Boss (Chianti Kisses #2) Read online

  He shrugs his shoulders, smiling, “How about grilled cheese and soup?”

  “I think we can manage that.” I move to assist him but he blocks my path.

  “Sit your booty down. I’ll be your chef tonight, my lady.”

  I hold my hands up in surrender and take a seat at the kitchen island. “Should we call down to the guest house to see if Carmine wants something to eat?”

  Dom multitasks our conversation with turning on the stove. “I saw him practically making love to a sub from Downtown Deli when I came home. I think he’s fine.”

  I laugh. Downtown has the best sandwiches, hands down. “As long as it wasn’t Theresa he was practically making love to….”

  Dom turns to me, spatula in hand. “That’s not funny.”

  I nod my head up and down, “Yes… it is.”

  His neck begins to flush at the thought of his sister with a man. Its kind of fun to make him squirm. He begins to take out his frustrations on the food items at his disposal.

  Once the sandwiches are complete, he pours a large jar of soup into a pot set to boil. Covering the pot, he takes advantage of the moment of reprieve from cooking duties to keep me company.

  This is good a time as any. I’m just winging it here. I have no freaking clue what I’m doing. I cautiously set down the small colored pill on the marbled surface between us. Once my fingers are free of the burden, I sit back, and my eyes raise to his.

  He watches me very carefully. “Is that what I think it is?”

  I take a deep breath, “Mmm hmm.”

  He squints his eyes at the medication, not sure of its implications.

  “I’m not saying we’re gonna start trying,” I explain, but he seems more confused than before. “But… maybe we could not not try for a while.”

  He reaches out, his hand resting on my chin, holding it lovingly. “Are you sure, V? I mean, I never want to push you to do anything your not ready to.”

  I smile and nuzzle into his hand, kissing his palm. “I know. I’m sure.”

  His lips seek mine, confessing his love for me along the way. “You surprise me every single day, baby.”

  I kiss him over and over again, knowing that he’s practically exploding with happiness right now. We part for a second, each of us looking around the room, searching for the source of the noxious smell. We both settle our gaze on the pot of soup with black smoke billowing out from under the tightly fitting lid.

  Dom jumps up to turn off the burner and drops the pot into the sink, running cool water to cool the burning soup.

  “I’ll order the pizza, babe,”

  I leave the room to go find my phone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  DOM

  I manage to deactivate the alarm clock promptly before 5AM, so it doesn’t have the opportunity to wake V up. I really just use it as a backup in case I have a hard sleep, but last night was no such luck. Even though V gave me some of the best news of my life last night, agreeing to be open about starting a family, I wasn’t able to sleep a wink.

  It’s like the quiet before the storm.

  Nick was able to add the spyware to the website spying on V, but so far it’s been quiet. No new attempts to upload anything. I sent him the reflected image that Carmine was able to find in one of the stills. Finding one possible match will take some time, but that doesn’t mean that I have to be patient about it.

  Unpacking from our honeymoon and sifting through the wedding gifts that continue to arrive daily was enough to keep V’s hands full yesterday, but she’ll most definitely have to leave the estate today. I know if I try to dissuade her from any errands, it’ll only serve to raise her suspicions. So far, she has no clue what’s going on. I know it won’t last forever, but I want to keep it going as long as I can.

  Juanita, the main housekeeper is the only other early riser in the house. I can see the white hue of the kitchen lights wafting into the openness of the foyer as I pass. I moved my gym equipment down to the basement last year before V and her mom came to stay with us for a few months. It may not be as convenient as having a gym steps away from your bedroom, but it sure beats having to drive to the sports club in town.

  My office may offer me an escape, but it comes with its own stresses. The Miami hub has practically doubled our incoming shipments, and there never seems to be an end to the paperwork and emails. But this place, this private sanctuary in the depths of the house, offers me the only peace and quiet I can find.

