Chapter 24
ALEX
Elise and Brooke are deep in conversation when I return to the airport lounge.
Our flight has been delayed by an hour, which is frustrating.
I’m not a fan of airports or flying, having spent most of my early years flying back and forth to the US for every holiday.
During one trip, my chaperone was hurt when the locker above us opened during turbulence, and a bag hit her on the side of the head.
I’ll never forget the stream of blood from the cut above her eye, or the screams of terror from the other passengers.
I shake myself out of the memory. It was thirty years ago, time to get over myself.
I half-listen to their conversation before deciding to tune them out. The guys ribbed me when they found out that Brooke was accompanying me to Italy, Dante being the worst.
“Remember, what happens in Italy stays in Italy,” Leo said, smirking into his wine.
“Haha,” I said. “As I explained to Dante, she’s closer in age to my niece, and I’m her boss.”
“I don’t hear anything about you not being attracted to her,” Orlando said.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”
They all chuckled, but it was Dante who spoke out. “You’ve made a lot of excuses as to why you shouldn’t get involved with her.”
“Exactly,” I said, pleased someone was talking some sense.
“But attraction, that’s a hard thing to fight. David will tell you that.”
I scowled at my friends. “I’m not attracted to her.”
Dante smacked me on the back. “Keep telling yourself that, old man.”
I growled at them all.
“We shouldn’t tease, he has Aubrey after all,” Leo said.
“The elusive Aubrey,” Orlando muttered. “He keeps us separate. Do you think he’s not proud of us?” he said, pulling a dramatic face and clutching his heart.
“Idiot,” I said.
I haven’t introduced Aubrey to the guys because I didn’t want to give her or them the wrong impression.
We’ve had fun, but I don’t see it progressing.
Once bitten, twice shy, as they say. I’ve done the marriage thing, and once was enough.
She’s been travelling and focusing on her career.
I have St Clair, my employees and clients to concentrate on.
It’s worked. However, the last couple of times we’ve been together, she’s dropped hints that at thirty-four, her modelling career is coming to an end and she’s looking to move forward with her life, maybe settle down…
I changed the subject, but it’s made me take a long, hard look at what we have.
It’s been fun, but if I’m honest, we’ve no real connection outside the bedroom.
The worst part is that the boys aren’t wrong.
I feel more for Brooke, who I’ve only known for a few weeks, and that thought alone scares the shit out of me.
But then, when you want out of a relationship, it’s common to look around you and see who else is available.
It is, after all, what Loretta, my ex-wife did.
She met Myles before we split, an ex-NFL player who became a sports presenter.
It happened six years into our marriage, when I was absent, caught up in learning the ropes and dancing to my mother’s tune.
My workaholic tendencies were already showing.
One night, I stood her up. Pissed off, she attended a party without me and met him.
Not that I blame her. She tried to make our marriage work for another year, but I was a shitty husband who didn’t fully understand her wants and needs, thinking only of myself.
When I finally let her down in the worst way possible, she left me for someone who did.
Our flight is called.
Due to the lateness of our booking, we’re flying first class. Not that I’m complaining. I want to get some work done and hopefully catch some sleep before we land. We’ve got a busy couple of days ahead of us.
I take the single pod by the window, allowing the women to take the two central ones as they’re both still talking.
“Champagne?”
I turn to find one of the cabin crew holding a tray.
I accept the glass, hoping to calm the churning in my stomach.
She turns and offers one to Brooke, who’s sat across the aisle from me.
“Thank you,” she says, earning herself a smile.
What is it about this young woman? She seems to have a positive effect on everyone she meets. Maybe it’s her Britishness, but somehow it feels more. She draws people to her. Yet I’ve seen her hold herself apart, keeping those around her at arm’s length, without them realising it.
“I’m going to be working for a bit,” I say, unnecessarily.
“Is there anything you want me to do?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. I have some emails to go over. Just enjoy the movies and get some rest. It’s going to be a busy couple of days.”
She should know, she set our itinerary.
Takeoff is surprisingly smooth, and I throw myself into work until dinner is served. I send it away, unsure my stomach will accept it, although I can’t ignore Brooke as she and Elise continue to talk animatedly throughout their meal.
