Chapter 5
Ipainted another smile on my face. I was getting very good at hiding my true feelings.
James looked both different and the same to me. I wondered if it was the light or just the circumstance of our meeting. His wavy dark hair was less unkempt, he looked rested, and he’d shaved. His cheeks were smooth, while I’d remembered them stubbled.
His clothes were changed. He slipped away in the morning and must have returned to the room to shower, shave, and dress after I left. I wanted to ask him why he left in the morning without saying goodbye, but I said nothing.
After all, I agreed to the terms of our one-night stand, which was first names and nothing more. Still, how dare he make love to me all night, disappear, and show up and offer to shake my hand as if we’d never met?
“I’m James Street of Street Entertainment,” he said. His hand extended, he glanced at me with those wide dark eyes.
His lashes were as long and beautiful as I remembered. They were ridiculous and gorgeous and I was standing there like a tongue-tied fool, remembering all the parts of me he tasted hours before.
Mouth dry, I reached out and shook his hand, trying to be cool.
“Isabella Uzano,” I said. “Charmed.”
James nodded, but his eyes did not linger on my face. He did not smile. He betrayed nothing of our night of passion.
“Excuse me,” my father said, touching James on the arm. “I need to check with Nico on a few things before we begin. I will see you at the table.”
“Of course,” James said. He nodded and blew on his porcelain cup as if it were hot.
We faced each other. It was awkward.
“I see you found yourself an espresso,” I said. “You know, I can ask the kitchen to prepare a flask of our finest American coffee for you, if you prefer it ‘to go.’” I smiled and raised my eyebrows.
Discretion was what I had agreed to, and I knew it was childish, but I wanted a tiny acknowledgment of our shared secret.
“Excuse me?” James said, leaning toward me as if he had heard me wrong.
“Coffee?” I said, lowering my voice to a discrete level. “In a flask?”
“I’m sorry. Did you just offer me coffee in a flask?”
“I was making a joke,” I said, trying to diffuse the situation. “Yesterday…”
“I drink tea,” he said abruptly. He nodded toward the conference table. “I should take a seat.”
“Of course.”
My father arrived at the head of the table. He pulled out a chair to his right and waved for James to join him.
Could I just melt into the floor now and disappear? I kicked myself for bringing up our night together. It was against the rules, and he was obviously lying to send me a message.
But who lies about hot beverages? I remembered him having a bit more of a sense of humor, but who was I kidding? I did not know this man at all.
I needed to know more about James Street. Scratch that. I needed to know more about this acquisition and stop thinking about how I spread my legs for a gorgeous man. It was time to pull myself together.
Six men and women in suits filed into the ballroom and took seats at the conference table. This must be the acquisitions team, I thought. So, was this an acquisition or a hostile take-over? I hoped my father knew what he was doing.
As I walked toward the boardroom table, my pulse thumped like a drum, each beat a reminder of my mistakes. I needed to be on high alert if I was going to gain control of this situation.
I underestimated my father’s anger at me, I underestimated Roberto’s shame, and I trusted the wrong person at the wrong time, James Street. The man I slept with was going to take over my family’s business. What was the universe telling me by sending my one and only one-night-stand into this meeting room?
So much for my message of empowerment. I wanted to rewind and climb back into bed and endure a night of insomnia, looking at the fresco overhead.
I would be exhausted, but at least I would have gotten the message about the meeting change and I wouldn’t be fantasizing about running my hands down the rock-hard abs of a stranger.
Who are you kidding? I thought. One look at that man and my insides melted. Even if I hadn’t slept with him, I was going to fantasize about running my hands down his chest and gripping his throbbing dick in my hands.
James kept his back to me as he talked to my father. I panicked for a moment, wondering if our night of passion was planned. What if he orchestrated our meeting as the ultimate mind-fuck? Fuck the boss’s daughter to even the playing field.
No, I told myself. No one could have predicted I would go for a walk that night, and we’d literally crashed into one another. I could have walked another direction and ended up on the other side of the lagoon.