  The clanking of the weights, the coldness to the leather, the low electronic humming of the treadmill beneath me… it hypnotizes me as I cast out my pent-up frustrations and exert all of the excess energy from my muscles. I punch out rep after rep to just get it all out, leaving my arms feeling like Jell-O after forty minutes.

  I grab a clean towel from the pile of rolled linens and a cold water from the small fridge before I leave my little oasis and face the hassles of the day. The morning is now in full swing, with the buzz of movement in the air as the staff carries out their routines.

  I hear my wife’s soft voice from the breakfast nook, and stop by in passing.

  “I think I can swing it, I just have a few errands to run. I might be a couple of minutes late,” She jabs on the phone while buttering her toast. The rasping of the knife against the crisped bread scratches out as she picks up her conversation. “Theresa, I can manage it. Really. It’s fine.”

  I lift my eyes from the orange juice I’m pouring at the mere mention of my sisters name. I interrupt the afternoon planning session.

  “Last I checked, it’s a weekday, and Theresa will be at work. I’m not quite sure how she’ll be able to do lunch?” I purposely speak loud enough to be heard on the far end of the receiver.

  Theresa has never exactly been in the running for employee of the month, and I’m generous enough to cut her a little bit of slack because she always seems to get her work done, but come on.

  V shoots me a death stare and moves to quickly cover the mouthpiece with her palm, and whispers, “She just broke up with Josh. We’re going to lunch. Deal with it.”

  Crap. Chick talk and break-up. I take my juice with me as I leave V to her consoling, waving my hand behind me in defeat. Pretty sure Theresa won’t be making it in at all today.

  Wonderful.

  ~*~

  “Alberti’s,” she answers.

  My fingers stop, mid movement, from putting the finishing touches on my necktie. I see my eyes widen in the mirror. This has got to be my lucky day.

  “Yeah?” I call out over my shoulder to where she’s dressing. This could work. “Carmine hasn’t seen his uncle in a while. And… I don’t really need him in the office today. He should go with you.”

  V pops her head out of her closet. “You sure? I mean… I’m meeting Theresa. I don’t think this is a good idea, what with their history.”

  I close my eyes tight. Crap. I forgot all about that.

  “They’re both adults now. I’m sure they can play nice. They don’t even have to see each other. Carmine can make himself scarce.”

  She’s not sold.

  “V, Carmine’s like a son to Mario. It would be a good deed.”

  I watch her intently in the mirror, gauging her level of compliance.

  She shrugs her shoulders and disappears back into the confines of her massive closet. Her voice echoes from within its cavernous interior. “You’re playing with fire, Dom. This is gonna blow up in our faces.”

  Theresa’s a big girl. I’m sure she can handle seeing an old crush if it helps keep my wife safe for the day. And if not, I can live with a pissed off sister for a few days.

  ~*~

  VINCENZA

  “You promise you’re gonna stay out of sight?” I ask Carmine. “I mean, we haven’t told Theresa that you’re even here yet. Thi--this isn’t exactly a good time to break the news.”

  Carmine checks his cell phone before tucking it deep into his jacket pocket. “No sweat, V. I’ll hang out and have a drink with my un
cle back in the office. After you guys are done, and she leaves, I’ll come out of hiding.”

  This is insane! I feel like I’m back in high school, helping the two of them sneak around. Every time Theresa and I would head off to the movies or go get our nails done, she was secretly meeting up with her summer love and I was her cover. It was more than effective enough in keeping Dom off their trail back then. I can’t help but feel a little bit of deja vu knowing the two of them will be so close to each other with me in the middle keeping a secret.

  Theresa’s going to eventually find out that he’s here. It’s inevitable. Especially if he’s going to be interning at ATH. I can just picture the lunch room, with the two of them giving each other the silent treatment. This is so juvenile. And I’m smack in the thick of it.