After dinner, the lights are dimmed. Brooke disappears, changing into the pyjamas provided. Her flight socks peek out from under the bottoms when she returns.
She reclines her seat and curls up in it before pulling the flight blanket up and over herself and flicking through the movies.
Concentrate!
I refocus my attention on my laptop, realising we’re already two and a half hours into a nine-hour flight and I haven’t even noticed the time passing.
“Can I get you anything, sir?” a voice comes from beside my chair.
“Some water would be great,” I say.
“Right away.”
I look over the aisle to find Brooke watching me.
“You really should relax,” she whispers, scrunching up her nose as if realising she may have overstepped.
I chuckle. “I’m nearly done. Any good movies?” I ask, suddenly finding I’m not interested in work.
She grins and sits up, her hand going to the controller as she pulls up the menu. “What do you like? Sci-fi, thrillers, documentaries… romance?”
I close my laptop, turning to face her, for some reason pleased I have her attention.
“Sci-fi, or a thriller.”
“There are a couple of new ones.”
She reels off the titles. I remember seeing them advertised on billboards.
“Anything you suggest?” I ask.
“It’s been a while since I went to the cinema,” she admits. “But I’ve heard great things about this one. It’s what I’m watching. It’s a bit of a monster at over two and a half hours.”
She gives me the title, and I pull it up on my own screen. “I’ll let you know at the other end.”
She grins across. “Enjoy.”
The air stewardess takes that moment to return with my water. When I look back across, Brooke is once again watching her screen, the moment lost.
Two hours into the movie, I get up and head to the bathroom.
At least it’s spacious. When I return, Brooke is sound asleep, curled in a ball one hand resting beneath her cheek.
She’s a picture of innocence. The tension she usually carries is gone.
Elise looks up and smiles. I drag my eyes away from my sleeping PA, not wanting to look like a creep, and return to my seat.
Elise is forty-five and has worked for St Clair since she graduated.
She’s an incredibly talented designer, and I’m constantly worried about her being poached.
She was my boss when I worked in the design studio.
Now she’s a close friend as well as a colleague, someone I have the greatest respect for.
I glance once more across the aisle before finishing the movie.
* * *
When we make it to the hotel, Brooke checks us in.
“We’re all on the same floor,” she says. “Alex, you have a suite, as requested.”
I nod. It will make any meetings easier, should we need one. I don’t want us to be having confidential discussions in restaurants.
“We have three hours before we’re due at our suppliers, so there’s time to freshen up or get some sleep if you prefer,” she says.
Brooke looks refreshed. She slept for much of the flight, only waking up when they brought us breakfast. She turned it down before rolling over and continuing her nap.
I, on the other hand, spent the entire night, my mind whirring. Work, my mother… Brooke.
Did she set me up? When I mentioned Brooke would be my PA, she appeared shocked but then told me she thought it was a good choice.
Why was she so sure? I know she’s been playing matchmaker since Loretta left, not content with only one grandchild, but still…
Not knowing if I’ve been played is messing with my head.
Brooke smiles, her hand grazing mine as she distributes our keycards.
I tense.
Is it possible?
Her brows furrow as if she senses something is wrong, but in true Brooke style, she brushes it off, turning instead to Elise.
“Okay, let’s go,” Elise says. “My bed is calling. I can never sleep on flights, first class or not.”
We make our way upstairs. The bellboy had already promised our cases would be waiting for us. Saying goodbye in the hallway, I enter my room, throwing my laptop down before running a hand through my hair. Time for a shower and hopefully a few hours’ sleep.
* * *
Everyone is waiting in reception when I finally make it down.
Brooke, in all her efficiency, has arranged a driver to take us to our destination on the outskirts of Rome, where our supplier has one of its main warehouses.
We’re greeted by Tomasso, the owner and a long-standing family friend.
“Ciao, Tomasso,” I say, only for him to pull me into a backslapping hug.
He pulls back and grips my upper arms.
“Ciao, Alessandro, che bello rivederti.”
It’s good to see you, he says.
“Quanto tempo! Sono felice di rivederti.”
Long time, I’m happy to see you again, I reply, dragging out my rusty Italian.
