Chapter Five
Claire
The heat of the espresso warmed the white porcelain cup that I held between my hands. It was eight in the morning, and the sun was streaming through the windows, illuminating the hotel café in a warm, morning glow.
My mind had been racing all morning.
When I entered my hotel room last night, it all felt like a dream.
A dark, unnamed stranger was sweeping me off my feet in Italy.
I could still feel his thumbs brushing my shoulder, the press of his chest against mine, and his warm breath against my face as he pressed his lips to my forehead.
But as quickly as the phantom touches appeared, they dissipated, leaving only the overwhelming feeling of stupidity.
I had flown all this way to handle business. To expand my career opportunities. To prove myself. And instead, I got caught up in the moment and completely lost track of the real goal.
I could have brushed him off. I could have focused. I could have gone to the host desk and refused to leave until Antonio showed his face.
What was I thinking?
I closed my eyes, trying to push away the confusion and frustration.
Instead, all I could see was him. That warm smile above a jaw that could cut glass.
Those dark, intense eyes seemed to be looking into me.
I could still feel the phantom warmth of his presence and smell the faint trace of cedar from his cologne.
It was like he had left a lingering imprint on me.
I imagined him standing so close, his eyes locking onto mine with that seductive glint.
I quickly caught myself.
He probably does that with every solo woman he encounters. He’s probably some sex-hungry predator. I bet if I was still here tonight, I’d see him stalking his next conquest in the restaurant.
I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, staring at the blank email I had been struggling to write to Brian for the last twenty-five minutes.
How do you say, “Hey, Boss! I butchered the shit out of this opportunity. But it’s kind of not my fault. Ish.”?
Just as my fingers began to type the greeting, a voice cut through the quiet that had been surrounding me since I sat down.
“Well, I should not say I am surprised to see you here. Should I?”
I looked up to see a tall woman standing before me—the scent of her Baccarat Rouge swimming through the air as a breeze from the open windows flowed through the room.
Black-framed glasses sat perfectly on her face, her enhanced eyelashes grazing the lenses.
She raised a meticulously arched, thick eyebrow at me.
She quickly pulled the chair out that sat across from me, whipping her long black hair to the side as she set her oversized Louis Vuitton tote down in the chair to her right.
“Excuse me?” I stammered, sitting straight up in my seat.
“The sticker on your laptop,” she said as she poked the back of my laptop screen with her long French-tip nail.
I stared at her, bewildered. Unable to speak.
She sighed with disappointment. “You are with Eastern Wines, yes? I am Jennifer. Jennifer Mora.”
My bewildered face did not change as she rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue.
“Prestige Wines,” she said dryly, tilting her head to the side and making a face that clearly said this dumb bitch.
My mouth dropped. “Shit,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
Her plump red lips curled into a smile. “Oh. You thought you were the only distributor coming here. Honey!” She laughed as she leaned back in her chair to cross her legs, a pristine black, red-bottomed stiletto heel dangling off her foot.
“I…wasn’t aware,” I said as I closed my laptop and took a long sip of my espresso, trying my best to act nonchalant.
“Where are you from?” she questioned with a smile as she crossed her arms below her breasts.
I could tell she was sizing me up. She was obviously enjoying our run-in.
I replied with a smile, “New York City.”
I tried my hardest to be polite, despite being face-to-face with the woman who was responsible for our plummeting sales last year, and this year…
and the subsequent budget constraints. This bitch is the entire reason I haven’t received a raise or bonus in two years.
She had been picking off our accounts one by one like a stealthy predator.
I sell one new account, and she takes two existing accounts.
“Native?” she questioned, her eyes squinting from behind her glasses as she baited me.
“Long Island.” I nodded back.
“Ah. See. I knew it.” She laughed gently as she raised her hand, motioning for the staff. “Hola. Can I get an espresso, please, a little milk if you have it? I like mine creamy…” she said with a wink at the blushing young man who was taking her order.
“And another for my friend here. She needs it. Perk her up a bit,” she said with another wink in my direction.
