paying the taxes and the vendors. He fell behind and didn’t tell me because he didn’t want me to worry. By the time I found out, he was also behind on the mortgage. The bank threatened to auction off the land the factory and store are on. There are developers who are interested in that land. We have sixty days to come up with two hundred thousand dollars or the bank claims the property.”

  “That’s not a lot of money. Surely the bank—”

  “To you, that’s not a lot of money. To people like me, it’s a huge amount, and more than any bank would ever lend us.”

  He studied her quietly, then said, “I could loan you the money.”

  “If I sleep with you?” she countered, pulling her hand free of his.

  “The loan would have nothing to do with what happens between us.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. “You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

  His face tightened and a slight flush spread up his cheeks. “Fine. I want you in my bed. Tonight. All night. And tomorrow night. I have a feeling that when I get you into my bed, you’re going to be an addiction that takes me awhile to break. I don’t want you working at my company. I don’t want you living where you are. If that costs me the amount you need to help your father—so be it. I’ll give you double if it gets me what I want.”

  Well, you ask for honesty—you get honesty.

  Ouch.

  “Do you pay all of your dates, or am I just the lucky one?”

  “Most women are happy with jewelry and being seen in public with me, but I don’t mind that you’re more expensive. I told you, Julia. Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

  Julia looked around the restaurant with new eyes. “And is this one of the places that you take those women?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Of course it is. You didn’t take me here because this place is special to you. You brought me here because you bring everyone here. I should have known.” She stood up and threw her napkin on her uneaten food. “Apologize to Chef Cazon for me. I just lost my appetite.”

  He stood and blocked her way. “Sit down, Julia.”

  “No,” she said, and this time she didn’t care who was watching. “You don’t get it. I’m not for sale. If you really do want to be with me you’re going to have to wake up and do a whole hell of a lot better than this.” With that, she pushed past him and rushed out of the restaurant.

  Gio almost followed her, but stopped when he saw she’d left her purse beside her chair. She wouldn’t get far without it.

  He took several large bills out of his wallet and threw them in the middle of the table, then bent to retrieve her purse. The waiter rushed over. “You’re leaving, Mr. Andrade? Was there something wrong with the food?”

  No, there is something wrong with me.

  “The evening has merely taken an unexpected turn. Please make my apologies to the chef.”

  With that, he walked out of the restaurant with Julia’s purse in his hand, not caring that the gossip rags would be abuzz with the story the next day. Right then, all he cared about was finding Julia.

  They met on the street. She was headed back toward the restaurant. She walked up to him, gloriously decked out in her tight black dress and high heels. Her blue eyes were shooting daggers at him, and she’d never looked more beautiful to him. She stopped right in front of him and wordlessly held out her hand for her purse.

  He didn’t move to give it to her. Instead, he motioned for his driver to pull the town car around. “I chose the restaurant poorly.”

  Julia stubbornly folded her arms in front of her. “Yes, you did.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Julia. If you’re confused, know that I share the feeling.”

  Relaxing somewhat, Julia looked away and then back at him, emotions darkening her eyes. “Money doesn’t give you the right to treat people the way you do.”

  “It was not my intention to offend you.” He handed her the purse.

  She took it and hugged it to her stomach. “My mother didn’t marry a man because she wanted something from him. She fell in love with my father and they built something together. You asked me why I came to New York and I started to tell you. But it’s not only the money I’m looking for. I’ve spent my life very comfortably, being like my father. Joyfully lost in my art. No real responsibilities or worries. I see now how much my mother sheltered us.”

  Gio’s heart started thudding painfully in his chest when Julia’s eyes misted with tears. He was a man who took action, but in that moment he didn’t know what to do.

  “My mother is the strongest woman I know. I have to have that strength somewhere in me. I have to. If I can find it—I know I’ll figure the rest out. Maybe I’ll sell my jewelry to a chain, or I’ll meet someone who is looking for a houseful of my dad’s furniture. I don’t know. But I do know what you’re offering me is not what I’m looking for. I live where I can afford it. I work a job that allows me to network during the day, and hopefully I’ll make connections that will lead to a solution. Not the solution you offered—but one I can live with.” She looked down at the gown she was wearing. “I knew I had made a mistake when I left the store with this dress. I shouldn’t have come here. This whole night was my fault. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

  Jaw tight, Gio said, “I don’t believe in love. Not the selfless kind you’re describing.” He reached forward and with his thumb brushed away the tear that ran down her cheek. “Don’t cry, Julia.”