Besides, James asked me nothing about my family. If he had wanted to only mine me for information, he would have done more than drill me with that enormous and beautiful cock of his.
I stood by the breakfast table holding a pan a chocolate in one hand and a cappuccino in the other. I could not tear my eyes away from James.
His suit jacket fit him perfectly and he radiated confidence as he leaned back in his seat. It felt like he was assessing everything and everybody in this room.
Here I was worried about choking on my pastry, or getting crumbs on my sweater and he looked like the model smoking hot executive.
He stood and turned to shake hands with Nico, but I could not help but stare at his gorgeous ass. I was turning into a deranged sex maniac. What was wrong with me?
I took another bite of my pan a chocolate, finding the familiar sweet taste comforting like a cozy blanket or a warm fire. Roberto walked into the room, passing me as if I didn’t exist. I resisted the urge to stick out my leg and trip him.
“Fine, ignore me,” I wanted to shout. “I don’t care.”
My mother, Maria, followed. She wore her hair pulled back in her signature chignon. She sidled up beside me and helped herself to a cappuccino and pastry. “Where were you last night, Bella?” she said, keeping her voice low.
“I went for a walk, Mama,” I said. “I walked and decided to stay at the Mia Sorella.”
She looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“There was room,” I said, avoiding eye contact and getting ahead of her question. “And I thought the meeting was later. Someone could have told me that the date of the board meeting shifted, but I had to find out from Roberto.”
My mother shook her head. “I would have told you if you had been in your room,” she said. “If I had known you were going out, I could have better controlled your father.”
“You shouldn’t need to control him,” I said.
She gave me a look and did not respond to my critique.
“Next time, I’ll let you know if I go out. I’m sorry.”
She stood on her tiptoes to give me a quick peck on the cheek. “I like your lipstick,” she said, surprising me.
My mother’s affection was unpredictable, at best. “Now sit and show your father you can’t be ruffled by his antics.”
Nico’s financial team entered, a rotating team of number crunchers. As far as I could tell, Nico’s business was booming, as he seemed able to be able to hire an army of people to help inform my father, he was running low on money.
Next, Auntie Aurora and Uncle Lorenzo arrived, arm-in-arm.
“Ciao, Bella,” Auntie Aurora said.
She was the head chef in Andiamo, and had been one of the reasons my mother had finally acquiesced and allowed me to attend culinary school. Auntie Aurora had promised her that my life would not be ruined by my choice.
“Buongiorno, mia Bella.” My uncle gave me a quick hug.
My aunt and uncle took a seat at the table, all eyes on my father like everyone else in the room. I took some comfort in realizing that I had more allies than I had thought. Nico, Roberto’s father, of course, ignored me.
“We should begin,” my father said, standing at the head of the table. “Everyone, please sit.”
Running away was not an option, so I put an agenda under my arm, and holding a coffee and pastry in each hand, I took a seat at the far end of the table. I realized after I sat down that I was at a diagonal across from James.
He did not look my way once.
My father commanded the room with his usual dominance. They did a round of introductions, which is where I learned that James Street was the Vice President of Hospitality at Street Entertainment. He traveled with six people in his entourage.
His team spoke very little, but took copious notes, and they all seemed tied to their cell phones. I wondered why my father was allowing them to constantly text. If the Street team was here to discuss an acquisition, shouldn’t they be having one conversation?
Nico and Roberto shared a Power Point on the financials. I perked up. I knew my father didn’t expect me to track the PL for the company, but I did.
One benefit to being with Roberto for the last two years was that I had gotten used to reading our financial statements. My father never tasked me with this part of the business. In fact, he tasked me with very little, but Roberto had all of the documents and I taught myself to read the forecast and budget accruals.
Roberto took the lead in the budget discussion and highlighted the first quarter’s financials. The bottom line was not good.
“We are forecasting a budget shortfall of approximately two million across the Uzano portfolio,” Roberto said. “As we have discussed, global events and environmental concerns around sustainability in Venice have impacted the volume of tourists coming to our grand city.
