Chapter 5 Naomi
I blink several times. “What?”
He presses his back into his seat and looks ahead, stretching his long legs in front of him.
“Come on. I can see into your bedroom, remember? The bookshelves are right across, and your copy of Pride and Prejudice has the focal spot on the middle shelf. I’ve seen you pick it up so many times. I recognize the cover. Penguin Classics.”
It strikes me that he saw that, let alone recalls it. But the words he uttered have me up in arms.
“Wickham? You seriously think I’d fall for Wickham? You think I don’t have any brains or what?”
“Elizabeth did.”
He has the audacity to shrug as he says this.
I have to defend my all-time favorite heroine. “Well, at the time, Darcy was no prize, either.”
He tsks now.
Seriously? “Do you even know what you’re talking about?”
“I don’t have an opinion on something I know nothing about, Naomi.”
I frown. “How do you even happen to know Pride and Prejudice ?”
“Read it.”
“You? Read?” It sounds bitchy, but I never saw any books in his bedroom.
“I minored in English at college.”
I know he has an MBA. I always assumed he studied something business-related as an undergrad, too.
I’m still not over the shock. “You read Austen for that?”
He nods. “And all the other canonical literature.”
Color me impressed. And crushing a tad more, if that were possible. There’s something about a man who isn’t afraid of books and their content.
“Elizabeth did find Wickham attractive. You can’t deny it.”
There he goes again with the slander.
“Darcy behaved like an ass with her.”
“Darcy always had the superpower.”
“Like what? He’s rich?”
He smiles. “No. Being rich, that’s Batman’s superpower.”
I can’t believe he’s quoting from a terrible Justice League flick now. But we still have irons in the fire, and I’m not giving up this easily.
“So, what’s his superpower, then?”
“He’s a patient man.”
I narrow my eyes. “Huh?”
“He never gave up on Elizabeth even when she rejected him.”
I’ve read that book dozens of times. How come I never thought of it that way? It pains me to admit he is right, but he is. And he knows this. When I glance at him, it’s to find his body angled my way, a little smile on his beautiful mouth.
“Patience is his superpower. It’s the case for all of them.”
What’s he going on about now? “All of them who?”
“Austen’s heroes.”
I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact he knows about books, let alone the classics. Valentino always struck me as a man who’d have eclectic tastes. Women, rich scotch maybe. Soft jazz for music?
“Wentworth in Persuasion . Ferrars and especially Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility . And let’s not forget the most patient of them all, Mr. Knightley from Emma .”
With this, he pulls me into a discussion about Austen’s heroes and the women they fall for.
I don’t realize the plane has landed until there’s a flight attendant coming down the aisles and guiding us to disembark.
I blink. Did I just have hours of effortless banter about classical literature with Valentino Andretti?
With reality settling back in, I remember who I am dealing with. I work in politics, which means I hear things. A lot of things. Never mind what my father has told me about the unsavory dealings going on next door in the Andretti household—I have heard a lot about Valentino Andretti over the years. He’s taking over the family business, but he is already a fearsome character to begin with. There’s rumors he took an entire airline company to the ground because he disliked a trip he took with them. Most people gave a one-star review; he annihilated the whole company. And that’s just one of the stories going around about him.
I lose him in the crush of arrival once inside the terminal. To his credit, he doesn’t stick around or hover this time. Guess we’re both eager to get home asap.
Speaking of home, where’s Elliott, Dad’s driver? He usually has the Cadillac Escalade idling right in front of the arrivals exit, parked there as if he’s untouchable.
Instead, I see a black Range Rover in the spot, no cars except for yellow taxis around.
Guess who’s getting into the SUV? None other than Valentino Andretti.
It’s dark and the December night is cold and draughty. My long wool coat is no match for the gusty below-freezing wind. How much longer will Elliott make me wait? With every second that passes, my strength is ebbing away. I sway a little as I try to stay upright. My knees always turn to jelly after an anxiety attack. Along with the delicious orgasm I had on the plane adding to the energy drain, I’m going to slither to the ground sooner rather than later.
“Can I offer you a ride?”
I turn toward Valentino’s sexy gravelly voice. He has the back door of the Range Rover open, as if waiting for me.
It’s a split-second decision. I just spent four long hours next to this man on a plane. Nothing bad happened to me. In fact, he took care of me, in the most delicious way. In the state I’m in, all I want is to get home. That’s next door to his house, so basically, we’re going to the same place. It’s not putting him out or anything.