  She couldn’t help it. When it came to Gio, her emotions were raw and exposed.

  “I’ve been selfish,” he said. “I keep trying to make you into someone who’ll fit into my life. I wish I had more to offer you, but I don’t. I’m not looking for marriage. I don’t want children. I’ve become so obsessed with getting into your bed that I told
myself it doesn’t matter. But it does matter—to you.”

  She smiled sadly. “I’m sorry.”

  He cupped her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly over her lips. “It’s not going to be easy knowing that you’re downstairs.”

  She covered his hand with hers, then moved away from him. “It’s not easy to say no.”

  “Get in the car,” he said briskly.

  “I meant what I said,” she said urgently.

  “My driver will take you home. I’m going to walk. I could use the fresh air.”

  She studied his expression intently, then nodded and stepped into the door the driver held open for her.

  In the quickly cooling New York night, Gio walked the ten blocks back to his office building. He needed to clear his head with work.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A few days later, Gio was at his desk reading over proposals on a possible new shale find in South America. The local governments were still discussing the feasibility of reaching it. The time was right to pick a horse in that race and invest. He would have preferred to finish one project before investing in another, but opportunities didn’t wait until the timing was convenient. They arrived like a flash of lightning and left just as quickly.

  He’d grown his family’s company by knowing where these strikes would happen and being ready to harness their power when they did. Often, he was in and out of an area before his competition knew a door had opened.

  He was decisive because hesitations cost money.

  A knock on the door was instantly followed by its swinging open without waiting for his response. This ends now. Gio stood and roared his displeasure. “I said I was not to be disturbed.”

  “No wonder Rena called me. You look like shit.” Rena’s older brother, Kane, one of Gio’s closest friends, walked in, completely unfettered by the greeting he’d received.

  “Thanks. Don’t you have a job for her at your company yet?” Still not smiling, he crossed the room to shake his friend’s hand.

  Although Kane now wore expensive suits and styled his hair conservatively, Gio would forever see his friend as he’d looked in college: unruly hair, defiantly spiked in front long before that was the fashion. Kane came from first-generation money, which brought its own challenges. Such children often struggled with addictions and excess. Luckily Kane and Rena’s parents had instilled a good work ethic in both of them. “She’s happy here,” Kane said after shaking his hand. He gave his friend a long once-over. “When you’re not yelling at her. She says you’re having a rough week.”

  “She needs to learn to mind her own business.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” Kane walked in and sat in Gio’s chair, leaning back far enough that Gio was convinced the former quarterback would break it.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” Gio said in a harsh tone. Kane smiled. They were close like brothers, and apparently that relationship had given Kane immunity to a tone that would have intimidated other men.

  “I also spoke to Luke. He said he’s worried about you. Rena is worried about you. After the article I read in the paper the other day, I’ll admit I’m a little concerned myself. The photo of you at Le Loire with that woman in a black dress preparing to give you the Heimlich maneuver was classic, but I think I preferred the one with you chasing her out the door with her purse.”

  Rubbing his tired eyes with both hands, Gio groaned. “I completely forgot to call anyone about those. Shit.”

  Sounding much too amused, Kane said, “The Internet is on fire with an article about it. ‘Billionaire Bachelor With a Sensitive Side.’ Rena said they have photos of you outside the restaurant caressing her face and looking longingly into her eyes. You’ve got it pretty bad for this one. Who is she?”

  Gio turned away from his friend and looked out the window in frustration. “No one important.”

  Kane left the chair, and his tone turned serious. “I get it. You haven’t been yourself since you came back from that engagement party with your uncles. If you’re using this woman to cheer yourself up, fine. I just want to make sure she’s not a symptom of something else going on that you’re not sharing with anyone.”

  “If I had anything I wanted to talk to you about, I have your number.”

  “You say that, but looking at you, I don’t believe it.”

  “Kane, I’ll say this as kindly as I can. Go get a testosterone shot. You spend way too much time with your sister. You’re beginning to sound like her.”

  “Sometimes she’s right. Rena says this mystery woman works here. That’s not your style.”