Also, supply chain issues have impacted the cost of materials in the expansion of our hotel in Florence and the remodel of Milan. The cost of labor has gone up and the market is simply not allowing us to capture the revenue we forecasted when we took on those expansion plans.”
My father nodded his face stony. “Of course, of course. Can we please move onto new business? I understand that we have stretched ourselves financially and it has put us into a difficult position.”
He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Isabella,” he said, “you have a Carnival proposal. Proceed.”
“Yes, thank you.” I stood and walked to the front of the room.
“Do you have any materials you would like to share?” Roberto asked. “A presentation, a one-sheet?”
“No,” I said. I had those items prepared, of course, but they were all in my room at home.
Roberto shrugged his expression, noting that he didn’t care either way.
At the head of the table, I stood behind my father, which gave me a full view of James. I tried to shake the feeling I was presenting directly to him. Well, better to pretend to present to that gorgeous man than to my ex-fiancé.
“I have a proposal for our Venice property, the Mia Sorella,” I said. “As the board is aware, last quarter we approved adding my candies to the front desk of the hotel and to the restaurant.
I prepared and provided Black Sea salted caramels, a single flavor, to offer our guests. This small investment provides a touch of sweetness, and we have data from our guests that the candies are a differentiator for our hotel.”
“They are also a sunk cost,” my father said. “We approved an initial spend and agreed to give them away for free.”
“Understood,” I said, my voice steady. “Which brings me to my proposal.”
I glanced at the ballroom doors, and as if on cue, Lissa entered with a tray that held a small silver bowls of caramels. She placed them on the tables.
“Thank you, Lissa,” I said, smiling.
“The customer feedback on our comment cards, as well as verbal feedback from the staff, all indicate that our guests would like to be able to purchase the candies and bring them home as a souvenir or gift. They have also been especially popular in our Andiamo restaurant.”
I nodded toward the silver dishes. “I would like to ask the board for a small investment to add a new brand to our retail portfolio. I call it, Bella Baci.”
James looked up at me, unblinking. I swallowed and continued.
“Bella Baci candies are delightful and will help our guests remember Venice, like a beautiful kiss.” I paused. It was so hard to read the room.
“I have enough inventory prepared for Carnival, which as you know is already under way. This means we can sell boxes at the front desk, and at the restaurant. After today’s meeting, you will have a summary of the cost and forecasted revenue.
When things go well with our Venice properties, the numbers are even better if we distribute across all our locations.”
I glanced at James and noticed his dark eyes still watching me. In fact, he looked like he was actually eating one of my caramels and drinking that damn tea.
The thought of his mouth spun my mind to the memory of his lips on my neck, on my chest, my breasts. My cheeks flushed. This was not helpful; I needed to focus. I took a deep breath.
“I recommend we establish three flavors, Black Sea Salt, Vanilla, and Jalape?o. It is a lovely blend of sweet and spicy, and I have provided samples for everyone here today.” Murmurs of conversation followed as the board and the Street team all sampled the candies.
“I understand that our core business is hospitality,” I said, talking faster. People were enjoying my caramels. Knowing this gave me a burst of optimism, as surely the board would approve my modest ask.
“Every candy is made with care, and with a modest investment, we can create a way for the tourists who come to our gilded city to take home a piece of Venice.”
James reached out and unwrapped another caramel. I noted that his entire team was now eating caramels. In fact, they’d gone for second and third pieces, based on the diminishing pile of candies in front of them. I almost smiled, but kept my expression neutral and professional.
“I also have plans to upgrade the packaging with themed boxes to highlight our locations across Italy. Tourists will essentially purchase advertisements from us, which they will take home and share with their friends.”
I had a mock-up of the box in my room. I swayed on my borrowed high heels, watching the door. Lissa walked in holding a stack of black-and-white and jewel- toned boxes in her hands.
As the door closed behind her, there was Leo, bent at the waist with his hands on his knees right outside. He looked red-faced, as though he had run here. He probably had.
A surge of gratitude moved through me. Leo had made it. I waved to Lissa as she approached. “Instead of giving the sample boxes to me, please pass them around the table. Thank you, Lissa.”
I picked up one of the boxes and held it up to showcase the design detail.
