Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
For The Gram
Marco
Thirty-five long fucking minutes later, we arrive at Joey’s Pizza Parlor.
Chiara’s X-rated audiobook played the entire time.
If there’s such thing as exposure therapy for fear of busting a nut, I’m positive I’ve just experienced it.
My mind meanders back to Sophia, the woman at the epicenter of all my dick’s problems. I wonder what she’s doing today.
I wanted to text her again this morning like a simp but managed to rein in my neediness.
But I really need to know now if she listens to this spicy shit too.
Chiara is using the bathroom before we find AJ and our table. I whip out my phone and pull up my chat with Sophia.
Me:
Do you know what a Why Choose, Reverse Harem is?
Kitten:
Come again?
Me:
There’s plenty of coming. Trust me.
Kitten:
LMAO. I guess we’re skipping right past good morning then. Are you still drunk?
Kitten:
As for a time check, it’s been more than a minute but not even 12 hours since we last spoke.
Me:
Think of me as a friend in need.
Kitten:
Wow, dramatic much? Also, yes I have read some very spicy Why Choose books. But how did we get here before noon?
Me:
Call it research.
Me:
Have you read the one where a woman named Charlotte is being fucked six-ways to Sunday by three hockey players?
Kitten:
I mean, I did date a hockey player so…
Me:
You’re playing with fire, Kitten. I don’t share. But don’t think I won’t find a way to fill all your holes and tease you to the brink of no return while you beg for mercy—with a mouth full of my cock.
Kitten:
I’m sensing a serious case of blue-balls rage here.
Me:
I plead the fifth.
Kitten:
Stick with me, Daddy.
Me:
You’re not helping the situation.
Kitten:
The one in your pants or...
Kitten:
What are you doing today anyway?
I don’t get a chance to respond because I notice Chiara has returned and is now peering over to read my screen. I turn the screen black. A wicked smirk dances on her lips.
“Girlfriend?”
“It’s complicated.”
She lets out a derisive snort. “Standard with your type.”
“My type?
“Yeah. I know all about it. The too-sexy-with-too-much-swagger-for-your-own-good type,” she claps back, like she’s got me pegged.
“I’m not sure about that, but I’m positive your cousin is going to be pissed if we keep him waiting any longer.”
“He’ll live.”
“But we may not,” I snicker.
“Eh. I’ll handle him.”
I spot AJ as soon as we round the corner to the private booths off to the side reserved for VIPs.
His expression is impassive, but I don’t miss the hard set of his jaw.
Or the way he surreptitiously scans his surroundings for any imminent danger.
The guy walks around on high alert like a trained assassin.
No doubt a by-product of his family connections and the Rizzo shit he’s currently dealing with.
The next time he scans, his gaze lands on us.
He stands to greet us, and Chiara bounds up to him, wrapping him in a warm hug, one he returns with an affectionate squeeze.
The brief interaction momentarily softens his steely expression, but it’s back in place by the time we exchange a firm handshake.
Chiara slides into the booth and AJ takes the seat next to her while I sit opposite.
The place is packed for a weekday. A mix of professionals from nearby businesses taking client meetings, groups of women enjoying a post-workout brunch and the work nomads on their laptops, noise-canceling headphones firmly in place.
“Looks like business is going well,” AJ observes nonchalantly, though it’s a far more pointed statement. I follow his effusive lead and respond without giving up any information about our mutually beneficial interests.
“Every time I stop by the tables are almost full. It’s got a good vibe. It’s a place to be seen, but without the pretentious pricks.”
He hums in approval, but his gaze is fixed on the gorgeous redhead with big, blue eyes and high cheekbones approaching.
“Hi, I’m Lilah. I’ll be your server this morning.
” She’s professional and lists the daily specials off the top of her head like we expect of our staff, but I don’t miss the way her eyes roam over AJ with familiarity lingering behind them.
He orders and flicks his eyes up to meet her eyes, but his facade remains unreadable.
Interesting. I’ll table that for future discussion.