She dropped her head to look at me from above her glasses, uncrossing her arms and resting them gently on the table between us.
“Listen. I am not here to make enemies. I expect to see my competitors in the field. That is life.” She paused, offering me a reassuring smile.
“But you, Miss Long Island, you shouldn’t be surprised to see me here.
I am your competition, and this is our prize,” she said as she raised her arms above her head and scanned the room with her eyes.
“I expect more of a fight from a New Yorker. Even one from Long Island.”
“And where are you from?” I questioned, unable to stop my face from grimacing.
“Miami,” she replied with a smile, overemphasizing a y in the middle of Miami and showcasing her thick accent.
I nodded and took another sip of my espresso. The last sip, to be exact.
“I am surprised you’ve come here by yourself, Long Island,” she said as the waiter set fresh drinks between us.
“Why is that?” I said with a frown as I handed my empty cup back to the waiter.
Her eyes widened as she leaned in toward me. “Oh. You don’t know about what happened here?” she whispered.
I blinked at her, raising my eyebrows in confusion.
“Honey. Two young women…Americans, just like us. They went missing around six months ago,” she said, leaning back into her chair once more as she blew on the scorching espresso that was clutched between her manicured hands.
What the fuck?
I sat in disbelief; my face riddled with confusion.
Was she trying to scare me off?
She leaned in again, her eyes gleaming with excitement from the juicy news she just slammed in my face. “You googled this place, right? Let me tell you…they must have some surprisingly good PR dollars because I didn’t see anything about it till I was like five pages deep on Google.”
I sat quietly, sipping and feeling grateful to be returning home. Even if what she was saying was true, I was leaving.
“Wait, why do you have a suitcase?” she questioned as she tapped my bag with the tip of her stiletto.
“I’m going home today.” I shrugged as my eyes glanced around the beautiful room, just as elegant in the daylight as it was the prior evening.
Jennifer smiled, her attention turning to her espresso as she spoke. “Did you at least put in the work? Give me a run for my money?”
I looked down at my own espresso, quickly remembering how badly I managed to botch this opportunity.
Another opportunity lost to this condescending, self-righteous bitch.
I replied, “Nope. All yours. Antonio didn’t show at dinner last night. He ghosted me.”
Her eyes widened, jaw dropping in response. “No. Absolutely not! Put up a fight, honey. I am begging you!”
She set her cup down, the sound of the porcelain hitting the glass tabletop echoed through the room. “Listen, honey. I met with him the night before last. He is lovely. He gave me a tour, and I tried wines and gave him my whole pitch.”
Jennifer rested her hand over mine, her eyes locked in on me, her brows low.
“You can’t leave. I’m staying a few more nights, and you should too.
I don’t like to win like this.” She shook her head, and from what I could tell, she was being sincere.
“I’m not going to let you quit. We are women, and we look out for each other. ”
I shrugged as a ping of admiration for her filled my chest.
Sure, she’s a lot, and she has taken a lot from me, but…I think I like her.
“I don’t really have a choice. Budget cuts. You know…” I said back to her with a wink as I pulled my hands away, knowing that she would put two and two together to realize she was the cause.
She shook her head as she spoke. “Long Island! Call your people. Tell them you need more time. Get it done!”
And with that, she set her empty cup down on the table, stood up, straightened her red, hip-hugging dress, and grabbed her expensive bag.
She leaned down to my eye level, resting her hand against the table, and whispered slowly, “And for the love of God, be careful out here, Mami.”
I stared at her as she walked away, rounding the corner of the lobby toward the luxury villas just beyond the garden.
What the fuck was I supposed to do now? What shot do I really have at winning this account? Especially now that I know Prestige and Jennifer are here!
I closed my laptop screen and stared into the distance, my focus going past the windows and out onto the beautiful rolling vineyard.
Fuck it.
I was pressing Brian’s contact card on my iPhone before I could talk myself out of it.
Telling him what happened, letting him down after everything he has done for me…
I couldn’t fathom it. But I came all this way, so I had to try to salvage this.
