Chapter 29 Cole
Cole
“I’ve been here over a week. Where the fuck is Gabe Rivers?”
Theo’s gravelly voice came down the line. “I had it on good authority he’d be there. He must have changed his—”
Crackling filled my ears. I stormed to the other side of the balcony to pick up better reception.
“I can’t hear you. What was that last part?” I barked.
“His football team has had a big win. He’s probably got caught up in the celebrations.”
“Keep me posted on his movements. I need to know exactly when—” Crackling filled my ears again. “Theo? Are you still there?”
The line went dead. For fuck’s sake. The sun beat down. I unfastened the top button of my shirt. It was too early to be this hot. I hadn’t even had an espresso yet. Anger made my nerves raw. I was paying five grand a night for patchy Wi-Fi.
“Vatican City today.” Charlotte popped her head around the balcony door.
Her hair hung damp from the shower and a towel wrapped tight around her chest, pushing up her full, shapely breasts.
I fought to keep my gaze from drifting down to where the towel skimmed her delicious, thick thighs.
She moved to the balcony and peered at the impressive panorama over Rome.
This had to be the best view in the city.
The Colosseum and Roman Forum dominated the mosaic of terracotta rooftops and winding cobbled streets.
Her eyes filled with wonder. “You could stay here forever and never get bored. How am I going to fit it all in?” Her voice was bright. “Sure you don’t want to come today?”
“I have too much work to do.” I paced to the other end of the balcony, holding my phone up to see if any magical little bars of reception would appear.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Leonardo. Raphael. Michelangelo. Donatello. We’re talking about all the turtles in one place. Iconic Renaissance art and history at its finest. But why would anyone want to take time off work for that?”
“Because it’s inhumanely hot and overcrowded with tourists.”
“It’s not that bad. You can’t take a break?”
“I’m the head of the company.”
“So? Don’t you have minions?”
None that I could trust not to sell the company for magic beans.
“You’re on honeymoon. People are going to think it’s weird that you’re working.”
“I can’t afford to take time off.”
She threw her hands up. “We’re in Rome. You can’t afford not to. You can’t put a price on beauty, Cole.”
“Yes. You can. This suite costs five thousand euros a night. My work obligations come first. That’s the first point in the contract. If you want to go on more trips like this, then you’d better let me do my job so I can bankroll it.”
Hurt glimmered in her eyes. “Of course. Sorry I mentioned it. Do what you need to do.”
She disappeared back into the suite. A guilty feeling swept over me.
I’d been too harsh, but it was the adrenaline thrumming through my body.
Why could I never take time off without my company falling to shit?
I’d hardly slept last night thinking about her words in the hotel bar.
Everyone thought I was an arsehole, and I didn’t give a fuck, but it rattled me how much she despised me.
These past few days in Rome had lifted her spirits.
I didn’t want my shitty attitude bringing her down.
I dialed Theo’s number again. He answered on the fifth ring. Sloppier than ever.
“I’m in the middle of something,” he growled.
“Any security updates?”
“Stop calling me. You’re on honeymoon.” I could hear his disapproving frown in his tone.
“Answer my question.”
“For fuck’s sake. You’re going to make me lose the bet.”
“What bet?”
“I gave the two of you a year. Lucas said six months. Stop thinking about work or you’re not going to make it past a week. Lucas said your shareholders are grumbling. They won’t like you offering on this hotel—”
“What is Philip offering Gabe? He’s filled my company with moles. Maybe it’s time I returned the favor. I want eyes and ears inside his office. I’m sick of him getting the jump on me.”
Silence filled the line before his low growl. “I can’t help you with that.”
“Why not?”
“Because if we park the ethics to one side, you’re asking me to commit corporate espionage. You want to get yourself locked up? You don’t need to stoop to his level.”
Then what? Let Philip win? Not going to happen. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck. I needed to get out of this heat, and I needed a fucking espresso. “You used to get paid to blow shit up and kill people in Helmand, and now when I ask you to do something for me, you’ve developed a conscience?”
“Fuck you.” The line went dead.
Bastard. My heart pounded as I stepped back into the suite. Cool air and a hint of Charlotte’s floral perfume offered welcome relief. She didn’t turn around when I walked back in.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Nope.” She gave me an overbright smile. “You’re right. Work comes first. It’s in the contract.”
She propped a wide-brimmed white hat on her head and grabbed her sunglasses.
She looked like a Roman goddess in that yellow sundress, like she’d been born from sea-foam and had temples built for her and cults worshipping at her feet.
