Chapter Ten
chapter ten
CAIO
Marvin prowls around the balcony that leads off of my living room. I click my fingers at him through the open doors.
“Come on, Marv.” The shit disturber never comes over when I’m here. I’m the one leaving him food, but does he show me any gratitude? No. He just wolfs down all the biscuits I leave for him when I’m not around.
I give up and put the box of food back on the counter before making myself a coffee.
Double shot. I slept like a rock last night, but still managed to wake up with a pounding headache. It feels like I got socked in the head with a baseball bat.
I was working late last night, trying to catch up on some of the work that’s slipped away from me in the time I’ve spent doing anything but my job the last few days, like spending time with a certain brunette. But Rafael interrupted those plans when he showed up with a bottle of whiskey and a frown on his face. I couldn’t turn him away, but on second thought, maybe I should’ve picked a lighter drink.
I flop onto the couch with my coffee and reach for the tv remote. I need to watch some mindless shit to distract my brain from the fact that it feels like it’s knocking around up there. God, I haven’t had a hangover this bad in years. I also haven’t drunk that much in years. For so long, I was so focused on this business that I just didn’t have the time to let loose. No matter how many times Marina tried to haul my ass down to the bar for karaoke nights, I didn’t have time. I didn’t make the time. Sometimes I think about all that I’ve missed over the years. Now that this place is established, I let them drag me out every so often. At twenty-eight you’d think my body would be better equipped to handle a drink, but apparently not after downing the entire bottle Raf brought over.
A buzz on my intercom interrupts my channel surfing. Whoever is pushing the button doesn’t understand that they’re supposed to speak when they press it down.
I wander over to the speaker to hear a little better. “Wha—“ “Fucki—“ “Wrong with this thing?” Isla’s frustrated voice cuts in and out of the speaker. Shaking my head, I smile to myself and press the button to let her up.
I’m sitting on a stool with my legs under the kitchen counter when she finally walks in. Her eyes take in her surroundings like she’s in heaven.
She walks slowly with careful feet and keeps her hands tucked at her sides, as if to make sure she doesn’t reach out and touch anything. She looks like a kid at a museum. She’s so enraptured in the space that she hasn’t even noticed me yet.
“Hey.”
“Holy shit!” She jumps as she turns to see me in the kitchen, her hand flying to her chest. “Oh my god, you gave me a fright.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you not expect me to be here? In my house?” I tease.
“No, well, I did, but I thought you’d be at the door waiting to see who it was or something.” She’s still catching her breath, trying to play it cool. But even as she puts her hands on her hips, I see the way she’s flustered, and an evil part of me enjoys the shit out of it.
“Why? I knew it was you.” She frowns at me, cocking her head to the side in obvious confusion. “I heard you on the intercom.”
“The intercom?”
I rest my chin in my hand as I watch the realization on her face.
“The buzzer thing?” she asks, her eyes widening at the same time that her nostrils flare.
“Yeah, the buzzer thing. But it’s cool. Once you buzzed about three times, I could understand your language as clear as day.” I can’t help the way my lips curve up at the edges as a flush creeps up her cheeks. That might be my new favorite thing.
“Coffee?” I ask, letting her off.
“Please,” she responds. I start making her one on my fancy espresso machine. It’s not a necessity, but I hate instant coffee, so it’s a necessity for me.
She wanders around the open-plan kitchen and living space while she waits.
“Why don’t you have a dining table?” she asks suddenly.
“I never really needed one, and the couch works just fine.” That one’s not so much a necessity to me. I keep my attention on the coffee in front of me. I try my best to do a little flower design on the top like the barista that I am far from being. It looks more like a distorted squiggle by the time I’ve walked it over to her.
My stomach dips as I see Isla standing at the side table with all of my picture frames on it. “Is this your family?” She picks up the black frame that has a photo of the three of us when I was a young boy. The photo I keep at the back of the stack. I don’t like to look at it too much, but I can't bring myself to put it away either.
“Yup.” I pop the end of the word.
“This is sweet.” She admires the photo. “Do you see them often?” She swaps the frame with me for the coffee I brought over for her. Something about the way she’s looking at me over the rim of her mug makes me compelled to share everything with her. Her eyes hold such an innocent curiosity, so open to vulnerabilities. I look back at the photo in my hands.
“No.” I chuck the frame back on the table with a bit more force than necessary.
I’m an asshole. “Sorry,” I start, “I?—”
“It’s okay, I can wait.” She situates herself on the couch and kicks her feet up on the coffee table just how I do. She sips her coffee, seeming completely content to wait for me to explain.
This woman. Sometimes she seems so shy and other times her confidence radiates off of her, that sass showing up in full force. It’s frustratingly adorable. Unfortunately, this is one of those times, and I don’t think I’m getting out of it.
“Does The Marchetti Group ring any bells for you?” I begin.
“Oh yeah, they’re a huge hotel corporation in the states, right?”
