Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
E lisabetta
Liam has some gall to expect me to forgive him after everything he’s admitted to me. I feel like a fool that has been taken for a ride. Everythingabout my time with him has me confused and conflicted.
I lie in bed, and all I can think is that this was not how I'd expected our first night on this island to go. When Liam told me we'd be traveling to the Caribbean, I fully pictured us making love every single night. I wanted to be with him. I thought he was hot and funny, and he challenged me in ways that men normally didn't.
It wasn't that I thought he was the love of my life or that he was something so spectacular that I'd be sad if I didn't get to sleep with him, but there was chemistry, a connection that I thought was something real. Even if it didn't mean that we were going to be together forever or fall in love, I thought it at least meant something.
I’ve always craved connection. I've always wanted to meet someone who would make me feel like I was special, like I mattered. And I know that not every connection is a soulmate connection or one that leads to marriage, but it doesn't make it any less special.
"You're a fool, Elisabetta," I whisper to myself as I lie there. I can hear the TV in the living room. I wonder what he's watching, but I'm not gonna go out there and ask or look. He tried to talk to me over dinner, but I had no interest in entertaining anything he had to say if it didn’t relate to business.
I still can't quite believe it. He arranged with my father to marry me. Why on earth would he do that knowing how much I didn't want to get married, knowing how much I hated that I didn't have a choice? A part of me understands that he is trying to make things better for me, but it isn't better, especially knowing that the entire job was a farce in the first place. The only reason he even came to New York was to do my father's bidding, so ultimately, it doesn't matter if he came to marry me because he still came because of my dad.
I pull out my phone and call Skye. I know she'll be shocked and possibly hate him, but I just don't care. I need to speak to someone. However, when I call her, she doesn't answer. She's probably somewhere with Kingston, doing something fun, laughing, and enjoying life.
It is weird. She's been so close to me for so many years and we were both single, commiserating about our love lives, so I never fully expected that either one of us would actually get married—that we’d finally be in a relationship. And yet, there she was in love, and here I was in hate.
I decide to call Romeo, and I half expect that he's not going to answer, but I'm pleasantly surprised when he does.
"Hey, sis. What's going on?"
"How was the runway show?" I ask him, wanting to talk about him first because I know once I get to me, I'm not gonna be able to change the subject.
"Oh, it was absolutely fabulous, darling."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Oh, it was insane. I've already got offers to run in Milan next week. I mean, I'm not sure if I'm gonna do it. The pay is only $5,000 a day and?—"
"Someone's gonna pay you $5,000 for one day of walking down the catwalk?"
"Yeah, but that's nothing compared to what your dad gives me."
"About that."
"Oh, no. He's cutting me off. I told you he didn't love me like he loved you."
"He's cutting us all off."
"What do you mean?"
"Are you sitting down, Romeo?"
"No, but I can be."
"I think you need to have a seat."
"Fine. Hold on. I'm walking down the streets of gay Paris," he chuckles, "though I haven't met one good-looking gay guy that wants to be with me."
"I wonder why not."
"Because they're all dating so many fabulous gay Europeans. They're so much better than us Americans, you know?"
"Oh, really?"
"Well, maybe not as fabulous as me, of course. Okay, hold on. I see a bench. Okay, I'm sitting. What is it, darling?"
"Dad has no money."
" Your dad?"
" Our dad, Romeo."
"What do you mean, he has no money? He has oodles and oodles of money. He spoils us?—"
"Romeo," I cut him off, "Dad lost his money."
"What? You're serious?"
"I'm dead serious."
"Holy shit. So that means I'm going to Milan next week, I guess."
"I guess so. I wish I had that option."
"Oh shit, I didn't even think about that. What are you gonna do? I suppose it's a good thing you got that job with that dude. What does he do again?"
"About that."
"Oh, no, you slept with him and he fired you."
"No! Romeo!"
"Sorry." He chuckles. "You know straight men. They get some, and then they fear that you're gonna get feelings, so they run as quickly as possible. I just don't understand it."
"I haven't slept with him."
"Well, darling, don't because it sounds like you're gonna need that job."
"Romeo, can I get a word in, please?"
"Sorry. What is it?"
I take a deep breath. "He's gonna marry me. He's my future husband."
"What? Who's gonna marry you? Who's your future husband? I’m so confused here. Am I high? Did I take cocaine and not realize it? How did I not?—"
"Romeo!"
"Sorry, sorry. I’m listening."
"So, Dad hired Liam, my boss, to come over here and make my life miserable so that I would rush over to Italy for his ball."
"Oh, this sounds so The Young and the Restless ."
"What?"