“You can see that the classic black, white, and red box features the famous dual masks of Carnival. And when you open the lid, there is a map of Venice on the underside, highlighting the hotel and restaurant.
Over time, you can imagine that we can create these for all of our locations,” I said. “For now, we focus on Venice and Carnival.”
“Thank you, Isabella,” my father interrupted, placing both hands on the table in front of him.
“Oh, of course, thank you for your time,” I said. Turning to my father I coughed to mask my fluster. “Should we proceed with a verbal vote?”
“No,” my father said. “I do not see this as a core tenant of our business, Isabella. We are not voting today.” My father’s words were a direct contradiction to the energy and momentum in the room.
I looked around the table, my pulse thumping. Lissa stood by the breakfast table; hands clasped in front of her. My mother’s expression unreadable, she stared at my father.
In fact, there were smiles up and down the table. Everyone was enjoying the samples, but per usual, my father, Umberto Uzano, would be the decider of my fate, and Papa had not eaten a single piece of candy. My optimism burst and sank like a stone deep in my belly.
“Isabella, I appreciate the time and energy you have put into this little endeavor,” he said, his voice weary. The word “little” stung. I held my smile steady, but knew I had lost.
“This is not a core business. It is a distraction. My answer today is, no. And onto the Street acquisition. We have much to discuss.”
He dismissed me with a perfunctory nod. There was a murmur as the rejection rippled through the room. I took a breath still holding my fucking smile.
I was getting so good at pretending it wasn’t humiliating to have all my hard work reduced to a “little endeavor.” I was practiced at pretending it didn’t hurt that my father chose Roberto over me. And today I mastered masking the awkwardness of sharing oxygen with the man who had made me come three times last night.
My father continued with his agenda. “We are voting today on formally partnering with Street Entertainment. James, can you please share your perspective on why this is a good opportunity with the board?”
James cleared his throat and stood. “Thank you, Isabella, and these are delicious.” He paused to place a caramel wrapper on the table. “I also agree with your father, that they are not the core business.”
His words punched my already pummeled body. My cheeks burned with humiliation. I concentrated on keeping my lips turned upward as I navigated the long walk around the table and back to my seat.
“The beauty of what the Uzano family has built is just that, a family business.” James stood at the front of the room. Hands in his pockets, he looked totally at ease.
“Your portfolio of properties have heart. You are well established in some of the most charming cities in Italy, and your brand evokes a feeling of comfort and elegance that has built you a baseline of loyal guests. But,” James nodded toward his team, the lights dimmed, and the Power Point presentation began.
“Your guests are aging, and you are not connecting with younger travelers who are focused on value and a more contemporary elegance. These travelers don’t value grandmother’s porcelain plates.”
There was a bit of laughter. I sat down. In front of me was a tea cup that was most definitely my grandmother’s porcelain. My vision swirled as tears filled my eyes. I dug my fingernails into my palm to keep them from spilling over.
Auntie Aurora leaned over. “You will get your day. The cards have shown me.”
“Thank you, Auntie,” I whispered, cutting her off. I knew she meant well, but I couldn’t take any encouragement from the physical or spirit world today. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
James continued his revelations around our shrinking customer base and the investment required across our locations for a clientele that expected not just WIFI, but internet connectivity broad enough to enable streaming.
Guests expected apps to make online booking easier, which demanded an investment in technology. James detailed the cost per location for upgrading each room, preserving old world elegance, but adding clean lines and simplicity. He talked about making changes to the menus for room service and the restaurants, focusing on Mia Sorella.
“Guests today expect options that work for their palate and their dietary needs: vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free, pescatarian, nut allergies.” James smiled. “I know that some of this goes against the Italian way, but people today know a lot more about the foods and diets they need to stay healthy.”
“Street Properties has built a reputation of creating spaces that are an oasis for our clients, spaces where their every need is met with ease. It is effortless elegance and value that our customers will pay for.
“We are looking to join you as partners as we acquire your company as a marquis hospitality brand inside Street Entertainment. We bring with us an injection of capital that will allow Uzano to elevate its portfolio of properties to a level that loyal Street customers have come to expect.”
