CHAPTER 6
Caroline
“Don’t be shy, guys.”
“Really?” Eyal lifts an eyebrow.
A bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label per their request and two bottles of Dom land on the table with finger food, fruit, and mixers. Their eyes go wide. That exact mix of disbelief and delight makes it worth every cent. I tip the staff generously up front. Tonight, the boys get spoiled rotten.
“I’m not going to tell Ethan or Connor,” I shout over the music so the other boys can hear me. “This is on me. You work hard, so cut loose tonight. We sleep till noon and circle back with numbers tomorrow afternoon.”
They erupt.
They deserve it. All three of them are sharp, relentless, and so easy to coach. Ethan and Connor really did me a solid favor this time, letting me use the three analysts in their retail group. They have been with me in London since Monday, and we have been very efficient.
We aren’t where I want us to be yet, but it’ll take time. I had underestimated the snake, George Rubin – I estimated him right, just the level of slithering, I hadn’t thought he would slink that low. No morals, nothing stands in his way of being a cheap fuck.
The club is packed, even though it’s barely ten on a Thursday. Heat. Bodies. Bass pounding straight through bone. Everything hums.
Maybe I’ll take the train to Paris tomorrow evening, stay the weekend and see friends. I don’t have plans, not really, but there’s an itch at the back of my mind, the sense that something’s missing. I can’t name it.
Whatever. I broke things off with Perry. All that’s left is work, and nothing tonight demands my attention.
I already had two glasses of whiskey, so I switch to sparkling water. Later, I will hit the gym, pool, and maybe a deep-tissue massage. I need something to unknot me from the inside out.
“C’mon,” Eyal says, grabbing my wrist, tugging me toward the dance floor.
“No, don’t worry about me.” I pull back. “Go have fun. I need to call my parents.”
He sighs and melts into the crowd. The music is so good but I don’t let go unless I’m with my people.
My parents. I still haven’t confirmed when I’m staying with them in Sonoma. But they’re in London now, only five-minute drive from my house. I should stop by after the gym.
My parents are probably watching TV now. That sounds perfect, actually, paying them a visit, sitting quietly side by side, the television as background noise and we don’t need to talk much.
I glance back at the boys already lost in their night. I slip out, let the boys enjoy their youthful, loud, and carefree evening.
Visiting my parents is a good plan… until I’m standing at their front door, digging through my pockets.
No keys. And my phone is dead, out of batteries.
I ring the doorbell.
Once. Nothing. Twice.
Then it starts to rain. Damn it, London. I ring the door again, again, and again.
Of course. They must’ve sent Fred and the staff on vacation since they are off to Sonoma in two days. The rest are at my place this week. My parents are probably in the theater room and can’t hear a thing.
I ring again.
The sky opens up to a full downpour. I already sent my car back for the boys. No phone, no Uber.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m soaked in seconds.
I give up on the gym, the pool. Everything. I just want to go home and straight to bed.
A taxi appears down the street, slowing. Relief hits hard. I sprint toward it, rain slicking my shoes.
I tap on the window, “Excuse—”
Its light shuts off and it speeds away. I just stand there, rain plastering my hair to my face. What the fuck is going on with my life? I throw my hands up, not for the first time today.
“Caroline?”
I turn. Stefano stands there, Edoardo beside him.
“Hey.” Stefano rushes over, lifting his umbrella over me. I must look like a stray cat.
“Thanks,” I manage.
“God, come on. Get inside.” Edoardo opens the gate. Apparently, I am literally standing right in front of his house. He waves us in.
“What are you doing standing in the rain like that?” Stefano demands, already ushering me forward.
Inside, Edoardo’s staff moves fast - umbrellas gone, towels pressed into my hands, warm and plush.
“Sorry,” I murmur. “I’m dripping everywhere.”
“Don’t worry.” Edoardo gestures. “Let’s get you dry.”
He helps wrap another towel around me and leads me to a guestroom for me to change. His hands are gentle, his gaze… something darkens in that look.
But my brain is fried and exhaustion hits fast. I follow without thinking. By the time I’m dry, changed into guest pajamas, and wrapped in a thick bathrobe, Edoardo is seated at the bar with hot tea and small plates.
He looks up when I approach. “You okay?”
He is quieter than a few weeks ago? I wonder. We debated a lot those weeks in San Francisco and he took every chance to be on my nerves.
“Can we sit on the couch?” I ask. “I’m wiped.”
“Of course.” He brings the tea himself for us.
“Thank you,” I accept the mug from him, cupping and letting the warmth sipping into my hands and the aroma filling my nose. It is wonderful.
Stefano joins us, pouring more tea.
“Where’s Gigi? I thought you were in Milan.” I ask.
“We were. We came here today.” At my look, he adds, “She’s out with Elena and the girls.”
Oh shit. Elena’s birthday weekend.
“You forgot you’re supposed to be at Elena’s birthday tomorrow, didn’t you?” Stefano laughs.
“Long week,” I mutter. “Disastrous day and even more disastrous evening.” I add. “Work’s eating my brain.”
“I heard,” Stefano says gently. “Gigi told me.”
“Where were you coming from?” Edoardo asks.
“My parents’ place. Right there.” I curl inward, soaking in the warmth.
“And you were in the rain because…?” Edoardo raises a brow.
“Forgot the keys. Phone out of batteries. No staff and they can’t hear the doorbell in the theatre room.” I shrug. “Perfect freaking evening for me.”
“Oh boy,” Edoardo says.
“Yep.” I smile despite myself.
Conversation flows easily after that. I make a mental note to buy Elena a present and cancel Paris. Our conversation jumps to the topic of Connor and Celina. The boys are wildly entertained by how deep in love and how oblivious Connor is.
“Why is he fighting it?” Stefano asks.
“He’s not,” I say. “He’s just been single for too long. Someone needs to kick him.”
“How long?” Edoardo asks.
“Since college.”
Edoardo blinks. “Why?”
“Not everyone’s built for relationships.” I say easily.
“I heard you were the same?” Stefano adds.
I glare at Stefano for a second and shrug his question off. “Oh, Gigi the snitch. She’s basically my little sister. She plays Connor and me like a fiddle. Every time.”
I point at Stefano. “Treat her well. Or I’ll come for you.”
He raises his hands in another mock surrender. We laugh and talk more. But exhaustion wins. I can’t contain my yawns anymore.
Lucky for me, a member of Edoardo’s staff returns my clothes, completely dry. I thank her and head to the guest room to change.
“Could you call me an Uber?” I ask Stefano. “You know my address.”
“They won’t come in this rain for that short a distance.” He turns to Edoardo. “Can you take Caroline?”
“No, no. I’ll walk,” I protest.
“Not happening,” Stefano says. “You’re exhausted.”
“You mean I look awful.” I scoff.
“No Italian would ever say that,” he snorts. “Edoardo’s driver is here. And don’t fight.”
Five minutes later, I’m in the backseat with Edoardo. A quiet ride home.
I wake the next morning at ten, my purse on the nightstand and next to it, my phone charged. I don’t remember anything about my ride home or how I got into my house and into my bed.