What would it be like to spend a day in Rome with her?
Hot and overcrowded, probably, but wouldn’t it be worth it to watch her face when she peered up at the Sistine Chapel ceiling for the first time?
Maybe I could go with her. Would she even want that?
I opened my mouth, but the words wedged in my throat. My father’s voice played in my head. Speak up, you stuttering idiot. Charlotte grabbed her handbag and slipped it onto her shoulder.
“Was there something else, Cole?”
Her expectant gaze made my heart pound. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Lucas again. What now? The office had probably burned down while he was photocopying his arse.
“No. I have to take this call.” I turned my back on her. “Have a nice day.”
In the suite, I video-called Lucas. “How many people are in this sweepstake speculating how long my marriage lasts?”
Lucas tapped his beard gently. “Ten or eleven?”
“You fuckers. Who?”
“I’m not a snitch. We can’t help it. No one saw you as the marrying kind, and your wife is just so . . . nice. And you’re . . .” He smothered a smile. “You know . . . you’re you. Reuben gave you the best odds. He thinks you’re going to go all the way. Till death do you part.”
Fuck Reuben. He’d probably be the one sending me to my grave.
Lucas chuckled darkly. “Look, I’m sorry. We’re just kidding around. Everyone can see how perfect you are for each other. We all see the way you look at each other. You two are the real deal. It’s very sweet. Everyone is very impressed. The shareholders have piped down. This was the right move.”
Fuck. Were we actually managing to pull this off? “We look sweet to you?”
“Yes. I wish my wife had looked at me the way yours does. You’re lucky.
We’re all happy for you, honestly. Enjoy your honeymoon.
Stop thinking about work and have fun.” He waved a chiding finger.
“And under no circumstances buy any luxury hotels until we think of a way to soften up the shareholders. You’ve made them happy with your new image. Don’t immediately fuck it up.
“The kids are asking after you. You should come over when you get home. Bring your wife.” He smirked. “That’s if she hasn’t already divorced you before the flight home. But please don’t let that happen, because then Olive wins the bet.”
“Olive?”
“Your PA’s assistant. You still haven’t learned your assistants’ names?”
Even my assistants were in on it. My teeth gritted with irritation. “You expect me to remember the names of the assistants to my assistant?”
“Yes.”
“You all need to get a life,” I said, hanging up the phone. And I’ll buy a fucking hotel if I want to.
I glanced up from my laptop to watch the sunset over the piazza outside. It was late, and Charlotte wasn’t back yet. I couldn’t get Lucas’s words out of my head.
I wish my wife had looked at me the way yours does.
It gave me a tense feeling inside. How? How had Charlotte looked at me at the wedding? Whatever goodwill she’d had then had evaporated on this honeymoon. Now, I was something to be endured.
I fired off a text to Charlotte. Where are you?
It took at least five minutes before she replied. The contract doesn’t specify a need for me to share my minute-by-minute location with you.
My jaw ticked. Then I’ll get it amended. Where are you?
The bar. It’s a vibe tonight. A lot of good-looking Italians down here.
You’re a married woman.
I’m just looking. Is that OK, or shall we get the contract amended to forbid eyeballs?
Jealousy coursed through me. She was taunting me.
I had no one to blame but myself. This was my own fucking fault.
I’d created this situation. I left the suite and found Charlotte sitting at the hotel bar.
A red one-shouldered cocktail dress accentuated her beautiful curves.
Her chestnut hair was straight and slicked off her face.
She must have come back to the suite to get changed while I was working in the restaurant where they actually had some decent fucking Wi-Fi.
I made my way over. “Hiding from your husband again?”
“If you met him, you’d understand.” She drained her glass and grabbed her handbag. “I was just leaving.”
“Stay for a drink.”
She sighed and traced her fingers absently up the stem of her empty wineglass.
Her face was a mask of barely concealed contempt as I ordered more drinks.
A grim silence stretched between us. Charlotte stared ahead at the bright bottles behind the bar.
She’d been to the Vatican today, and she still looked miserable.
This was my fault. I had to lighten the mood somehow and put this right.
“So you’re still mad at this arsehole husband of yours?”
She shot me a glance. “Honestly, I’m over it. I couldn’t care less about him.”
“Cole Thorner, right? I was curious about him. I read his Wikipedia page. There are a lot of factual inaccuracies.”
She rolled her eyes and twisted the corners of a coaster. “No doubt.”