Chapter 4
ABI
What in the actual fuck did I just do? I ask myself as the room spins around me.
I seriously feel like I just punched myself in the head, hard, as my heart pounds in my chest while I wait for Lorenzo’s reaction.
Simultaneously, I’m clutching him all the tighter, mainly to try and not faceplant on the tile.
Beside me, I can feel him go rigid, and I know he’s probably thinking what the fuck?
Can’t fault him. I’m thinking that too. Did I leave my sanity in the Miami airport when I was running for our connection? Or maybe I lost it before then, at home when I was packing extra batteries for some bonus stress relief?
When the silence stretches past ten seconds, I nudge Lorenzo with my foot, smiling up at him hopefully while silently praying.
The look in his eyes is a mystery, and I cringe, half expecting him to blow everything up, when he extends his hand to Emily and smiles. “Lorenzo Toscani. It’s a pleasure.”
Emily takes Lorenzo’s hand like she’s half in shock, gripping his fingers like she’s wondering if he’s for real.
Fuck it, might as well roll with it at this point.
“You see, we’re here on our honeymoon too!” I gush, clasping Lorenzo’s hand and squeezing hard.
Go along with this, please!
"Congratulations," Doug says with a true smile, completely oblivious to the hurricane of craziness that just swept us away and out to sea with zero life vests.
“Right . . . yes, of course,” Emily says, looking us over. “Congratulations. But where’s the ring?”
“Lorenzo’s family offered us an antique set from his grandparents in Italy,” I make up on the spot, hoping Lorenzo’s still willing to play along, “but they didn’t get here in time for us to get them sized right. And we certainly didn’t want to risk losing such priceless antiques in the sea.”
“We’ll pick them up back home,” Lorenzo completes for me. He’s going along with it. For now.
"So, what do you do, Lorenzo?” Doug asks, already on the prowl for another possible sales opportunity.
“I’m a chef,” he says modestly. I haven’t had Lorenzo’s food, but Violet speaks of it as if it’s an otherworldly experience.
Doug frowns. “You do okay with that? I mean, do you have your own restaurant or something?”
Something flickers across Lorenzo’s face, there and gone so quickly I could pretend I imagined it. But I know I didn’t.
“No. I’m a co-chef at an Italian restaurant.” The challenge is thick, daring Doug to say something derogatory about Lorenzo’s role.
“Ah, well . . . good for you,” Doug says lamely, apparently deeming Lorenzo unworthy of a hard sale.
Emily steps forward, effectively putting herself into the middle of our group of four.
“Your husband?” She taps her lip with a manicured nail.
“I can’t say I’ve heard a thing about that,” she sneers with obvious disbelief.
“I mean, everyone heard about your brother and your best friend, and Courtney and Ross’s best friend.
But I haven’t heard a thing about Abi Andrews finding a man,” she accuses, “and goodness, wouldn’t that be big news if it were true? ”
“We’re keeping it quiet,” I say.
Unfortunately, at the same time, Lorenzo comes to my defense again. “It was rather quick.”
I look to Lorenzo, panicked, but he flashes me a sexy smile.
“It was a fast wedding because I could not wait to make Abigail mine, but we are keeping it quiet for now. I’m sure you understand how .
. . hmm, what’s the word?” He speaks perfect English and is setting Emily up for a shot, I’m certain of it.
I fall a little in love with him in this moment.
Okay, not love, but gleeful, spiteful friendship at least.
“Ah, yes, I’m sure you know how nosy some people can be. Abigail’s family is the subject of much unfortunate gossip.”
How does he know that?
Violet must have told him about how awful things were when the paparazzi found out about her wedding to my brother.
“May I help you?” the clerk behind the desk asks with a smile.
I offer her a thankful smile in return because she’s saving me too. “Yes, checking in. I have a reservation for Andrews.”
She clicks on her computer. “Of course, Miss Andrews. I have you in room six-seventeen. Will two keys be sufficient?”
Lorenzo steps forward. “That’s Mrs. Andrews. And yes, two keys will be fine.” The clerk is utterly charmed by Lorenzo, her smile wavering and then going megawatt as she hands the key cards over. “Shall we, mia rosa?”
What is he doing?
I mean, obviously, we can’t say we’re staying in separate rooms because that would be ridiculously suspicious for newlyweds on their honeymoon. But he’s acting like he’s coming back to my suite with me and Janey.
Where is she, anyway? Still exploring the bar? Or has she snuck out to wiggle her toes in the sand?