Great, she has heard of it.
“My dad is the founder.”
“Oh, wow.” I watch her put the pieces together. “This place isn’t a part of that though, is it?”
I raise my eyebrows in response. “You could say that me opening this place of my own put some distance between us.” That’s enough of the story for her to get the picture.
She pulls her feet off the table and crosses her legs on the couch. “They aren’t proud of what you’ve done here?”
“I invited them to the grand opening, and let’s just say that didn’t really go down like a treat.” More like a complete shit-show.
“I’m so sorry, Caio. This place truly is incredible, and you should be proud of what you’ve created here.”
“Honestly it’s fine,” I say, brushing it off. Talking about this shit never does anything good for my mood. “I’m really close with Marina's parents, and her, Rafael, and Heath have become like a family to me. I treasure that.”
She smiles softly, but a hint of sadness glints in her eyes when she says, “I’m sure.”
She stands up off the couch and moves to put her mug away.
“I’ll do that.” I take it from her before she starts washing up in my house. I place the cup in the dishwasher while she lingers around the bench, looking like she doesn’t know what to do with herself.
Before I can fill the silence between us, a soft meow echoes through the room.
“And who is this?” Isla’s voice goes high pitched as she crouches down behind the counter where I can’t see her. I round the corner to see Marvin rubbing up against Isla’s outstretched hand.
The little prick. I swear the cat glares at me before he faces Isla again for more affection. The little shit knows exactly what he’s doing. And what is he doing meowing? He doesn’t meow. I’ve never even heard a peep out of him.
“Marina mentioned you had a stray,” she says. She can’t take her eyes off of him. “He’s adorable.”
“Oh yeah, he’s the best.” If she notices the tone of sarcasm laced in that sentence, she doesn’t mention it.
The cat finally makes his departure, but not without pinning me with a deadly case of side eye as he walks past me. I swear he’s some reincarnated spirit that I pissed off in a past life who’s come back just to taunt me through a fucking alley cat.
“So, I actually came to give you something.” She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out an envelope before sliding it across the bench to me. I already know what it is before opening it, but I do anyway, and as suspected, a wad of cash sits nestled inside. “Isla?—“
“It’s only the tips.” She raises her hands. “I knew you’d never accept my full wage, so it’s just anything extra May and I made last night.”
She sits with her elbows resting on the bench, keeping her hands busy by fiddling with the long strands of her hair.
I slide the envelope back over to her. “No.”
“Caio—“
“No, I’m not going to take your money, Isla.”
“You can’t just let us live here rent free forever.” She pins me with her serious face and slides the envelope over the bench again. I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off before I can get any words out.
“You won’t.” She frees one hand to point a demanding finger at me, the other is still twirling in her hair, it must be cutting off the circulation in her finger at this point.
“I don’t want your money.” I come around the side of the bench.
She stands up and comes to meet me where I stand. “I don’t care.”
She looks up at me with those unyielding eyes. Her independence is notable. Most women I’ve been with have made it more than obvious that they’d appreciate my ‘generosity.’ So her defiance is sexy as hell, but something about it just makes me want to look after her even more.
I grab the belt loop on her little denim shorts and spin her around before picking up the envelope off the bench and shoving it in her back pocket. As I spin her back around to face me, her hands land on my chest to steady herself. It takes her less than a second to compose herself and look up at me with disapproving eyes once again. I raise an eyebrow in challenge.
I’m definitely enjoying this more than I should be, but she’s adorable when she’s stubborn.
She sighs in what I think is resignation before taking her seat back on the stool.
Good. I won’t take her money, and besides, her coming to the convention her first night here was payment enough. More than enough. Having her under my roof is just an added bonus to this whole situation.
Isla brought a sense of relief to me on Saturday night. Normally at events I am hosting I would be here, there, and everywhere, constantly checking on every aspect that could possibly go wrong. But Isla’s presence distracted me from any other concern. All of my attention was funneled into making sure the woman next to me felt comfortable. After all, she was practically forced into going to an event with a complete stranger.
Every time her smile made an appearance, I took it as a win. I didn’t check on one employee all night, unless you count Rafael. My headache starts up again just at the thought. She completely distracted the work part of my mind, and while I didn’t forget that it was my own event, I just felt at ease about it all. Which is completely out of character for me, but I don’t linger on the thought any longer.
“Okay, well, I should probably get going.” Her words drag me from my thoughts as she gets up and walks towards the door. “I’ll see you around at some point.” Her smile is almost timid this time. She’s crawled back into her shell, reserved once again, and I can’t have that.
“Oh, Isla?”
“Yeah?” She turns to look at me in the lift.
“Next time you can just buzz once.” I can’t help the quirk at the corner of my mouth.
She’s shaking her head and smiling at the floor as the elevator doors shut. God, she’s beautiful.
I turn to walk back to the kitchen, but my eye catches on something on the side table that wasn’t there before—the envelope.