Enzo
It was time. I walked down the path that led to Serena’s studio.
What if she said no?
No. She was going to say yes. Especially after the kiss, knowing how much she wanted me—though not nearly as much as I wanted her—she’d say yes.
Would she try to find every excuse she could think of? Yes, but I planned for each one. Serena’s excuses were predictable: Harper and work.
Serena needed reassurance that everything in her world would be taken care of if she took a night off.
Raising my fist to knock, I stopped myself. There was no need to announce myself, and there was always the chance she was so into her work she’d ignore me, thinking I was one of the runners who came down every hour to make sure she ate and drank.
Slipping into the studio as quietly as possible, I couldn’t help but smile at what I saw.
Serena was bent over the table, folding a piece of fabric. Her tongue peeked out of her mouth as she concentrated on her task.
I leaned back, ready to wait for however long she needed me to. The last thing I’d do was interrupt her concentration.
Watching her work was a privilege. The way she focused, how she lit up when she had an idea.
I recognized the fabric as the one I bought. What was she making? One of the half-finished drawings I’d seen or something else?
She let go of the fabric, stood up, put her hands on her hips, and nodded.
I cleared my throat, knowing this was a perfect time to get her attention.
Serena squealed, jumping a foot off the ground, and turned. Her hands whipped out and karate chopped at the air in front of her.
Covering my mouth with my hand, I tried my best to muffle my laughter.
“Enzo,” she said, a hand coming to her throat. “Can you make some kind of noise next time?”
“I tried. That’s why I did that throat-clearing cough?” Cazzo, she was cute. “How’s the work coming along?”
“Great. I finished all my work, which is exciting since it’s so early in the day. Now I get to work on the side project.” She pointed to the table.
I knew she was done with all her scheduled work. My guys finished her deliveries an hour ago.
“So, you have the weekend free?” I asked. As long as I took this part slowly, I was guaranteed to get what I wanted.
Serena and I are alone for the weekend.
“Yes. Hard to believe, but since you’ve helped with the delivery part, and one of the guys helped create that QR code for everyone’s deposit, it has made things so much faster.” She pulled the fabric off the table and went to one of the mannequins.
She put the half-created skirt, or maybe it was a dress, I wasn’t sure, on the mannequin using pins to hold it up.
“That’s good. Have you had a chance to look at the deposits?” I asked. I knew she hadn’t, for the sole reason that I had instructed my men to charge ten percent more on their deliveries.
The moment Serena saw it, I’d hear about it. I knew she’d rant about how high-handed I was being by butting into her business. She was afraid to charge more. She needed to see that people would still come back to her if she did, because she was undervaluing herself.
“Not yet. I only get the notification that they’ve paid, but I’ve been so busy that by the time I’m done, my fingers and eyes hurt too much to look at a screen.” She was walking around the table, cleaning up the fabric and putting it into a container.
She had the same routine every day. I waited, knowing she wouldn’t stop until the pins were put away.
“Serena,” I said, walking up to her, getting so close she took a small step back. “We’re going on a date.”
Idiota. I didn’t mean for it to come out as an order.
“Excuse me.” Serena narrowed her eyes at me.
“I’ve planned an evening for us,” I said. “Harper will be with Martina and Minnie for the night”—or the weekend if all goes well— “and we will have our date.”
She blinked and stared at me. Did I break her? Why isn’t she saying anything?
I said the wrong thing. I should have asked about Harper having a sleepover. That was an overstep.
My phone went off in my pocket. I grabbed it, glancing at the screen. Relief washed over me.
Perfect timing. It was like I planned it.
Martina’s face popped up, a little too close. “Let me talk to her.”
I held the phone out to Serena. “Mommy! Gran and Marty came to get me. We’re having a sleepover. I’m so excited.”
Harper gushed over the phone. Serena’s face went from confused to resigned, and I knew that, whatever internal battle she was dealing with, I had come out the victor. All because of Harper.
I was going to get that kid whatever she wanted, not that I wasn’t before, but it was a sky’s-the-limit deal now.
“That sounds so fun,” Serena said. “Can I come?”
“No.” Harper hung up the phone.
“Should I call back?” Serena asked, confused that her daughter hung up on her, like it wasn’t a regular occurrence for Harper to walk away in the middle of a conversation when she was done participating in it.
“No.” I closed the distance between us. Softening my voice, I twirled a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail around my finger.
“Serena, come on a date with me. I promise you won’t regret it.”
She closed her eyes and nodded.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dock before she changed her mind.