Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“How do you know he bought this dress for me?”
“Word around town is you’re stone-cold broke.” She grins. She actually grins. “There’s no way you could afford a Bianchon. Unless you’re putting that mouth to good use.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Just because that’s your currency doesn’t mean it’s mine.”
Her face darkens. Then she remembers. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a virgin.” And she laughs at me.
Oddly, in that moment, I think about Natalie and Eve’s reactions when I told them, and how it didn’t make them see me as anything but their equal. Not like Angelica, who’s always thought she was so much better than me because she was more worldly and experienced and had a rich, ambitious husband with an insatiable sexual appetite.
“You know what I’ve come to realize, Angelica?”
“Pray tell.” She sighs dramatically.
“You’re not worth it.”
She bristles. Because she can see she isn’t getting to me.
“You did me a favor when you ended our friendship. Oh it, hurt. But it allowed me the chance to see that my life is actually better without you in it.”
Her eyes narrow. “You think you’re something special now because you’re on his arm tonight. You can’t possibly think walking in on the arm of the most prestigious bachelor in the city is going to fix what your father did. We can still smell the stench of who you really are no matter how many pretty dresses you put on. And I don’t know what game you’re playing at with Massimo De Kysa, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re just not good enough.”
Wow.
Like, really wow.
I don’t know what to say, I’m so stunned.
So I do the only thing I can think of… I yawn.
As if her words didn’t sting like a scorpion’s tail and simply rolled off my back.
Then I smile. With lips that have just been so exquisitely kissed by Massimo. They broaden into a brighter, bigger, better smile because I realize Angelica can’t hurt me anymore.
Let her drown in her own venom.
“I’m sorry, I do that when I’m bored,” I say, turning my back on her to continue fixing my lipstick in the mirror. “Fly away, little bird, I don’t have time for people who think they’re too good for me.”
I feel her dark energy tighten around us. “You can talk, ignoring us out there as if you’re too good for us because you’re horny for Don Massimo.”
I drop my lipstick into my tote and turn around.
“You want to know why I ignored you?” I say, towering over her because somehow she seems smaller and less of a threat. “It’s because you dumped me at the first sign of bad weather, and if you don’t stand by me in my worst hours, then you sure as hell don’t get to stand by me during my best.”
Without another word, I leave the restroom knowing I’m done with her for good.
And boy it feels good.
33
MASSIMO
I can see by the look on her face that something happened in the bathroom. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s walking faster back to me.
“You okay?” I ask.
She flashes me a big grin. But she lies. “Couldn’t be better.”
I don’t ask her what happened in the ladies’ room. Because I have a feeling she wants it left in the past. But there is a fierceness about her. A change. Like she’s just found a missing piece to her puzzle and feels powerful, strong enough, to make it to the next step without something holding her back anymore.
I take her hand. “Wanna get out of here?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Are you going to feed me?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Right answer,” she says with a dazzling smile.
I give her my arm. “Then let me take you to the best food in town.”
“Fat Mikey,” Bianca reads the name on the side of the food truck.
“Home to the best Italian sandwiches in New York City,” I say.
“Oh my God, that’s exactly what I want,” she says, clutching my arm as we walk up to the truck. “I’m starving.”
“Then we’ve definitely come to the right place. These sandwiches will keep you satisfied until morning.”
She cocks an eyebrow, and I cock one back, then step up to the serving window.
“Two Fat Sals,” I tell the server.
“What’s a Fat Sal?” Bianca asks.
“The best sandwich in the world, is what it is. Delicate prosciutto with lashings of smoked mozzarella, homemade ricotta spread, the plumpest sun-dried tomatoes you’ve ever seen, fresh basil, all served on a bed of peppery arugula.”
“I can’t tell you how turned on I am right now.”
“If I knew that’s what turned you on, I would’ve talked food to you a lot sooner.”
I know I’m walking a thin line but I can’t help it with Bianca. She makes me want to take risks, and unfortunately, in my line of business, that is a giant mistake.
But there is a simmering attraction buzzing just beneath the surface that neither of us can deny. Oh, we’ve been dancing around it. Hell, I’ve been in flat out denial. But tonight, all those walls are slowly crumbling around us.