“Andrews?” Emily questions, still looking for weaknesses in this story. I wish she’d stop poking around because there are more holes in this lie than in a spaghetti strainer.
This one’s easy, though. I give her a hard glare. “Yes, Andrews." I emphasize the name, giving it all the weight of my father’s money and reputation. “I certainly couldn’t change my name to anything else. Lorenzo understood.”
He steps in closer to me, turning my face to his with a gentle touch of his palm to my jaw.
“I do not need you to wear my name or even my ring. I simply want you to wear my love tattooed on your heart, my kisses on your skin, and my . . .” He leans in, whispering into my ear, “My cock in your pussy.”
I blush, instantly hot and pink. And horny for Lorenzo. For what he’s promising, even if they’re lies he’s telling to save my ass.
My jaw drops, panting breaths passing my lips. He’s so close, he must be able to feel them because he gives me a smile of victory and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Soon, mia rosa. Tell your friends goodbye so I can have you.”
That was loud enough that Emily and Doug both heard.
“Uh, yeah . . . bye, guys. Nice to meet you, Doug. Good to see you, Emily,” I say automatically, even though it wasn’t nice or good. Mom would be proud of my manners.
“Maybe I’ll see you around the resort?” Emily says quickly before I can whisk Lorenzo away.
I fucking hope not.
“Maybe.”
But Emily isn’t letting go of this conversation just yet.
“You know what, we should all hang out! Doug and I have reservations this evening. How about you join us for dinner? We can chat, catch up, all that. I just gotta hear the story of how you landed this man.” She looks at Lorenzo and continues, “Abs and I used to compete all the time. It’s the kind of girls we used to be, but we were still friends.
I think we made each other better, you know? We have so much to talk about.”
We did not make each other better. Emily made my life hell, and if I’m honest with myself, I probably did the same to her to a much lesser degree.
Lorenzo looks at me, giving me a barely perceptible lift of his brow in question. When I don’t argue, he asks Emily, “What time?”
“Eight. We’ll stop by your room to meet you and we can walk down together. I heard that clerk say your room number. Jeez, there’s like zero consideration for privacy, you know?” Emily says nastily, as if she’s not the one using the overheard information.
Dammit. Cornered and trapped. “Well, maybe.”
“Okay!” Emily says, all fake cheeriness before smirking. “Till then . . . babe.”
Babe? Are you fucking serious?
I walk off, giving Emily a saccharine smile. Lorenzo follows me off to the side of the reception area before he pulls me to a stop. “You want to tell me what that was? I mean, I played along, but what was that?”
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Lorenzo,” I blurt, trying not to turn red and wondering again just where the hell Janey is.
“I just . . . okay, really fast. Emily’s pretty much my high school nemesis.
Major stuck-up bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone.
It just came out because I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of winning when she was looking at me like some pitiful lost dog nobody wants. ”
I think it took me exactly two point three seconds to say all that, and I can see that Lorenzo’s still processing all the rushed English.
Taking a deep breath, I pull on my big girl pants and continue.
“I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to keep this lie up.
I totally blindsided you. I can tell Emily it was a joke or something. ”
Yeah . . . and watch that bitch gloat for the next twenty years.
My heart seems frozen for a long moment as Lorenzo looks at me, and I can almost hear him telling me ‘no’ before walking off, probably calling me all sorts of crazy in Italian.
But then he smiles, his lips tilting up on the left side of his mouth like he’s getting the biggest kick out of whatever this weird thing might be.
“So . . . she’s the Inter to your AC Milano? ”
“Uhh . . . maybe?” I reply, not knowing what the hell he’s talking about.
Lorenzo’s smile broadens, and he takes my hand. “Then just for you, mia rosa, I’ll play along. And I can already see I’ll need to teach you about futbol if we’re going to make this believable.”
I’m so relieved that an entirely graceless laugh barks out. Without thinking, I throw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Holy shit, are you serious? I owe you big time!”
Lorenzo’s hands come to my hips, and he pulls his face back, his eyes twinkling. I’m reminded of the slow dances at Courtney’s wedding when I thought there might be something brewing between us as our bodies pressed together.
“Is that so?” Those words, in that accent, have me thinking all sorts of naughty things, wiping away the memory of him walking out of the wedding and replacing it with what he’s willing to do now to help me save face in front of Emily.
Heat flushes me, even if he probably doesn’t mean what I’m thinking, but if he wants me to ‘thank him’ on my hands and knees, I’m sure this hotel has some soft towels for cushions.