CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jelly
“Can I help you?” I asked the woman standing at the reception desk.
“Oh, I hope so.” She had a big smile on her pretty face. “I’m here to see Paolo Lanetti?”
I looked at her. She was beautiful in a girl next door kind of way, with a nice body, long, shiny hair, and big, luminous eyes. She also had that way of holding herself that signaled money. Old money.
I swallowed hard and tried not to be upset as I returned her smile the best I could. “Did you have an appointment?”
She laughed. “Oh, no. I’m his girlfriend. I’m just here to surprise him. I brought him lunch,” she said, holding up a basket presumably full of food.
His girlfriend. My mouth had gone dry, and I was having trouble thinking straight.
And my heart hurt like it had taken a direct hit.
Just a week or so ago he’d cornered me at Sugar and begged me to have a monogamous physical relationship with him.
He’d said Carmen and anyone from the hospital never had to know.
He knew I didn’t have a boyfriend. He’d said he didn’t have a girlfriend. So, it wouldn’t hurt anyone.
I’d actually been considering it. That’s how attracted to him I was.
He’d lied to me. I don’t know why I was so surprised. It always happened with men. Not that I had that much experience. But the two I’d liked so far in my life had been total liars. Add my disappearing dad into that equation and you were left with one screwed up woman.
“Let me call back to see if he’s available,” I said.
“Thank you. And what was your name?”
“Jelly,” I said, picking up the phone and getting ready to press the intercom button for his office.
“Oh, he’s talked about you!” She sounded like I was a celebrity or something.
“Really?” A cautious smile came to my lips. “What did he say?”
“Not much. Just talked about how funny you are and how good with the patients.”
My smile tightened, and I nodded. I pressed the button. “Dr. Lanetti?”
“Yes, Jelly, what is it? I told you just to come back…”
“Your girlfriend is here, sir.” I crashed the phone back into its cradle with unnecessary force. His girlfriend jumped at the loud sound.
“You can have a seat over there. I’m sure he’ll be right out,” I said, using my best receptionist voice.
“Thanks so much, Jelly,” she beamed at me and then walked over and sat in one of the chairs. I watched her, noting her perfectly appropriate sheath dress, hose, and taupe pumps. She had a matching purse. She already looked like a doctor’s wife.
I felt awful. There was a sick feeling in my stomach, and I felt hot all over. I could feel a flush crawling up my skin, from my chest to my face. I was jealous. I was ashamed. I was embarrassed. And I didn’t want to be feeling any of these things.
And the worst thing? I felt stupid. After Evan left me for the woman in the military, I swore to myself that I’d never let a guy make me feel stupid again.
So why was I letting Paolo make me feel stupid? We weren’t together. All he’d done is flirt his ass off with me constantly since we’d met, but hey, that’s on him.
I tried not to look up as he came out, but I was too curious. I glanced up as I heard the door open. He looked my way, and, for just a second, I saw a flash of something—maybe it was regret—cross his face. Then it was gone. He turned his head towards the pretty woman waiting on him.
“Lyla, hey. To what do I owe this honor?”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, stepping forward and accepting the kiss he dropped on her lips. “I just wanted to see you, and I thought it would be fun to have a picnic in your office. I know you’re always so busy.”
“That’s so nice.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and the two of them started back through the door. As he passed my desk, he glanced over. “Jelly, hold all my calls and appointments, please.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.
I could hear them talking as they walked down the hall. “You didn’t tell me Jelly was gorgeous,” the woman said.
“Darling, she has nothing on you.”
God. That made me feel about like Evan fucking me behind the bleachers where no one would see me with him and then taking someone else to prom. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the tears that were gathering there. I would not let this man make me cry. I wouldn’t.
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. What would I cry over, anyway? That he’d told his appropriate girlfriend that she was prettier than the skeezy hostess at the strip club? That should not shock me that he’d be so casually cruel. It’s not like we had a super sweet relationship.
“Honey, are you feeling alright?”
I looked up into the kind eyes of Cleo.
I shook my head, and she frowned.
“Yeah. You don’t look so good. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off? I can get someone else to watch the desk.”
I wanted to kiss her. “Are you serious?”
“Sure. Besides, don’t you have a date tonight for that fancy charity ball at Salazar Nights?”
