Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Ican’t believe I’m doing this, getting on a private jet with Alfie Giuliani.
The guy just told me he had someone’s head explode on him last night.
What the hell am I doing? All sorts of thoughts run through my mind.
He wants me out of his city. Is this his way of luring me away from civilization to get rid of me?
I’m not a stupid woman. I pride myself on making smart decisions, but this might just be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. It could also turn out to be the worst.
After speaking to my dad, hearing the worry in his voice about my mom, I couldn’t not go home and see him. I feel horrible for staying away so much, but it’s really hard to look at your mom and have her not know who you are.
Sure, she asks for me every day. But she’s looking for the young, teenage version of me, not the grown-up version.
As easy as I’ve tried to make my father’s life by providing all the care, covering all of their expenses, it’s not enough.
I can’t be there, though. I have to work.
I also don’t have the mental capacity to deal with it.
I know that makes me a shitty daughter but it’s the truth.
My father’s a saint. Not once has he complained about caring for my mom or ever alluded to the fact that she’s a burden to him. He loves her, and he’ll do anything for her.
A small tear escapes me and I’m quick to wipe it away. Not quick enough, though. Alfie reaches over the seat, grips my chin between his thumb and index finger, and turns my face towards him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re crying. That’s not nothing,” he says. “What did your father say to you that has you running home, Molly?”
“We’re not doing this, Alfie. I appreciate you helping me get home quicker than a commercial flight would get me there. And don’t give me that bullshit that you were already going to Seattle. We both know you weren’t. But this… We’re not friends. We’ve had sex a couple of times. That’s it.”
“Correction: we’ve had really great fucking sex a couple of times.” He smirks. “And we have a date Saturday night. We are friends.”
Another tear escapes my eye. I don’t like him being this nice to me. I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t want to like him.
Alfie wipes the tear away with his thumb. “You know I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“You can’t help me either way,” I whisper. “My mom is dying. She has a brain tumor, a couple of them actually. My dad is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he’s going to lose her and there isn’t anything I can do to make it easier for him.”
Alfie stares into my eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You know you don’t have to have the solution for everything alone. I can get some doctors in, get a second opinion?”
“I have the money and resources to do that. I have done that. It’s not new, Alfie. It started when I was sixteen. She had a tumor, got treatment, and it went away for a while. Now it’s back and there is no treatment.”
“I’m sorry you’re losing your mom.”
“I lost my mom when I was sixteen. She experienced a type of regression, memory loss. She doesn’t know who I am. She asks for me every day but she’s looking for a child. Not me. It’s why I stay away.”
He doesn’t say anything else. What he does is much worse. Leaning forward, he presses his lips to my forehead. Soft, tender, caring. Damn him.
“I like the other side of you better,” I mumble.
“What side of me?”
“The side where you like inflicting pain, not this caring, soft side.”
“There is nothing soft about me, Molly,” he grunts.
I smile. He totally has a tender side. I’ve seen it more than once. “Don’t worry… I won’t tell anyone. Wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation.”
Alfie’s smile widens. “No one would believe you.”
The car comes to a stop on the tarmac. I step out and stare up at the jet. “You know these things are the reason our world is more polluted than it has to be.”
“Jets?”
“Private jets.”
“Is that why you fly commercial?” Alfie asks.
“Not all of us can afford private jets. We’re not all trust-fund babies, Alfie.” I shrug.
He laughs and clasps my hand. “Sure, Little Miss Billionaire at twenty-five.”
Alfie lets go of my hand when we reach the stairs, moving it to my lower back and guiding me to go before him.
I turn my head, peek over my shoulder, and catch him looking at my ass. “You just wanted to look at my ass, didn’t you?”
“Anyone in their right mind wants to look at this ass, Molly. It’s fucking perfection,” he says without bothering to look me in the face.
Stepping into the jet, I pause. Hudson is standing in the middle of the aisle.
“Hi.” He gives me that devilish smile of his. One that tells me he likes to cause mayhem and mischief.
“Um, hi,” I greet him.
Alfie’s hand presses harder into my back. “Hudson, move out of the fucking way,” he growls.
“Well, gee, thanks for getting up at the ass crack of dawn and bringing me clothes, little brother,” Hudson replies with a laugh while stepping to the side.
“Here.” Alfie guides me to the back of the plane, where a set of four lounge-type recliner chairs sit facing each other.
“Good morning, Mr. Giuliani. What can I get you to drink?” a male steward asks.
“I’ll have a coffee, black, please. And she’ll have a cappuccino: oat milk, one sugar,” he says.
“I’d love a mimosa,” Hudson adds, dropping into the seat across from me.
“How do you know how I like my coffee?” I glare at Alfie.
“I make it a point to know everything about my opponents, Molly,” he says as he sits next to me.
“We’re still running with the rival thing, then?” Hudson asks.
“We’re certainly not friends,” I tell him. “I am sorry for lying to you, though, that day I met you.”
“No, you’re not.” He laughs.
“Not really. It got me what I wanted.”
“My brother?” He raises a brow at me.
“An invite to your mother’s gala this weekend,” I correct him.
“Has mom seen your face yet?” Hudson turns his attention to Alfie.
“Nope.” Alfie shakes his head.
“She’s gonna be pissed. You’re going to ruin the photos,” Hudson tells him.
“Shit, you’re right,” I agree. “Wait… Do you have a date for Saturday night?”
“No,” Hudson answers. “I don’t take dates to these events.”
“Care to make an exception? For me?” I ask him.
“Not a fucking chance in hell is that happening.” Alfie fixes me with a glare.
“People are going to be taking pictures, and you went and ruined your pretty face.” I wave a hand at his scowl.
“You think I’m pretty?” Alfie smirks.
“I mean, not anymore.” I laugh.
“You know… for you, Miss Olive, I think I can make an exception.” Hudson winks at me.
“And I can make an exception to the whole we don’t kill family rule,” Alfie tells him.
The two men stare off with each other before Hudson shakes his head. “Sorry, Molly, I like you plenty and all, but not enough to die over, and he’s serious.” He points a finger at his brother.
“He’s not going to kill you.” I roll my eyes.
The steward comes back with our drinks, and an easy silence takes over the cabin. And then Alfie leans over, picks up each side of my seat belt, and clips it in. My breath catches at his closeness. It’s a body response. I have no control over it. Alfie’s eyes meet mine and he winks.
“All secured,” he says, sitting back in his seat.
“You know, there is a bedroom. I don’t need to see this foreplay shit happening.” Hudson’s face scrunches up in disgust.
“If you think that’s foreplay, that could be the reason you can’t get a date,” I tell him.
“Don’t think I won’t rip your tongue out, baby brother. Don’t even think about her having sex, let alone talk about it,” Alfie adds.
“You do know you don’t own me, right?” I turn to face him.
“Don’t I?” he counters with a single raised brow. And then he leans forward and his lips press against my ear. “He’s right. There is a bedroom. If you’re a good girl, Molly, I can take you in there. You could join the mile high club.”
My pulse quickens, and my core tingles. What is it about this man that has my libido acting like a raving lunatic?
“Mmm, thanks for the offer.” Placing a hand flat against his chest, I push him back into his seat. “But I’m already a member of that club.”