Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
L iam
“So Elisabetta, tell me what you like to do for fun.” She blinks at me as we walk down the street. “Did you not hear me?” I ask her, looking over at her slowly.
“I heard you, but this isn’t a date,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Why should I tell you what I like to do for fun?”
“Maybe because I'm trying to get to know you better as someone who’s your boss.”
“Um, I may not have worked before, but I don't think bosses generally care what their employees do, but who knows? Maybe I just don’t understand the working world like you do.” She pauses. “Tell me, Liam.”
“Yes?” I say, thinking she’s going to ask me what I like to do for fun.
“What do your other employees like to do for fun?” she says, and I start laughing because she’s right.
“I never inquired about any of my other employees’ extracurricular activities because, frankly, I don't really care.
“You're not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“Make what easy on you?” She shakes her head. “I don’t even know where we’re going.”
“We’re going to go to a place I call The Watermelon Hole.”
“The Watermelon Hole?” She looks confused. “Why have I never heard of it before?”
“Maybe because you don’t like watermelon?”
“I love watermelon. What is that, like a watermelon bar?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Have you ever heard of a watermelon bar before?”
“No, I haven’t, but I've never heard of this place. Why would it be called The Watermelon Hole if it doesn’t have something to do with watermelons?”
“Well, wouldn’t you just like to know?”
She rolls her eyes.
“So, Liam.”
“Yes?”
“What do you like to do for fun?”
I cackle then."I like to make love and?—”
“Oh, my gosh. Can we have one conversation that isn’t dominated by sexual talk?”
“I didn’t know you wanted to have a conversation with me that wasn’t dominated by sexual talk,” I say.
“Well, I do. I mean, yeah, you think you’re cute, and yeah, I know I’m cute, but if this”—she waves her hands back and forth—“working relationship is to work at all, then we need to have some common ground, and that common ground is not going to be how many words per minute I write, and it's not going to be when or if we actually do the dirty.”
“Well, okay, then. I like to read,” I say, surprising myself because I don't normally tell people that.
“You do?” She looks surprised.
“I do.”
“What do you like to read? Oh, wait, don’t tell me… steamy romance?” I stare at her for a couple of seconds, and she bursts out laughing. “Okay, I'm joking. I don't actually think you read steamy romance, but I have heard that it helps guys like you.”
“Guys like me?”
“You know what I mean.” She winks.
“So, what do you like to read? What's your favorite book?”
“Believe it or not, my favorite book is a series.”
“Oh, let me see if I can guess.”
“Okay.”
“Is it the Harry Potter series?”
“No, but I will admit that I did enjoy the books.”
“Me, too,” she says, nodding. “I actually want to go with Skye to Universal Studios so that we can go on the Harry Potter train.”
“Oh, yeah, I was just talking to my sister and niece about that,” I say looking at her. “I might try and fly them over and take them.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” She looks taken aback.
“You have a niece?”
“I do.” I smile. “She’s amazing. She's funny, clever, naughty… She’s living the childhood I hope my children will live one day.”
“You want to have children?” She looks at me, shocked. I burst out laughing then.
“Don’t worry, Elisabetta. I’m not asking you to bear my children.”
“Trust me, that’s not a conversation we would ever be having,” she says, shuddering. “I would never want to be the mother of your kids. I would never want to be your wife.”
“Who knew you were so old-fashioned?” I say.
“Who says you have to be married to have kids? I mean, I think it’s preferable for the kids, don’t you?” she says. “I mean, I get why sometimes it doesn’t work out that way, but ideally, I think it’s better for kids to have a mother and a father.”
I nod slowly."It’s true. It doesn’t always work out that way.”
“I know. I mean, I was raised by my dad, so I get it.”
“Oh, you were?” I look over at her. “So, your dad was a single dad?”
“Yep, my mom died when I was young, and he raised me.” She makes a face.
“Well, technically, that’s not completely true.”
“Oh, what do you mean? What part of that is not true? Your mom didn’t die young?”
“No, of course, my mom died. I mean, my father got remarried, and I had a stepmom, but she wasn’t like a mom to me. She did have a boy, though, so he was a stepbrother to me. Well, really, a real brother. His name’s Romeo. He's cool.”