Tomasso turns to the ladies, holding out a hand, his weathered face alight with pleasure.
“Elise, it’s lovely to see you again,” he says, shaking her hand, before turning to Brooke.
“And who is this beautiful young woman?”
His sparkling eyes meet mine. I can see his unspoken question, and I stifle a groan.
“I’m Brooke, Alessandro’s PA. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mr Esposito,” she says, holding out her hand.
His smile widens. “Tomasso, please. Ah, you are Brooke. Lovely to be able to put such a beautiful face to your name.” He turns to me. “She’s efficient, this one, no?”
“She is,” I say, really wishing we could move on.
Giovanni and Marco, Tomasso’s sons, come out of a side office to join us. He makes the relevant introductions.
“Marco, why don’t you take Alessandro and Brooke into the office and go through the figures?”
I bristle. Marco’s eyes have been trained on Brooke since he arrived.
“Brooke is going with Elise,” I say. “I want her to have a chance to see the fabric and sourcing, as well as carry out the audits we need.”
Marco’s shoulders droop at my words.
Brooke remains straight-faced. Is she totally oblivious to the male attention she attracts everywhere she goes? I’m glad Elise had the foresight to brief Brooke on the audit and quality standard assessments we’ll need to carry out while we’re here, taking on what would have been Nolan’s role.
Tomasso leads the women away. Marco’s eyes follow them like a lovesick puppy.
“Come on. Your papà has told me you’re now in charge of capacity planning as well as negotiations.”
Marco turns his attention to me. He’s about ten years younger than me, much closer to Brooke in age.
“My master’s in business has paid off,” he says with a grin. “Thanks for the advice.”
“I’m glad, and you’re welcome, although maybe I won’t be when we’re negotiating terms.”
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get some proper coffee and talk business.”
* * *
Four hours later, I catch up with Elise in the raw material storage room. She has some of next summer’s designs out on the table and is deep in discussion with both Tomasso and Giovanni.
“How about this? Is this what you’re looking for?” Brooke appears from deep within the racks.
Elise looks up. “Oh, my goodness, it’s perfect.” Her eyes move to Giovanni. “What do you think?”
“I think we’re onto something. It’s also available in multiple shades.”
Brooke grins, her cheeks glowing. She looks to be in her element.
“How’s it going?” I say, stepping into the room.
“Good. I think we’ve sourced the fabrics for next summer’s collection,” Elise replies.
“How were negotiations?” Tomasso asks.
This is the first time he’s trusted one of his sons to take the reins.
“Good. Marco drives a hard bargain, but we’ve come to an agreement.”
“And drunk copious amounts of coffee, no doubt.” Tomasso laughs.
“That as well.”
“It’s now lunchtime,” he says, clapping his hands. “No more talk of work. Now we rest.”
We follow him to the Rustico he’s renovated, close to the factory.
“How was today?” I ask Elise and Brooke as we get into the car.
“Successful. It helped to have Brooke here. You have a good eye,” Elise says.
“Thank you. I’ve always loved clothes. I used to design my dolls’ clothes growing up. Today has been amazing. I appreciate you letting me be a part of it,” she replies.
I stare at Elise, seeing she means every word. Interesting. Is there nothing Brooke can’t turn her hand to? Or maybe my mother is aware that she loves design, and this is her way of getting Brooke into the company without the qualifications we usually require.
Valentina, Tomasso’s wife, comes out to greet us, leading us to a table with a large spread of meats and salads.
“This is amazing,” Brooke says, thanking her.
I almost roll my eyes when Valentina sits next to her and begins questioning her in broken English.
Brooke takes every question in her stride until Giovanni steps in.
“Mamma, enough. Let the poor woman eat some food.”
Valentina places a hand on Brooke’s arm, apologising.
“Please, there’s no need. It’s been lovely talking to you. I miss my own Mamma.”
Valentina’s eyes soften, and something twists in my chest. I’ve not really considered her living in New York, miles away from all of her friends and family.
We finish lunch and say our goodbyes. Tomorrow we’ll be visiting the factory, so Elise and Brooke can conduct the necessary audits for compliance. While they’re busy, I’ll get to visit my younger sister, Gabriella, who’s studying for her master’s in Rome.