16. Lift your mood
SIXTEEN
LIFT YOUR MOOD
Lake
“Alessio,” I say, “I was hoping to take my day off.”
He frowns as if genuinely confused. “Only two minutes ago, I wasted a fraction of the phone call educating one of my best employees about working either with me or for me. I thought you paid attention.”
“I did. Which is why I joked about being a pet and you being Noah. He works while his pet sits around or strolls up and down the beach. See?”
Smiling, he uncuffs his dress shirt and throws the cuff links into a deep green ceramic bowl on the desk. “You’re very cute, Ms. Wilder. You’re even cuter when you say no to me.”
The phone rings again, and an unknown number appears on the screen. Alessio holds the phone between his shoulder and ear, while he rolls up his sleeves. Instinctively, I want to help, so I take over with the sleeve and start rolling it up.
A mistake.
A huge one given my undeniable fetish for men’s forearms, the ones with corded muscles I can stare at as they flex and relax. Yeah, well, Alessio is a poster boy for gorgeous forearms.
“One of those luxury watch brands should hire you for a commercial,” I mumble while he’s on the phone. “I can see you on the billboard, dressed in a black suit over a black shirt with a million-dollar watch on your wrist.”
He’s engrossed in the conversation in French, so he’s not listening to my mumbling. Once done with the left sleeve, I slowly fold the right one, and while he’s still distracted on the phone, I take the liberty of grabbing his forearms with both my hands. I squeeze tightly, so tightly that it leaves nail marks when I release him and step back.
Oh no, what did I do? I’m shocked. Yet, I couldn’t resist. I had to squeeze his forearms.
Alessio hangs up and looks down his nose at the half-moon nail marks on his skin. “Pet, are you marking me?”
I better own up to what I did, or I’ll give away how attractive I think this man is. “Maybe,” I say flirtatiously.
“Since you’re not very good at taking cues from my moods, I have to tell you that if you cut me with a nail and I bleed, I’ll have you at the altar within five minutes.”
Playfully, I slap his chest. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“Being married to me would be anything but a good time, I assure you.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
He snorts. “I’m not, and I’m not seeking sympathy either, though thank you for giving it to me. I was stating a fact. I’m a difficult man.”
“Is that why you’re single?”
He nods. “That, and I’m picky.”
Damn. I shouldn’t have asked, because he picked me. “Everyone is flawed, Alessio. So you’re a demanding boss. Big deal. Most millionaires demand the best out of themselves and others. Nothing wrong with that.”
He comes closer…closer still, so I can either move back or remain standing. I chicken out and step away, but my bottom hits his desk, and Alessio presses against me. He thrusts once, a small, fast, but deliberate move that puts his erection on my lower belly.
With a refined, respectful, if edgy, approach, he’s letting me know I turn him on.
I respond by unbuttoning the second button of his shirt. I really like seeing the hollow space where his neck meets his chest.
I look up and swallow at the heat in his gaze.
“When you look up at me,” he says, “with your lips slightly parted and your pulse racing, what is it that you want?”
“I want to kiss you.” I rise on my toes, but Alessio is too tall for me to close the distance on my own.
“I want to kiss you too. Just not on the mouth.” He lifts me and sits me down on his desk, his hands lingering on my hips.
“Uncle, Uncle!” Leo shouts as he rushes into the office.
I slide off the desk, and Alessio and I separate. Flushed, I’m grateful this boy saved me from embarrassing myself. I tried to kiss Alessio, who’s interested in eating me out. I mean, I’m his pet, not a girlfriend he’d kiss on the mouth. Duh. I need to catch up with Alessio over here and stop making a fool of myself.
Thank you, Leo.
“What is it?” Alessio asks, an edge of annoyance in his tone.
“My airplane got stuck in a tree.”
“Unstuck it,” Alessio says, then winces, probably from realizing how annoyed he sounded. Correcting his tone, he says, “Give me the remote.”
Leo hands him the remote to the model airplane he’s been playing with and points to the window at the same time that Alessio’s phone rings. Again. My God, this man wasn’t joking when he described how hard he works on Sundays. He’s on call all the time.
It makes me wonder about the night we met, when I found him relaxing in a bar. If I remember correctly, the phone wasn’t ringing at all. Or it may have been ringing, but Alessio chose to ignore the calls. That night, I had his undivided attention.
It occurs to me that this is what I want. I don’t want to just kiss him. I want his undivided attention, because I remember how it made me feel, and that shit is addictive.
If he makes me feel that way again, I’ll crave it, which is why I must tell him no more often. Also, he has to stop flirting with me. Saying no to a well-dressed, gorgeous millionaire in his late thirties is a full-time job. And a laborious one, I might add. He should pay me for it.
That’s a bad idea. That would solidify the in-house hooker job I’m trying to avoid.
Leo makes a face when Alessio grabs his phone. There’s a moment when they lock eyes, and I can tell that an understanding of Leo’s need for time with his uncle passes through Alessio’s head, because he lets the phone ring, choosing the boy over the job.
Something inside me melts. Oh no. This melting is bad.
At the window, Alessio helps his nephew with the airplane, which is stuck in a tree in the front yard. I can’t look away because I think I’m falling for him. Actually, I’m skydiving for him without the gear.
Let me explain the difference between falling for someone and skydiving with no gear for them. It’s terrible to fall for your one-night stand because it’s just a single night, and you’re over it. It’s significantly worse now that my one-night stand is also my boss. That’s the skydiving part. It’s way, way worse when he’s the man I must betray. It’s the moment when you reach for the chute and realize you left your gear behind.
With a shake of my head, I move out of the office and toward the exit, only then remembering I slammed my forehead against the locked door. Again, I check for a bump. Nothing. It’s good to know I didn’t look like a deranged unicorn while flirting with one of the hottest men I’ve ever met.
I’m in the foyer when I hear Alessio say, “Oops, my bad.”
“No way!” Leo says. “You’re supposed to get it unstuck, not crash it into the sand.” The boy groans and joins me at the door. I notice how he doesn’t twist the handle but turns toward Alessio, who pokes the face of his phone. I hear the lock slide, and something beeps. It’s almost as if the alarms were on the entire time we were in the house. They were. They really were.
Alessio is no Val. When she’s around, everything is open, and people can come and go from the mansion. But with Alessio, the house feels different. I can’t put my finger on it.
Leo looks up. “Go ahead. We can leave now.”
Is it just me, or is this kind of weird?
Sunday is my day off. I should explain to Leo that I need today to rest and get ready for the week ahead. I should tell him how I like spending my days off catching up with tourists or strolling down the beach by myself. But I say nothing because Leo’s little hand slides into mine, and he faces the door.
From his spot in the office, Alessio picks up the phone with a wink at me. “Have fun at the beach.”
I gasp. This bastard crashed the kid’s model airplane into the sand so I’d have to take Leo with me to retrieve it. Now we have to get the airplane before someone takes it.
When Alessio turns his back to me and the boy isn’t looking, I lift my middle finger. A surge of freedom comes over me from that small, underrated, seemingly insignificant gesture that I swear by.
Lift your middle finger. Lift your mood. It’s that simple.