I hated to admit it to myself, but James was polished. He exuded confidence and power. His dark eyes moved across the table connecting with all of the voters. He was smooth. He knew our business. He spoke like a man who was used to telling people what to do.
He spoke about the Mia Sorella as if we were a gem that needed polishing to reveal the grade and complexity of the stone. Yet, he had seemed underwhelmed by our hotel the night before.
There was no mention of his vision for my family’s business as he lifted my body in the air and lay me down on the bed naked before him. What would he have done last night if he had known he was about to fuck the daughter of his future business partner?
My pulse raced, and I hoped my burning cheeks went unnoticed. My thighs tingled when I remembered the rush of his touch, the waves of pleasure he stirred up inside. He had stroked and massaged my body until my release uncoiled, shattering me in waves. Lissa had intimated that my screams of passion had awakened the whole building.
Roberto sat beside James, his hands folded under his chin. He nodded along in unison as if they had choreographed their mutual approval for each other. Roberto was in on this deal. It seemed everyone was in on this deal, but me. My disappointment over my father’s outright rejection of Bella Baci morphed into frustration and anger.
“James, may I add something,” Roberto said, standing.
Great. That is what we all needed, commentary from Roberto. My face hot, I wished I could jump out of my chair and escape this farce of a board meeting. James did not miss a beat.
He stepped back as I prepared to listen to my former fiancé pontificate.
“I want to thank James for sharing his vision and also Umberto for being open to this kind of change.”
I seethed watching my ex-fiancé establish his dominance.
“This deal is good for our family,” Roberto stumbled. “I mean the Uzano family.” And, there it was, the reference to my betrayal. If I had married Roberto, he would officially be a part of the Uzano family.
I took a handful of caramels and shoved two into my mouth at once, chewing. The rush of sugar and chocolate calmed me. Damn, my candies were good.
“I have done the due diligence, Umberto,” Roberto said. “Our firm has represented your financial interest for years, and I want to ask the board to approve this acquisition and allow the Uzano portfolio to evolve and grow.”
My father looked up and down the table. “This deal is good. It allows us to expand and we keep control at fifty-one percent. If you had told me that one day I would welcome outsiders to our table, I would have said you were wrong. But here we are. Sometimes you need more than family.”
Roberto’s family had money, not as much as Street Entertainment, but if we had married, it would have solved a major cash flow problem for my father. We wouldn’t need to be acquired.
This was all happening because I had dared to walk away from Roberto. In my father’s eyes, this was all my fault.
“Thank you,” James said, nodding as he stood beside Roberto. “I appreciate the time you have taken to transparently help me and the team to understand your business.”
My father stood. “Shall we prepare for a vote? Maria?” He nodded toward my mother.
“All in favor of moving forward with the Street acquisition, say ‘aye.’” My mother led the vote, moving around the table one by one.
A rounding chorus of “ayes.”
Sitting beside me, Auntie Aurora gave her vote.
“Aye,” she said softly.
My mother paused, pointing to me.
“Nay,” I said, my voice low and steady.
I feared my vote would be viewed as childish or defiant, but I no longer cared. I knew that selling almost half of our family business to a stranger was not something I could stand behind without information and consideration. I deserved a seat at the table, a real seat.
My mother shook her head and continued the vote. I was the only dissenting vote, which meant it was a useless protest, but still, I stood my ground. Without a unilateral vote, the board would need to reconvene again to formally accept the offer.
I hadn’t stopped anything. My protest added a symbolic delay. Unless I was able to convince a majority of the family to shift with me, the vote would be notarized without incident and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
My mother stood at the front of the room, beside Umberto. “The ‘aye’s’ have it,” she said, nodding. “There is one ‘nay.’ We will reconvene in five days.”
The room erupted in clapping. Umberto, Nico, Roberto, and James stood in a circle looking satisfied with the outcome. My whole life, I thought that my future was here in Venice with my family, and in a few short months, I no longer knew where I belonged.