  If the conversation had been with anyone but Kane, it would have ended right now. Kane had been a good friend to him for too many years to take out his frustration on him. He closed his eyes for a moment, finding the calm he sought by shutting down inside. He opened his eyes, once again in control, and forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

  The joke removed the tension between them, but Kane still looked concerned. “I don’t believe you. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to come back later and get you drunk? Midday tequila shots are no longer my style, but you look like you could use a few.”

  There wasn’t a doubt in Gio’s mind that Kane would return if he wasn’t satisfied with how the conversation went, so Gio ground out, “What do you know, Kane?”

  “Are you okay?”

  Running his hand through his hair, Gio admitted the truth. “No.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not sleeping. I’m not eating. I can’t concentrate. There’s something wrong with me.”

  “Maybe you’re in love.”

  “Don’t be a fucking idiot. I’m serious. I could have a brain tumor.”

  “I’ll have to ask Luke, but I’ve never heard of a tumor causing a man to chase after a woman while clutching her purse. It is an illness, though. And, I hear, a degenerative one. Next you’ll be buying her tampons.”

  Gio pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. “I’m trying remember why we’re friends, but right now it’s difficult.”

  “Are you even dating this woman?”

  “No.”

  “Screwing her?”

  “No. I told you. She’s nothing to me.”

  Shaking his head with humor, Kane said, “I wish I could help you, Gio, but you’re already too far gone. What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. I considered her an option for something more, but it wasn’t worth the trouble. You know how I feel about anything serious.”

  “You’re such a pussy,” Kane said.

  “Excuse me?” Gio roared.

  “You heard me. Rena says this is the type of woman a man marries. She said you’re shaking in your shoes at the idea, and I think she’s right. If you like this woman, date her. Don’t hide in your office pretending that facial hair looks good on you.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Gio growled. Even the thought of Julia brought a swell of emotion to the surface—one that he fought to control. “I don’t like who I am around her. I’m jealous. I’m impulsive. I say stupid shit.”

  Kane smiled sympathetically. “It eventually happens to all of us. That’s nature’s way of ensuring we perpetuate our species—by making some of them so fucking irresistible that we lose our minds.” He looked down at his watch. “I have a meeting across town in a few minutes. I should head out.” He gave Gio a pat on the back. “You’ll survive this, Gio. Hang in there. At least it’s not a brain tumor.”

  After Kane left, Gio sat at his desk and thought about what he’d said. Although he disagreed with the diagnosis his friend had given him, some of his advice had merit. If this were a business deal, nothing would stop him from closing on it.

  It was only in his personal life that he held himself back. Deny. Control. Remember your duty. Keep emotions in check. Do nothing that risks the stability of the family or the company.

  Julia endangered all that.

  Around her, he didn’t care about anything else.

 
And Rena was right: That had him shaking in his black Bruno Magli shoes.

  “Rena, is Julia on tonight?”

  “No, she called in sick.”

  His stomach flipped painfully. “Clear my schedule for today.”

  “Of course.”

  He didn’t give himself time to second-guess his decision. He removed his tie and jacket and threw them on the chair before heading out of his office. As he walked by Rena’s desk, he growled, “I’m not happy with you.”

  She smiled back at him. “I can live with that. Now go see what’s wrong with Julia. I have a feeling it’s the same thing that ails you.”

  Still in her nightgown, with her hair sticking up wildly in all directions, Julia sat in the middle of her bed, hugging her knees. I should throw the roses away. Keeping them is a constant reminder of the fool I made of myself.

  Gio hadn’t called.

  Not that I expected him to after how our date ended.

  What did I think would happen? That we’d discover we had more in common than bits and pieces that are hot for each other? Was I expecting to wow him with witty dialogue? Floor him with my sophisticated banter?

  That a bad decision could lead to something wonderful?

  I’m such an idiot.

  He has been honest about what he wants. I’m the one who keeps wavering and driving us both crazy. What did Mom used to say? “If you plant a potato, you get a potato.” Julia used to roll her eyes at her mother whenever she’d say it. It was another way of saying, “If you go looking for trouble, you’ll find it.”

  Or, if you date a man who says he’s willing to pay you for sex—you end up feeling like a woman who was offered money for sex. Even if he wrapped the offer in a cushion of a thousand roses.

  Or worse, you regret not saying yes, even though you hate yourself for wanting him enough to consider shelving your self-respect and giving in.

  I can’t keep calling in sick to Cogent.

  But I can’t watch him walk by me like I don’t matter.