Before I could take a cleansing breath, Brian’s phone quickly went to voicemail.
I mumbled into the phone, “Hey, Brian. Call me back. I have updates, and I need to speak with you…urgently.”
As soon as I hung up, I quickly realized it was the middle of the night for him.
Oops.
I threw my laptop into my tote and grabbed the handle of my suitcase, the wheels spinning frantically as I ran.
Hiding in the corner of the opulent lobby sat the inconspicuous wooden desk, surrounded by towering, ornate topiaries on both sides.
As the rumble of my suitcase echoed through the lobby, a young man—tall, sun-kissed, and with broad shoulders under his crimson blazer—appeared from behind the desk.
My eyes widened as I tried not to stare.
Holy shit. Why are all these men so hot?
Finally reaching the desk, he offered me a gracious smile, his demeanor warm and welcoming. He spoke smoothly as his hand brushed dark, wavy tendrils from his face.
“Benvenuta, signorina del Vigneto Riserva del Regale. Il tuo nome?”
I stood silently, my eyes glowing with bewilderment as I struggled, debating how to respond.
He noted the confusion that must have been plastered across my face and spoke again, pronouncing every word clearly, “My apologies, signorina. Welcome to Vigneto Riserva del Regale. Your name?”
I responded, practically exasperated and begging for any kind of assistance at all, “Oh, no. I am already a guest here. But I have a problem.”
I took a deep inhale, my eyes widening as I felt my heart pounding in my chest. “Antonio never met with me last night, and I need to see if you can help me rearrange my trip and maybe meet with him tonight. Can you help?”
His warm smile greeted me as he looked down at me from his place behind the desk, his words thick like honey as he spoke. “Ah, Miss Bailey. I am Lorenzo. So very nice to meet you.” He rested his palm against his chest and bowed slightly as blush crept across my cheeks.
He raised his head and smiled, his straight white teeth a stark contrast to his dark, tanned skin.
“I am extremely glad to see you. We have news for you. Based on your…uh, situation…this is exceptionally good news,” he replied as he nodded reassuringly, his eyes scanning the computer just below the countertop of the desk.
I clapped my hands together as a smile formed across my lips. “Oh. Good news. Perfect!”
Lorenzo’s attention turned back to me. “Yes. So…the bus route to Naples is not safe. A very serious structural issue. The road has been closed until repairs are complete.”
I stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. “What do you mean by closed? Like, no one can get out of Calabria?”
He replied slowly as if his accent was causing the confusion, “Uh…this is the main road that the buses take between here and Naples, Miss. Sometimes things like this happen. Only passenger vehicles can make the trip now.”
He smiled, waiting for my reply that never came as I continued to blink at him.
“I am deeply sorry, but to make up for the inconvenience, we are taking care of everything. Your stay, food, and beverages will all be handled, and we will rebook the flight once the road is fixed. We will keep trying to get a car service for you, but they are booked days out right now.” Lorenzo smiled as his eyes filled with desperation.
“Yes…I guess,” I stammered, my voice wavering. “Wait…you’re covering everything? Why?”
“Yes, Miss,” he confirmed. “A gift from us to you. There was a note on your account to take eccellente care of you. Please, try not to worry. Just enjoy your time here.” He flashed a warm, reassuring smile.
“And Antonio? Our meeting?” I questioned as Lorenzo slid the new room key across the counter.
“Yes, of course. Antonio is off for the weekend, but I will leave a message for him on your behalf. In the meantime, we have put you in a fresh suite. It is our absolute best. You will love it,” Lorenzo said with a wink, wrapping his arms behind his lean frame, and bowing his head ever so slightly.
There was a note on my account?
Surely, Antonio felt bad for ghosting me and added the note.
Finally, a glimmering sign of hope for this deal!
I took the fresh room key, managing a polite smile as I thanked him, my face still painted with a puzzled expression.
Turning around, my eyes widened as they landed on the last person I expected to see.