Chapter 21 Tommy
Tommy
Not being good enough for Giovanna, not being able to give her the life she deserves, is something that weighed on me long before Lorenzo’s rant.
But after the other night, waiting was no longer an option.
If I can’t give her everything she deserves right now, the least I can do is make a place she would want to come home to.
A place that is hers as much as mine.
I told her we’d haul the last of her stuff out of her parents’ house, but I was always bringing it here to Dragovari Tower.
But after Lorenzo’s little rant, I walked in the door of my suite and saw it the way she might: a bare-bones bachelor pad with a single couch in the living room and metal chairs around a card table.
I went to work immediately, making it worthy of her.
At first, I was just cleaning. Then one thing led to another, and by 3 pm, I was sanding down a battered coffee table, then patching scuffs on the wall and painting by dinner, then I decided the lighting was wrong.
Matti took one look and started calling in favors.
By midnight, I had a shipment of throw pillows, leather couches and a dining set brought in by staff, and the hotel’s electrician crouched in the corner expanding the wiring.
And I didn’t stop.
I lost my phone in the mess and didn’t notice the hours slipping by, didn’t hear it buzz until a notification went off when I was practically standing on it.
I grab it, realizing with a start that it’s been almost two days since I started this project.
I haven’t slept. I barely ate.
I start to call Giovanna, but a text from Lexi comes in.
Don’t think this means I like you but I
owe you one…
You owe me nothing.
Don’t be all weird, Tommy.
New Year’s
Eve, I was a total cunt.
You were.
But it’s done. I
fixed the mess you made.
Did you? Because Giovanna is out
on a date with Antonio.
So whatever you did, fix it before
she does something she’ll regret.
She’ll never say it, but she’s in love
with you.
You didn’t hear any of this from me.
Now we’re even.
Giovanna’s in love with me?
It feels like champagne is exploding in my chest. If she loves me, she’s truly mine.
Not just physically, but all of her.
At the same time, rage scorches through me.
If she loves him, what the fuck is she doing on a date with Antonio?
I call her, scanning through the texts she’s sent over the last 36 hours as the phone rings.
They range from flirtatious to concerned to confused to furious.
She thinks I’m ghosting her because of some bullshit Lorenzo said?
The call goes to voicemail, and I call her again.
And again. And again. She doesn’t answer.
Is she really fucking going out with him like we’re nothing, like the other night didn’t happen, just because I missed her texts?
We are about to have a serious conversation about how she deals with anger.
She can’t call Antonio every time I make her mad or I’m going to fucking kill him and spank her so hard she’ll be standing permanently.
I dial Vin’s number as I jog down the service stairs to the parking garage.
He answers on the second ring.
“Yeah?”
“What’s the 20 on Tony the Hack?
”
Vin scoffs. “Probably up Aurelio’s ass.
Who fucking cares?”
“I fucking care.”
“So text him.”
When I don’t answer, Vin sighs.
“Hold on.”
After a minute, Vin finally says, “Fucker is on a date. Some little restaurant I’ve never heard of in Brooklyn on the waterfront.
”
A fucking date.
I slam the car door too hard and rev the engine, peeling out of the space and out onto the street.
“Address.”
“Why?”
“Address.”
“Fucking. Why.”
“Business.”
“Don’t make a mess I have to clean up, Tommy.
”
“Address.”
Vin growls. “I fucking mean it. Do you hear me talking to you, Tommaso?”
“Si. Address.”
There won’t be anything to clean up. I’m going to get my girl.