" Bold and Beautiful ," he continues.
"What are you talking about, Romeo?"
"Oh my gosh, you need to watch daytime TV. It sounds like a soap opera."
"Oh, okay, I guess so."
"Or maybe Desperate Housewives -ish. No, you're not married, so it's not Desperate Housewives , but that show was fabulous! We should watch it when I?—"
"Romeo!"
"Sorry. I'm listening. So, Dad wanted you to get to Italy, so he hired this guy?"
"I don't know that he hired him, but there was some sort of business deal that they were doing. And anyway, Dad has less money than he thought he had, and the business deal wasn't gonna be enough, so I guess because of me, Liam found out that Dad was gonna marry me off, and so Liam said he wanted to marry me or?—"
"Oh, darling, does he love you?"
"No, he doesn’t love me. How could he love me? He barely knows me."
"Then why would that man offer to marry you?"
"I don't know, power over me so he can fuck me?"
"Trust me, men don't marry women just to fuck them. Well, unless they're Mormons. Please don't tell any Mormon men I said that."
"I don't know any Mormon men, and why would they care if you said that?"
"I don't know. I've heard that there's a lot of Mormon men in the closet."
"Romeo!"
"I know, darling, I'm sorry. It's just been such a late night, and I have been drinking. And well, your news has taken me aback."
"Yeah. I mean, you don't think it's taken me aback?
“So, where are you? Do you want me to fly over to New York and?—"
"I'm in Trinidad and Tobago."
"Trinidad and Tobago? Where on earth is that?"
"It's an island in the Caribbean."
"Ooh, fashionista, darling! You're in the Caribbean? What, are you on the way to St. Barts?"
"No, I'm not on the way to St. Barts. I'm…" I pause. "To be fair, I don't actually know where I'm going."
"Have you been kidnapped? Why didn't you?—"
"No!" I cut him off. "I'm here on a work trip with Liam, and?—"
"Oh. So, where are you right now?"
"I'm in bed."
"Please tell me he's not lying next to you."
"No, of course not!"
"Okay. I was about to say."
"He's in the living room on the couch."
"In the living room? So, what? You're staying in the same place?"
"Yeah, supposedly the hotel didn’t have any other rooms."
"Yeah, right," he says. "You just wanted to bow chicka bow wow."
"Well, that's not happening."
"Oh, shit, so you're pissed pissed."
"Romeo, of course, I'm pissed! He made a deal with Dad to marry me and didn't even tell me or ask me or?—"
"I mean, I'm not trying to sound like a bitch here, Elisabetta, but wouldn't you rather marry the hunky boss who you wanna fuck than some old dude with a wrinkly, shriveled penis that's like two inches when it's hard?"
“What?" Why does he always ask these creepy questions?
"I'm just saying. Who would you rather marry?"
"I'd rather marry the love of my life. I'd rather?—"
"Girlfriend, fairy tales don't exist. I hate to break that to you."
"Well, it exists for Skye."
"Skye got lucky, and let's be real, she barely knows that man. Let's talk in five years and see where they are."
"They'll be madly in love with a billion kids, and I'll be their nanny or something."
"You'll be a nanny?" He bursts out laughing then. "I don't see that lasting long."
"Neither do I, but…" I start laughing myself. "You know what? I was so upset when I called you, and I'm still upset, but I'm starting to see the humor in the situation."
"I mean, sometimes you have to make lemonade out of lemons, darling."
"Yeah, but?—"
"But what? Dad was gonna marry you off anyway, right?"
"Yeah."
"And wouldn't you rather it be to someone you find hot?"
"I don't?—"
"Darling, you forget you told me you thought he was hot, and I already know you were gonna fuck him anyway."
"I mean, okay, he's hot. And yes, I was planning on sleeping with him on this vacation, but?—"
"But what? So now you're gonna deny yourself because you're pissy?"
"No, it's?—"
"It's what?"
"It's just the principle of the matter. He went behind my back."
"He doesn't know you."
"Yeah, well, he knows me a little bit, and he knows that I would not have appreciated this."
"Well, he told you before you got to the altar, right?"
"Whose side are you on, Romeo?"
"I'm on the side of Dad continuing to have money so that he can pay us each month."
"Really?"
"I know, I'm being incredibly selfish, aren't I?"
"Yeah, you kinda are."
"I'm sorry. Look, I am getting these modeling deals, and I'm sure if I become even friendlier with the hoi polloi, I can get more gigs. If you want, I can get a cheap apartment somewhere and you can live there, and I'll give you money each month. I mean, it's not gonna be a lot, but if I'm making five, ten grand a month, I can give you a couple of grand."