Lissa stood behind me with a silver tray of champagne flutes. “Bella, would you like a glass,” she whispered.
I shook my head. “No, thank you, Lissa.”
Lissa nodded, her lips in a thin line. “I thought you did very well today,” she said. “I’m sorry Leo and I were late with your boxes.”
“It didn’t matter, but thank you. Thank you for your discretion this morning, too.” I glanced at James, wondering if my memory of our night together would fade over time and someday feel like a dream.
It already felt as though a lifetime had passed since he’d touched my body, since he’d filled me completely with his hard cock as if I were the lock and he were the key.
I had woken up feeling optimistic, powerful, and beautiful. Now? I felt low and blue. For once I truly understood the risk of flying high. There is nothing like the feeling of the air beneath your wings, but beware gravity and the pain when your body falls to earth.
“Leo is in the lobby,” said Lissa.
Leo and I worked so hard on re-designing those boxes. They were beautiful and I knew they would sell if we received approval. Leo spent hours of his personal time helping me with revisions, and today, I knew he likely had a shift at the glass factory and he’d worked around it for me.
He was always here to help me with my emergencies, my crises. He was the best friend in the world.
“I should go talk to him,” I said, squeezing Lissa’s hand. “I appreciate everything you did for me today. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“I recognize the currency of Bella Baci.” She winked. “Pay me with chocolate.”
“Deal,” I said, managing a smile, before heading toward the exit.
I was almost out the door when a hand touched my shoulder. I turned around. James stood behind me. “Isabella,” he said.
I shook my head as if I could make him disappear. I did not want to talk to him. It was one thing to give my body to a stranger, but I did not sign up to see him watch me be humiliated by my father the next morning.
“I’m sorry, but I have a friend waiting in the lobby.” I moved to push past him.
“We should talk,” he said, his hand on my arm.
“I think I’ve heard enough talking today.” I glanced down at his hand. “We’ve seen enough of each other, as well. Let go of me.”
“There is something I need to explain to you.”
“I don’t know how that will help anything.”
He looked pained, and I noticed him glance down the table toward my father, who was watching our every move.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let my father know what you did to me last night,” I said, my voice low. “I know it didn’t mean anything to you, but I can’t believe you acted like you’d never met me at all.”
He laughed as if I said something funny and wrapped his arms around me in a big hug.
“What the hell?” I said
“Trust me,” he whispered, his lips against my ear. “
Meet me in the piazza in front of Andiamo tonight. There is something I need to show you.”
“Trust you?” I laughed, leaning back. So, the man who’d agreed to a night built on lies wanted me to trust him in the daylight. “I can’t trust you.”
“Meet me anyway, Isabella,” he said, releasing me from his arms. His dark eyes sparkled and electricity crackled between us. I looked into the face of my mystery lover, but saw a distance in his gaze that I couldn’t reconcile with running my hands over his naked body and the ridge of his enormous cock. “Please.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe, I will meet you in the piazza.”
“Eight p.m.”
“Eight p.m.”
James leaned back to look at me, his face in a big grin. “Yes, congratulations to us all,” he said, his voice booming. Right. He was playing the role of the conqueror, and now he’d shown them all how he was making peace with the only voice of dissent in the room.
I felt defeated, as though I’d been played again, first by my family and now by James. I left the room, legs shaking the taste of failure bitter in my mouth. I had made a terrible mistake thinking I could persuade the board and my family to support me. I also feared I had made a mistake sleeping with the enemy.
Yet, if James had been such a terrible mistake, why was my body aching for that man’s touch? Why did some part of me hope that he would try to seduce me again?
I ached to feel his body on top of me, inside me. I leaned against the wall just outside the dining room. What secrets could James Street possibly reveal?
I liked to believe I would stand him up, but I knew it was a revenge fantasy that would never play out. As I walked across the marble floor on my borrowed high heels, I decided to meet him in front of Andiamo.
My mind told me to run away, while my body dared me to run toward him. I wanted to feel his hands on my hips, his lips on my breasts, his body inside mine.
Fuck me.
If making love to James Street was a mistake, I wanted to make it again.