“You have a brother named Romeo, and you didn’t think to call yourself Juliet?”
“I was already born, so no. I'm Elisabetta.”
“True, so, what’s your stepmom like?”
“Typical evil stepmother, was only in it for the money.” She shrugs. “I barely see her. To be honest, my three aunts raised me.”
“Your three aunts?” I frown. “I thought you said your dad raised you?”
“My dad’s a businessman and?—”
“When you’re a successful businessman, you kind of just work a lot. So, your dad’s very successful, huh?” I stare at her for a couple of moments, wondering how much she knows about her father’s business.
“Yeah, I mean, he paid my way through my school, he paid for my apartment, and he pays for me to live now. He also pays for Romeo and my aunts. He does really well. He's very rich.” She glares at me. “Far richer than you, I'm sure.”
“I am sure,” I say, nodding solemnly. “And what is it that he does for a living?” She stares at me for a couple of moments, and a puzzled expression crosses her face, an expression that I can't quite understand or read.
“It doesn't matter,” she says. “Did I tell you that I like painting?”
She ’ s trying to change the subject , I think to myself, and I wonder why. She’s volunteered a piece of information that I don't think she would volunteer unless she was feeling uncomfortable. She feels uncomfortable talking about her dad with me. I grow cold for a second. I wonder what she knows. I wonder if she knows anything or has any inkling, but there's no way that she can. There’s absolutely no way.
“What kind of art?” I ask her. I pull out my phone and look at the GPS. “By the way, just in case your feet are feeling tired, we’re about six blocks away.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “I walk in heels all the time, and I go to the gym a lot, so this is not hurting me whatsoever.”
“Well, I'm glad to hear that you’re in such good shape.” I wink at her. Mmeans you can last all night long.”
“Liam, I already told you we’re not.”
“Sorry.” I hold up my hands. “Just kind of hard being with someone like you and not making suggestive comments.”
“So, what? You can’t help yourself from making suggestive comments with every attractive woman you’re with?
“Um, that’s not true. Maybe there’s just something in the connection that we have that makes me enjoy teasing you.”
“Yeah right,” she says. “Anyway, I like to do watercolor, but I'd like to get into oil painting. I don't know why I haven't. I think I was waiting to go to Italy and train with some masters, and when the opportunity arose, I didn’t want to take it because I didn’t want to leave Skye, and I knew she couldn't afford to go and spend so much time in Italy. Now, I guess, maybe this summer, that opportunity will be there and—” She pauses. “I’ll have a summer of leisure, painting, dancing, and whatever.”
“That sounds fun. Is that something your dad is doing for you?”
“Yeah, my uncle has a place in Florence, and as you may know, it’s the heart of art in Europe.”
“I think Parisians would argue with you about that. They love art there as well.”
She shrugs. “It’s one of the hearts of art in Europe,” she says. “Anyway, it’s complicated.”
“What’s complicated?”
She stares at me for a couple of seconds and shakes her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“What wouldn’t I understand?”
“Oh my gosh, get the hint, Liam. I don't want to talk about it with you.”
“Oh, that’s all you had to say. So, you still haven’t told me your favorite book,” she says. “All we know is it’s not Harry Potter .”
“You were close. It's the Lord of the Rings Trilogy .”
“Oh, how did I not guess another man loved JRR Tolkien.”
“Well, he is one of the greatest writers to ever live.”
“I suppose,” she says. “I mean, if I'm honest, I couldn't get into his books.”
“So, what’s your favorite book?”
“My favorite book...” She stares at me. “Maybe Cinderella . It’s this cool little story about this orphaned little girl whose father marries an evil woman, and she has evil stepsisters, and she wants to go to the ball to meet Prince Charming.”
“Oh, and are you Cinderella in this story?” I ask her as we make a left.
“No, I’m not. I’m?—”
“Hey, watch out.” I grab her by the wrist and pull her towards me before a short little boy knocks into her. He stops and looks up at us, a huge gap in his front teeth.
“Sorry, I was just racing my best friend,” he says, giggling as he continues on his way. About five seconds later, a small, chubby boy comes running down the road behind them.