I nodded.
“Well. We’ve got to get you feeling better for it, don’t we?” She smiled at me, and I thought again that she was just the greatest.
“Come on out from behind the reception desk. Get your things. Do you need a ride home?”
“No, I drove.”
“And you’re okay to drive?”
“Yes.” I gave her a hug.
Cleo’s eyes widened, and I realized I’d never given her a hug before. In fact, it was very out of character for me. “Oh my God. You really are sick, aren’t you? Maybe I should get Dr. Lanetti to look you over before you go.”
“No, that’s not necessary…”
“What’s wrong?”
Shit. I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice behind us.
“Jelly just looked awful when I came in a minute ago. I told her she could go on home, and I’d find someone to cover for her this afternoon.”
“What’s going on, Jelly? You’re not feeling well?” He grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. He studied me, a slight frown marring his handsome face.
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, pulling out of his grasp. “I just need to rest.”
He reached for me again, seemed to realize that his girlfriend was hovering to the side of him, and let his hands drop slowly. “Ah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, hope you get to feeling better.”
“Thanks. Well,” I turned away from him and Lyla and looked at Cleo, “if you’re sure that you can get someone else for this afternoon…”
“Go, go. Get out of here, honey, and go get some rest before your fancy ball tonight.”
I nodded, gave everyone a half-hearted wave and headed for the door. On my way out, I heard Paolo asking Cleo what ball she was talking about.
“Oh, that fancy one downtown at the Salazar’s club.”
“Will she be going to that?” he asked, sounding shocked.
“Of course! I’m going, too, and I can’t wait to see her date.”
“Her… date?” Paolo couldn’t have sounded less enthused.
“What, did you think she was going to go alone?” Cleo snorted.
“No. No, I just heard she wasn’t in a relationship, so I’m surprised she has a date.”
“A girl who looks like that?” Lyla asked. “She’ll always have a date.”
“Yeah. Yes, I suppose so.”
I turned to look over my shoulder, and my eyes locked on his briefly. I saw warmth there and something else I couldn’t quite define. I looked away, walked out the door, and shut it behind me.
***
Paolo
“This is so exciting,” Lyla said.
“Hmm? Yes, I suppose so,” I was looking around the huge club, designed to look like an upscale New Orleans-style speak easy with a 1920s vibe.
I was looking for Jelly and was decidedly less excited than Lyla.
Why was she excited? Weren’t all of these rich girls supposed to be used to charity events?
Weren’t they all supposed to act cool, calm, and collected at these things?
Lyla was acting more chipper and chirpy than Jelly ever would have.
Not that I could imagine Jelly being chipper and chirpy.
Jelly. She’d overheard me basically telling Lyla that Jelly was nothing compared to her.
Why had I said that? Why had I wanted to hurt Jelly?
Was I so cruel that because she wouldn’t sleep with me I wanted to trash her self-esteem?
Besides, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Lyla was a pretty girl, but Jelly was… magnificent.
And me? Well, I was a fucking asshole.
I threw back my whiskey and immediately tapped the glass for the bartender to refill it. “Would you like anything?” I asked Lyla.
“Champagne, please.”
I nodded, and the bartender pushed a glass towards her. I stuffed a couple of large bills in his tip jar and turned my back to the bar so I could better see the gala attendees. I scanned the room for her, but there still wasn’t any sight of Jelly.
“Do you like my dress, Paolo? You didn’t say much about it.” Lyla smoothed the material over her hips.
No. I fucking hated it. It was floor-length, with long sleeves, and a high neck. It made her look like a nun. Or a victim of scarring. Then all that fabric was covered in bright sequins strung together to form a fucking garden’s worth of flowers on her dress.
I thought it was tacky. “You look… very nice.”
She pouted. “Very nice? I wanted you to think I looked gorgeous.”
“You do,” I assured her, bending to kiss her cheek. She had her long, silky hair pulled into some sort of bun that was supposed to look elegant but instead reminded me of the elderly sisters at my elementary school back in Foggia.
And her fresh, dewy skin that had given her such a youthful appearance?
It was completely covered in tons of makeup. Like, a whole store’s worth. I couldn’t believe how much makeup she was wearing. She didn’t look like a clown or anything, but it was obvious she’d been heavy handed when she got ready today.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll please make your way to your seats, dinner is about to begin,” Gloria Salazar said from the dais. She rarely emceed these events, but this one was supposed to be near and dear to her heart.