"Oh my gosh, Romeo, you don’t have to do that."
"Sis, I love you. Of course, I would do whatever I can to help you. I mean, I may be able to give you more, but I don't know how this modeling career is gonna go, because let's be real, if I meet a hottie who wants to whisk me off to a Caribbean island, I'm going. And he doesn't have to be a billionaire to take me."
"Oh my gosh, Romeo!"
“What? I’m just telling the truth. I want to fall in love, as well."
"I know. Are we destined to be alone forever?"
"Darling, you have a whole fiancé."
"I have no ring."
"Well, then, make sure you get the best ring of your life."
"Oh, and how am I gonna do that? Call Dad and be like, 'Hey, Dad. Please make sure my fiancé gets me a big ring. That's the only way I'm gonna marry him.'"
"Um, you march into that living room right now and you say to your fiancé, "If you want me, you better put a ring on it. And I'm talking like a 5-carat rock that costs you a couple million. Maybe a pink diamond like JLo got from—who was it?"
"And we see how long that lasted."
"So, whatever. You still get to keep a five-million-dollar pink diamond. You know what you can get for that if you have to sell it."
"Romeo, that makes me sound like a ho!"
"So? What's wrong with being a ho? We are all hos in our own way."
"I don't think nuns are hos."
"Okay, maybe not nuns, but you're certainly not a nun."
"Thank you very much, Romeo."
"What? I'm being honest. Were you or were you not the woman who called me sobbing one night after you had anal sex with that rando and?—"
"Oh my gosh, I'm not talking about this right now." I giggle. "Really?"
"I'm just saying. You're not like an innocent queen or a princess who's never been touched. You're not pure as white snow. You have a history, and let's be real, you were gonna fuck this dude anyway, so have fun and get what you can out of it."
"I don’t want him to think I'm using him."
"Elisabetta, you just told me that he did this whole thing so that he can get a business deal. Literally, who cares if he thinks you're using him?"
"But I just?—"
"I know, you're not like that. You're a good girl even though I've tried many times to corrupt you."
"I wouldn’t say I'm a good girl, but?—"
"But what? I know that you're obviously hurt and upset, and I get that, but what's the ideal outcome from this?"
"I don't know," I say, shaking my head. "I just feel like a loser."
"Why?"
"Because Dad had to set me up to get married. I have no one. The man I thought may kinda like me was only in it to make money off of Dad."
"Oh, so you had feelings for him. That makes sense."
"What do you mean, that makes sense?"
"Now I understand why you're not in the living room banging his brains out and celebrating the fact that you'll be married to him for however many years the contract says."
"What?"
"I'm just saying. The only reason you're not ecstatic that he's the one marrying you is because you're upset, and you wish he was marrying you because he was in love with you or whatever happens in those rom-com movies you love with Kate Hudson and Drew Barrymore and Jennifer Aniston."
"Really, Romeo?"
"What? I'm not dissing you. I love them, as well."
"Well, I was not hoping that he was gonna fall in love with me, and I just… I don't even know how I feel anymore."
"You only have a few options here, sis. You can come and live with me, and I'll support you, but Dad will still be up a creek without a paddle. I don't know if you care about that, but?—"
"I do care about that," I say. "I wish I didn't because it's not like Dad has really spent his years…" I pause.
"Hey, you okay?" he says softly, his voice lowering.
"I'm fine. It's fine. I just feel guilty talking shit about him when he's been through so much."
"I mean, I know you love your dad, and I love him, too, in my own way. And I understand he was heartbroken when your mom passed—she was the love of his life. But honestly, he could have been a better dad for you. He shouldn’t have left you to do business deals in fucking Italy for most months of the year. Let's be real, he's not been a great dad to you."
"Do you think he blames me for my mom dying?"
"No, why would he? It's not your fault."
"I mean, that doesn't mean he doesn't blame me. Maybe in some sick way, he feels like?—"
"Don’t even go there, Elisabetta. I will go to the airport right now and fly to Trinidad and wherever and find you and make you see reason."
"I love you, Romeo."
"And I love you, too. You know I'm serious here. Whatever you need, I'll be here for you. I'll take care of you."
"I know. Thank you. And the same goes for me, right? You know that, right?"
"I do," he says. "So what you gonna do about this hunk of a man who wants to marry you? You're just gonna give him the silent treatment for the rest of your life?"
"No, I mean, I just?—"
"Speak to him," he says softly. "See if you can come to an understanding. See if you can have fun with it. Shit, get him hard as hell and have him beg you to make it real."
"He doesn't care about me like that."
"Honey, there's a reason he asked you to marry him, and I'm not sure you really know why yet."