“Wait up, Evan! You’re cheating!” He stops for a few seconds, breaths deeply and shouts, “You’re cheating!” I look at Elisabetta, who looks at me and gives me a wry smile as he runs off again. I wonder where their parents are, but five seconds later, I notice a man with a dazed expression on his face hurrying past us with two Spiderman backpacks and a basketball in his hand.
“Welcome to New York, where the Olympics are held on the streets every single day. You’re okay, right?” I ask her.
“Yeah. Thank you for helping me avoid getting hit.” Her eyes twinkle as she looks me in the eye. “I appreciate it because I totally didn’t see that little boy coming, and he totally would have hit me, and I would have been on the street.”
“I wouldn’t have let you fall,” I say, my fingers now holding hers. She blushes slightly and looks down. The moment feels heavy, and I don't know why. I let go of her hands and take a step back. “We’re only about two blocks away now.”
“Sounds good,” she says, nodding.
“So, your sister… She’s married or?—?”
“No.” I shake my head. “She’s a single mom. She's doing the best that she can, and I try to be there for my niece as much as possible.”
“That's good,” she says. “I think it’s important to have family members who care and will stand up in a situation like that.”
“What was it like not having a mom?" I ask her. not knowing if this is a conversation she’s interested in having, especially with me, someone she doesn’t particularly like.
“It was hard.” She makes a face. “I was okay for about the first ten, eleven years of my life, but then when I started getting my period and growing breasts and liking boys, I had no one to turn to. My aunts were lovely, but they just weren’t interested in conversations like that. My dad was never really there.” She makes a face. “It was hard having girls show up in cute clothes, knowing how to do makeup and straighten their hair, whereas I just had to watch videos online to figure out what to do.” She blinks. “I mainly turned into a tomboy, but then I met Skye.”
“Skye helped you become a woman?” I look at her in surprise, and she bursts out laughing.
“No, I helped Skye with her fashion sense and she helped me understand what it was to have a friend who is like family. She is a really loving, caring person with a maternal instinct, which is crazy because she’s obviously not a mother yet, but she kind of took me under her wing. It’s weird because people look at our dynamic, and they think that Skye’s the one who benefited from our friendship because I have money, and I know how to flirt and all that good stuff, but honestly, I'm the one who benefited. I'm the one who came out a winner here. That's why I do anything in my power to ensure that Skye doesn’t hurt or have to go through crappy situations, no offense.”
“No offense taken.” I nod. “So Skye hated working for me that much, huh?” Hearing that hurts, not because it wasn’t by design but because I don’t want Elisabetta to think of me that way. I don't want her to think of me so negatively, but that had been the plan.
“I mean, yeah, you didn’t make it easy on her. You were a jackass, and from what I can tell, you were even more of a jackass to her than you were to Juniper and Lila, and I don't know why because she was just helping you and?—”
“Maybe I've just had a long couple of weeks.” I shrug.“Business has been rough. I’ve been trying to get some projects off the ground, and life has become a little more complicated because of that.”
“So tell me, Liam Gallagher, what are your business endeavors? I'm going to be working for you. Shouldn’t I know that?”
“Primarily real estate and vacation rentals and hotel groups,” I say, staring at her, wondering if I'll see any recognition in her eyes.
“Okay, cool.”
“In fact, The Watermelon Hole is a boutique hotel here in the city that I'm thinking about investing in, and I would love to get your opinion as a beautiful, intelligent woman with good taste.”
“You think I'm beautiful, intelligent, and have good taste?” She tilts her head to the side as if she doesn't believe me.
“I mean, you’re working for me, so yeah.” I don't tell her that I would like to get to know her a lot better, for multiple reasons. And none of them are work-related, though not’s quite true.
“Well, I mean, you’re not wrong, but what exactly do you want to know?”
“I want to know if The Watermelon Hole is somewhere you might stay.” I'm serious now. I do want her opinion. “I’m actually in the process of buying a hotel chain in Italy and Greece and possibly another one in the Turks and Caicos, and if I do, I was thinking about them all having the same theme, similar to The Watermelon Hole. I’d want to know what someone like you might think of such a thing.” I pause. "And when I say someone like you, I mean someone with impeccable taste."
“I mean, if there are going to be watermelons everywhere, that's a no,” she says, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “That’s way too niche. Especially for a luxury resort.”
