14. Jones
14
JONES
My hips are sore. Hell, I think even my dick is at this point.
It’s been two days since the day in my penthouse with Capri and we’ve been fucking like rabbits everywhere since.
In the cellar room at Acri Rosso Vineyards.
Behind the little café off Cavour Street.
And multiple times with her spread across my office desk.
We can’t get enough of each other, using every waking moment to get closer.
After our cleaning and my venting, it didn’t take long before we were ready to quit the heart-to-heart and take advantage of our privacy.
I fulfilled my promise of dirtying her up—in more ways than one.
I think my dick has seen enough action to last me the next ten years.
I feel fucking invincible. Like I’ll survive the end of our arrangement perfectly fine. I did berate myself a little bit after she left because we failed to follow through with our plan to not share anything personal. She caught me at a weak moment, and I can’t find it in me to regret it.
It feels like a weight has been lifted.
Capri leaves in less than two days, our time together coming to a close.
Other than that one talk, we’ve steered clear of anything deeply personal again except for vague things here and there to keep the conversation easy.
I did my best to shift my schedule around to make room for Capri. Romeo and Luca have stepped in for me as needed. Today, however, is the one day I couldn’t escape from work, no matter how hard I tried.
My day is jam packed with supply meetings this morning and another with my financial planner, setting the business up for Romeo and Luca to run while I’m in the States for three months.
I’m in my home office, reviewing all the scheduled charters for the next couple of months. My goal is to cap us at the current amount we’re at to release any strain on the staff in my absence.
I rake my hands through my hair and take a deep breath. Underneath my chilled exposure, I’m tired and stressed.
It’s difficult to care for my mother while I’m halfway across the world. I’m constantly debating whether I should move back home and sell my father’s company or move my mother here.
Unfortunately, her disease makes it difficult to change plans. When dementia patients are already far advanced in stage, removing them from their safe environment does nothing to help them.
It only makes it more difficult and confusing.
My goal is to help ease her state of mind, not challenge it.
There have been many lucid times with her that I’ve thought long and hard about asking her for advice regarding my father. I just want to know if there was something I couldn’t see happening underneath his hatred for me.
I wrecked his yacht, yes, but is that really reason enough to despise your son?
I’ll never get the chance to ask him. It seems now that I’ve grown the nerve to ask my mother, I can’t guarantee she’ll remember the true reason.
Despite it all, I still fucking love him. Still want to do right by him. It’s why I can’t justify leaving Archer Chartering behind.
I’m a thirty-nine-year-old bachelor, tied to his past mistakes.
I wouldn’t call that a fulfilling life.
My thoughts circle back to Capri; her being a distraction I’ll never complain about.
I texted her early this morning and haven’t heard back. I don’t want to overthink it, but that’s unusual for her. Not to seem like a clingy boyfriend, I nonchalantly text Romeo to check in.
Jones:
You hear from Collie today?
He and Collie have been hanging out this past week. Unfortunately for him, she’s claimed to not be interested and is avoiding his desperate moves. Good for her.
Romeo:
Yes………
Annoying fucker. He’s gonna ask me why.
Romeo:
Why you asking, Jones?
Whatever. I’ve got nothing to lose.
Jones:
I haven’t heard from Capri. Just checking.
Romeo:
Sure…she’s sick. Collie left the beach early to grab her some meds.
She’s sick? Shit. I’m sitting here letting the day pass while Capri’s in her room suffering.
I don’t think, I act, grabbing my keys and rushing out the door to help.
We may only be in this for pleasure, but I’m more of a man than to let her suffer through sickness alone.