“You know what? Yes, please.”
In seconds, I’m bundled in the warm back seat as Valentino settles next to me. There’s no armrest between us this time, but he sticks to his side of the car.
The ride takes place in comfortable silence.
Hmm, I guess we’re going to pretend the orgasmic experience Valentino rendered was just par for the course. Fine by me. I have no words, anyway. I just want my bed to crash in.
Carlito, his driver, always being a man of few words as far as I can recall, doesn’t talk during the ride home, either. He reminds me of the character of Lurch from The Addams Family —scary- looking, but kind at heart and gentle in his ways. He’s always been there, and he’s always been nice to me.
The lulling quiet allows my mind to wander. Soon, it dawns on me little by little. Valentino will be next door. For how long, who knows? As a powerful businessman, Marcello Andretti was considered high society in the same circles my dad gravitates around. His son and heir will be walking the same paths, too.
Which means I’ll be seeing him everywhere.
“Are you attending the governor’s ball?” I blurt out.
Where the question comes from, I have no clue. Or wait, I do. Thinking of our overlapping circles brought to mind the masked ball to celebrate the upcoming New Year’s holiday. I can already picture Valentino in a dark mask. Not a stark one, but also not an embellished one like a harlequin’s. Something like a Venetian mask, maybe. Sexy. Sinful.
My soaked panties are now sticking even more to my pussy. At this rate, even the crotch of the jeans will be ruined.
The car eventually drives up along the streets of our quiet secluded neighborhood, full of winding roads lined with tall stately trees and an impressive array of large homes set back on two to five acre lots. Carlito turns into a circular driveway and comes to a halt in front of my front door. Before I can shrug out of my relaxed position, the door is opening and there’s Valentino standing by my side, giving me his hand to help me exit.
As soon as my feet touch the ground, the front door of my house flies open, and out comes a raging figure in a brown robe spitting out foul curses.
“What the hell are you doing with him, Naomi?” my father demands.
Before he can reach us and cause even more of a scene, I move away from Valentino and intercept my dad. I hope Valentino leaves soon, but he remains behind me while I’m pushing hard on my father’s shoulders to stop him from flying at him in a rage.
“I got a lift, is all.”
“With him? What was he doing at the airport?”
To his credit, Valentino stays quiet and lets me take charge.
My legs are growing weaker. I have no time for this drama. And no way will I let him know we shared the same flight.
“Well, you said no Uber. And Elliott wasn’t there. Valentino was also in Arrivals.”
“You could’ve waited.”
“She would’ve frozen on the pavement, Smith. Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t let that happen.”
I close my eyes briefly. Did Valentino seriously just imply my dad is senseless?
“We landed earlier than planned,” I say, trying to placate both of them. “Once we cleared the storm past Utah, it was smooth sailing and a quick trip. Elliott would’ve come at some point, but I was tired, Dad. I forgot my Xanax in my suitcase.”
Some of the bluster drains out of my father’s body. Thank goodness. He knows how much I hate flying and what it must mean for me to take a flight without my meds.
It’s easy to hustle him into the house at this point. I turn toward Valentino who’s still standing there watching us. I have a feeling he would’ve escorted me to the door, and is now waiting for me to go in.
I mouth ‘Thank you’ while I keep moving, not wanting my father to get riled up again. I receive a small nod in acknowledgement. As the front door is closing, I can see him turn around to head to his house next door.
A sense of warmth and peace flows over me in the vestibule. Damn, if I don’t pull myself together, I’ll end up in a puddle right here.
I reach out and hug my dad to me. “I missed you.”
I didn’t come home in the four months I was in Salt Lake. You couldn’t get me on a plane, no way. He’d never visit, busy political bee that he is, so here we are, seeing each other again after so long.
“Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” I start toward the stairs, suddenly remembering my suitcase and carry-on are still in Valentino’s car.
Guess he’ll have it delivered soon. Right now, I need to sleep.
“We need to discuss this, Naomi.”
Any other day, I’d do just that. Today, I don’t have it in me.
“Tomorrow,” I mumble.
I land in a pile on my bed, not bothering to get out of my clothes. My knees buckled under me and I knew they wouldn’t hold me up anymore. Sleep comes, but right before it does, I realize Valentino didn’t tell me if he’s going to the ball or not.