In all honesty, I couldn’t even remember which charity it was for.
“Come along, Lyla.” I held out my arm for her, and we walked to the table number we’d been given. As we approached, I saw her.
Jelly.
She had just entered the ballroom. She was on the arm of Nico Salazar.
My heart plummeted. What the hell was she doing with him?
He wasn’t a good choice for her! But as I stood watching, I saw him take her coat and check it for her.
For a moment, she stood at the entrance alone as she waited for him to return. All I could do was stare.
She was breathtakingly gorgeous. Her shiny, black hair was styled in waves that flowed over her shoulders and down her back.
Her eyes were so blue you could tell the color from across the room.
And her fucking body. I wiped a hand over my mouth.
She wore a simple, beaded cocktail dress.
Simple, yet elegant. It was lowcut, but tasteful. Short, but modest.
It was, in a word, classy. I’d thought Lyla, with her old money background and her connections in West Bay, would look more like that. Instead, she looked garish, while the woman who worked as a hostess in a strip club looked like she should be on the cover of Town and Country magazine.
She was exquisite. And she was here with Nico.
He came back from the coat check and offered her his arm. She took it, and the two of them talked and laughed together as they were handed their table number for the evening.
“Paolo, you haven’t heard one word I’ve been saying.”
“Sorry.” I looked down at my date. “I was distracted.”
She twisted her mouth as she followed my gaze. “Yes, I see that.”
God. The last thing I wanted was for her to figure out how I felt about Jelly.
I knew I’d fucked up. I’d just been trying to appease the hospital board and my parents. I’d wanted to be with Jelly. But that wasn’t going to happen now. I’d made her think Lyla was my girlfriend. And I’d insulted her.
It seemed she’d moved on with Nico. I knew that fucker was into her. I wondered how he’d gotten around Carmen’s disapproval of any of her brother’s dating women living in Cinnamon House.
“Let’s go sit down. Maybe dinner will be good.”
We made our way to our table, and I pulled out her chair for her.
“Oh, it looks like Jammy is coming to sit with us.” Lyla couldn’t have sounded less enthused.
“Jelly,” I corrected as I saw that Jelly and Nico were indeed making their way towards us.
I briefly closed my eyes as Nico pulled her chair out for her. This wasn’t happening. They weren’t sitting at the same table as us, right?
But they were.
“Hello, Paolo,” Nico shook my hand, gripping it a bit harder than necessary. “Introduce me to your date.”
“I’m Lyla. I’m his girlfriend.”
Nico’s eyebrows shot up. “Girlfriend? Wow. Well, congrats.” He turned to Jelly. “I think you know Jelly Pinkoe.”
“You know I do,” I grumped.
“Hello,” Jelly said. Her makeup was perfect. Everything about her was perfect. She screamed class and elegance, and she looked exactly like the type of woman who should be on my arm at these boring functions.
“Jelly was kind enough to come as my date this evening.” Nico’s eyes locked with mine while he took a sip of his whiskey. That bastard. He was enjoying this. When he’d asked me about my date for this event the other night, he’d already known he was taking Jelly. The bastard.
“That’s, um, great.” I sounded as authentic as half the women’s tits in here.
Watching Jelly interact with Nico wasn’t great. Every now and then she’d lean over and say something into Nico’s ear, and he’d nod. They spent a lot of time laughing over inside jokes. When the hell had the two of them gotten so close? And when the hell had Nico Salazar started laughing regularly?
“Paolo told me that you’re studying to be a physician’s assistant and want to work at the hospital. I wonder if you and Paolo will be working together,” Lyla mused.
“God, I hope not,” Jelly said, tossing the rest of her drink back. Nico deftly grabbed her empty glass and replaced it with a full one from the tray of a waitress walking by.
Lyla and I stared at her.
Nico just smiled.
Jelly had the grace to look abashed. “Er… I mean, I’d hoped to branch out a bit. Dr. Lanetti and I have already worked together for awhile. I’d like to work with some other doctors, too. That’s all,” she gave a half-assed grin, and I wondered if Lyla bought it.
I sure as hell didn’t.