Then again, with his dark, brooding good looks and alluring tattoos, finding women to fall into bed with him is not a problem. His playboy status is verified. The ladies love a bad boy.
With our orders placed, his attention falls back to his cousin. “What time do you check into your hotel, Chi?” he asks, fishing for details.
Taking a drink of water and clearing her throat before answering, she replies confidently but shifts in her seat. “Slight change of plans.”
“What do you mean?” His delivery is measured, his tone clipped.
“Well, you know my friend Arabella, who I met on that art exchange a few years ago?”
AJ and I exchange a look. Arabella Belmont’s reputation for partying as hard as she works as Head of Media, PR & Events for her family’s media empire is one thing, but it has nothing on her brothers, Otis and Angus.
It’s well known in certain circles—the ones that pay a hefty retainer to keep Vault Enterprise on hand for security and surveillance—that the brothers host underground sex parties.
Not to mention whispers of their dealings with Donny Rizzo, the figurehead of the Rizzos’ New York chapter.
“This better be good, Chi. I’ll have no qualms putting you straight back on that fucking jet and sending your ass back to my dad in Sicily. I pulled strings to get you here.”
“Please, AJ. Just listen. I’m not trying to cause trouble, I promise. Arabella is coordinating the entire event, and she thought it would be good for me to stay with her so I can give her a hand with set up.”
“What does she think you are, her lackey? She can fucking get someone else to do her gofer work.”
“No, no! It’s not like that!” Panic laces her voice and face now. We both know AJ will go through with his threat.
“There’s a chance some of my photography will be shown as part of the exhibition,” she says bashfully. “I know you think my little photography hobby is pointless, but this could lead to a big break.”
Watching Chiara try to justify herself reminds me of Sophia—not that she’s been far from my thoughts all day. I feel like she could use an ally, and I figure if she sees one in me, maybe she won’t try to fuck with me.
“Listen, I know Arabella. She’s a regular client of mine,” I say pointedly, to reassure AJ I’ve got the situation covered.
He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before training his hard gaze on his cousin.
“You better not make me regret this.”
When he looks my way, he lifts his eyebrows almost to his hairline, telling me that was as much a warning to me as it was for Chiara.
Our orders arrive and the tension dissipates as the two cousins catch up on what’s been happening. Chiara regales us with stories of all her antics to ensure this trip to New York happened on her terms.
AJ insists on picking up the tab, pulling out a wad of cash to cover our meals and a generous tip for our waitress.
I don’t miss the way he makes full eye contact and his thumb strokes the top of her hand as he presses the wad of cash in her hand.
I ponder what to make of it as I move towards the underground parking lot.
“Wait! Can one of you come outside with me and take a photo of my outfit for my Instagram feed? Pretty please? I love the industrial feel of The Meatpacking District.” She looks at AJ, and he just flicks his head in a go on motion.
Chiara saunters to the front door, turning heads as she goes.
There’s no denying her beauty or charisma.
She’s going to give some poor bastard a run for his money one day.
Right now the unlucky bastard is her cousin, who she’s roped in to take photographs of her in various poses.
I follow along closely, trying hard not to laugh at the sight of the tough mobster being schooled by the pint-sized style queen on how to get the shot.
A high-pitched yelp snags my attention, and I close the distance just in time to save Chiara from face-planting on the slippery sidewalk.
I quickly pull her into my body, and she automatically wraps her arms around my waist in a hug.
Clinging on tightly with the side of her face pressed to my chest, her voice comes out high-pitched.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The affection startles me, and not sure what do with my hands, I rest them on her shoulders.
Clinging to the front of my shirt, she steps back slightly and cranes her neck to look up at me.
“Oh my God! I swear I just saw my life flash before me! Imagine if I ruined my face before the art exhibition. Fucking disaster! I owe you.”
I keep my hands on her shoulders until I’m positive she’s regained her footing. A deep laugh booms from behind us. We look over to where AJ is flicking through the pics on the phone. He finally meets Chiara’s annoyed glare.
“Well, cuz, I got you that money shot for the Gram.”