Chapter 2
Chapter two
I Really Fucked That Up
Marco
Six years ago, earlier that day
“Sophia!” I shout, following the trail of water and sand she’s brought in with her from the beach through the kitchen and up the stairs.
What the fuck is wrong with me? After a summer of flirting, I finally had her in my arms. She had her legs around me and my body was pressed against hers looking like every sin I want to commit in that bikini…
and I had a brain explosion. She offered me the perfect opening to take the kiss I’ve been dying to share with her all summer, and instead I opened my mouth and a whole lot of bullshit fell out that has made her feel inexperienced and stupid.
Clearly two traits that very much apply to me right now.
“Sophia! I’m sorry. Just talk to me, okay,” I shout as I knock on her door. It’s locked.
She doesn’t answer, but I know she’s in there. “Soph, open the door. Let me explain.”
“Marco, just go away,” comes her muffled voice, like she’s got her face smooshed into a pillow.
Fuck, she’s probably crying into it so no one hears. It was always her default move when her dad would upset her at family dinner. Constantly nagging her about grades and accepting Harvard’s offer, when she’s always had her heart set on doing law at Columbia.
She’s so smart, she got letters of offer from both Columbia and Harvard. Here I am once again proving what a fool I am as I plead for her to open the door so I can make it right. I don’t deserve the adoration she reserves for me, and yet I crave it. Lap it up like the selfish prick I am.
“Please, Kitten,” I plead, hoping the nickname will soften her resolve.
“I need to get ready for the party tonight.”
“What…you’re going to that? I thought we were going for pizza and gelato instead.”
“Yeah, well you thought wrong!” The bite in her tone tells me she left all the tears she’s gonna cry over me in the pillow.
Before I can beg her some more to speak to me, her dad’s voice pierces through my panic. I look up and see him standing in the doorway of his office at the very end of the long hallway.
“Marco, son, can you please step into my office. We need to have a chat.”
Shit! What’s he doing here? I thought he and his wife, Sienna, were at lunch with my parents.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s going to ask what I’ve done to upset his daughter.
How does one say, “Well, sir, I have a hard-on for your daughter, literally, because she’s beautiful and smart and instead of admitting it—both that she’s the reason for the actual hard-on and that she’s beautiful and smart—I fucked it all up. ”
I feel naked in just my wet swim shorts as I silently tread the stairs and follow Patrick into his office. My heart is pounding; Patrick looks calm, but I know he doesn’t mess around when it comes to Sophia.
Though his choice of words seems warm, there’s an icy undercurrent of disapproval that punctuates them.
“Sit, please.” He gestures to the large cream fabric couch along the back wall of his office. A stark contrast to the ominous feeling starting to wrap itself around me.
He perches on the edge of his desk, facing me, trying to come off as causal, even though I’m certain this conversation is going to be anything but.
“I trust you had a nice time at the beach.” It’s a statement, not a question, which tells me we’re going to skip the small talk and get to the root of whatever he’s hauled me in here for.
“I’m just going to cut to the chase, son.”
Yep, there it is. I simply nod. I just need to get through this and get back to convincing Sophia to talk to me.
“I need you to help me with something important for Sophia,” he continues.
“As you know, she’s deciding between Harvard and Columbia.
She’s made no secret that her heart is set on Columbia, and no doubt the opportunity it offers to stay close to her loved ones.
” He arches an eyebrow knowingly. “But given I’m one of the biggest donors of Harvard’s prestigious law program and it’s where both Raf and I graduated, it’s where Sophia should go.
It’s the most advantageous choice for her career-wise and as a matter of optics for our firm. ”
I meet his imploring, knowing gaze with a puzzled look.
He probably thinks it’s because I’m a dumb wanna-be nightclub owner who doesn’t understand the big words he uses.
I’m certain he intentionally speaks like that to make me feel inferior, and sometimes it does make me question if I’m good enough for Sophia.
But mostly, I’m completely confused how I fit into all this.
How would I be able to help Sophia choose?
“And how exactly do you think I can help?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“My daughter looks at you like you hung the moon, Marco. I don’t know what has caused the commotion out there today, but I think you care for her deeply, too.
” Pushing off his desk he comes to stand closer, so he’s peering down at me.
“If you do care for her as deeply as I think you do, you should convince her to choose Harvard instead of Columbia. It’s the best move for her, and you’re the only person with enough influence to make her see that, son. ”
There it is again, the affectionate use of that word, son.
A carrot he dangles, like maybe if I help him with this one thing, he’d consider letting me be part of his family.
I push the thought away and consider what he’s asking.
Am I sure this is the right move for Sophia? Isn’t Columbia one of the best schools?
“But—but—it’s not what she wants. Like you said, she’ll miss her family…” I stammer, trying to figure out my own feelings at the same time as trying not to reveal just how much I care for his daughter. “I mean, you know Sophia, she’s going to be top of the class regardless—”
“You’re missing the point here, Marco,” he cuts me off tersely, before schooling his features once again. “You help me, and I help you.”
I raise my eyebrows in question, but don’t get to voice it because Patrick just steamrolls right ahead.
“If you do me—Sophia really—this favor, I’ll give you and Sebastian the financial backing to set up Bella Donna and go guarantor for the building, no questions asked.” His eyes gleam, and I suddenly understand why he’s earned the nickname The Wolf.
He knows he has me right where he wants me. Seb and I aren’t messing around with Bella Donna. Our entire business plan for the luxury nightclub hinges on our pitch for Patrick’s investment.
We’ve already invested every cent we’ve been able to get together individually. Fuck. How can I admit to Seb I let our future go down the drain because I refused to convince his sister she should choose one amazing law school over another? My stomach and heart are in free fall.
“And if I don’t do what you’re asking of me?”
“Well, that’s just it. You don’t get your dream club.
And from the sounds of things out there, you’re not going to get your dream girl either.
But if you help me, I’ll put in a good word for you to Sophia, and when she comes back from Harvard, who knows?
” He pushes on like he didn’t just drop a bomb in my lap and watch it detonate.
“You’ll also sign a non-disclosure agreement stating only you and I are privy to the special conditions of this contract. You break the contract, I pull my backing.”
I rub my hands up and down my legs, trying to rationalize how I can find a positive in his positively fucked proposition.
Seb and I presented our business plan to Patrick a few weeks ago, and he told us he’d get back to us.
It didn’t look promising, but this—well, it changes everything.
All I have to do is give Sophia a nudge to choose Harvard and we’ll get Bella Donna off the ground.
Yes, she’ll be gone for years—how long is a law degree again?
Five, six years?—but I’ll be focused. She’ll come back, and I’ll be ready to show her just how wrong I was this summer.
I lift my head to look at the ceiling, resisting the urge to holler “Fuuuuucckkkkk” at the top of my lungs because I know deep down, she deserves better.
She doesn’t want to go to Harvard, but maybe she’s not seeing things clearly. The big picture. I can see it.
“Alright, I’ll help you. Both Sophia and Sebastian deserve the very best, and I won’t be the reason they don’t get it.
” I blow out a breath before continuing.
“Even if Sophia doesn’t want to go to Harvard, I agree with you that she’s worthy of the prestige it offers.
But Patrick, please know that when the time comes, I’ll do whatever it takes to call her mine, because you’re right, I do care deeply for your daughter.
When the contract is ready, send it over.
In the meantime, I’ll deliver the good and the bad news. ”
With that, I stand and walk out the door and head straight to my room to try and get myself in check.
I may have given up my hand this time, but I’m a betting guy so I’ll go all in and double-down to show Patrick nothing will stop me from winning the whole damn pot.
I just need to bide my time and play my cards right.