“You don’t like niche?” I frown. Every market researcher at my company stated that niche was in and that watermelons represented bright, happy, and fun, which were qualities consumers were looking for when planning trips.
“I mean niche is okay for certain groups and short stays at Disney or something. However, clientele interested in going to the Mediterranean or the Caribbean are not that into watermelons. They don't want to be hanging out with watermelons everywhere they go. I mean, that’s just tacky.”
“Tacky? Well, I don't want to be known to be as the tacky king."
“Too late,” she says. “I think that ship has already sailed.” She smirks and plays with her hair. I lick my lips. I'd like to see her naked on my lap, smirking as I pull her hair back and watch as she sucks my cock.
“Uh-huh.” I bite down on my lower lip and run my fingers through my hair. I need to focus on the plan at hand and not trying to fuck her. While it is obvious that we both want each other, I know better than to actually fuck her. I’m not looking for that sort of drama in my life.
"So to be clear, The Watermelon Hole is not a good idea for a luxury hotel chain, unless you..." She frowns. "Are you listening to me, Liam?"
“Kinda...maybe I'm known by sexier names than the Tacky King.”
“Uh, I very much doubt it," she says, shaking her head. “Maybe grumpy asshole, but I mean, it’s not like I've heard anyone other than me say that.”
"I have another moniker you can give me."
"And that is?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know." She puts her hands on her hips and looks around. "I also don't have all day."
"You kinda do..." I reach over and brush a wisp of her hair away from her face. "You work for me now. I own your days."
"You own my nothing." She presses her lips together. "Get it right. Anyway, what's the other moniker you have for yourself?"
"Big Dick Liam." I grin at her and wait for her to blush and look down, but once again, she surprises me as she takes a step forward. She looks left, then right, and then runs her hand down my chest when she sees no one paying attention to us. My entire body stands to attention as her lips move closer to my ears.
"This is the only time you will hear the words Big Dick Liam coming out of my mouth," she says as she whispers in my ear, and her hand slides further down. I groan as she palms my crotch and leans against me. "It's not feeling that big right now, hon."
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into me hard. Her breasts crush into my chest, and my hand slides down her ass. I thrust forward so that she can feel my hardening cock against her stomach and grin as she moans slightly. I know she can feel me against her. Her hand is still pressed against my cock, and I let it jump forward slightly against her hand.
"Like I said..." she mumbles as she looks into my eyes. "It's not feeling that big right now, but I'll let you know what I think when I see it in person." She licks her lips slowly and blows against my mouth softly. "Because when the time comes, I'll be able to use all my expertise in evaluating little Liam," she purrs as she reaches her arms around my neck. She presses her entire body into me and murmurs loudly before slipping her hand up under my chest. "I'm so wet right now." She moans against my lips. "If we're not going to The Watermelon Hole anymore, do you mind if I take care of business?"
"Take care of business?" I raise an eyebrow at her. I can't believe how hard she's making me.
"I think you know what I mean."
"You want me to allow you to masturbate while on the job? Is that what I'm paying you for?"
"You can watch." She grins. "Might teach you a couple of things about how to get a woman off."
"Are you joking?"
"Cancel the typing test and you'll find out."
"I thought you weren’t going to blow me to get out of..." I grin as she presses her finger to my lips. "I guess technically this is not blowing me. So, where do we go?"
"Where do you want us to go?" She shrugs and takes a step back. "We can go to your place or mine?"
"Let's go to your place." I nod. "Let me just make a few calls, and we can head over there now." I pause as I realize that going to her place might not be the smartest idea. "Actually, let's go to my place. I quite like the idea of your juices on my sheets." I stare her directly in the eyes. "Where do you want me to sit while you're doing your thing?"
"We'll see." She winks and shakes her head. "I'm not sure yet. Maybe I'll have you standing by the bed. Or maybe you'll have to wait in the doorway. If you're lucky...." She lets her voice trail off. "Well, I'll save that secret for later."
"Fuck." I mumble under my breath. This is a bad idea. A very very bad idea. But I know there's no way in hell that I'm going to tell her no now. Elisabetta Franco is a bombshell and the most openly sexual creature I've ever met in my life. And I'm loving every moment of getting to know her better.