  Theresa shouldn’t be here for another ten minutes or so, according to her texts. I took a few errands off my to-do list in order to safely get here before her. The last thing she needs to see fresh off of her breakup with Josh, is me walking in with her first love, the boy who broke her heart back then.

  “Carmine! I can’t believe you’re really here!” Alana, Carmine’s cousin and his Uncle Mario’s daughter, calls out as soon as we’ve cleared the front door.

  The relatives hug hard, not having seen each other for quite some time, I’m sure. Alana’s petite for her size, but she’s still a high school senior. Carmine picks her up and whimsically twirls around with his baby cousin in his arms as if she weighed no more than a toddler.

  “No way can this beautiful young woman be the same little Alana who followed me around all the time!” He sets her down gently before holding her at arm’s length to inspect his kin. After they’ve taken in each other’s appearance, Carmine scoops her up once more. Her arms grab around him, flapping back the sides of his suit jacket in the process. The expensive, designer fabric moves to offer full view of his waistline.

  And that’s when I see it.

  A gun.

  ~*~

  The dark red liquid is strong, pungent. It’s one of my favorites. A great vintage from Eagles Nest Vineyard, one of Dom’s side investment’s with a college buddy. The light reflecting on the slightly rippled surface of the drink has me mesmerized. It’s hypnotizing. I hear Theresa’s words in the distant background, humming and oscillating with each phrase.

  I can’t concentrate on them, though. Instead, I just stare into the wine glass and the burgundy magic inside. It’s easier to focus my mind on something, anything, rather than have it wander through the thoughts of guns and secrets that threaten to break through the mental barrier I’m trying my damnedest to build right now.

  “I mean, it’s his loss, right. I mean, I’m such a catch. He has no idea how lucky he was that I even agreed to go out with him.” Theresa is going through the initial stages of breakup mourning. The whole I’m better off without him phase.

  I nod, agreeing with her while using my fork to twirl the pasta in the dish before me, fighting to appear present.

  A gun.

  What the hell could he be doing with a gun? He’s supposed to be here on business, some type of internship. Last I checked, Dom’s business doesn’t include target practice.

  An uneasy feeling begins to wash over me, the knot in my stomach tightening and growing. The food on my plate may as well be a pile dust, as my appetite has all but disappeared.

  A gun.

  I exhale deeply. This can’t be real. Dom knows the issues I have with the sordid past our families have. The company our fathers built, the luxuries we’ve enjoyed our entire lives… they were all built on lies. Horrible, sordid connections and affiliations that most definitely included guns.

  I thought we’d come so far, with Dom and John leading the movement to distance us from all of that history. The main tie to that world, EJ Rizzo, was locked up last year for his underhanded attempt to keep us under his family’s control. I thought this was all done with.

  “And I may as well be wearing a pair of neon blue granny panties with a Superman cape and singing at the top of my lungs, because you are not hearing a word I’m saying.” Theresa muddles into her wine glass.

  A gun. I shake my head is disbelief.

  “Hmm?” I ask half-heartedly.

  Theresa drops her fork loudly on the mostly-eaten plate in front of her, napkin following. “Forget it. I’m sorry if my single-girl problems are too much for you to listen to, V. I’ll make sure I don’t bother you anymore with my petty little life. You must be too busy for those things anymore.”

  What! How they hell did this turn around so fast? Theresa and I almost never argue. I stand quickly, at full attention to make my case, to let her know that it’s just a misunderstanding and all my fault. She’s fumbling through her bag for her phone, to call a cab I’m sure. I reach out to still her movements, but she swats my approaching hand away. She’s more upset than I thought.

  I back up, my wrist connecting with something briefly, before the shattering of glass awakens the otherwise calm dining of the lunch crowd. Everyone freezes, caught by surprise. I feel their eyes on me, the klutz who destroyed the beautiful wine glass, shattering it into a million pieces on the floor.

  I panic. The attention is too much. Theresa being pissed at me, the endless pairs of eyes watching me. I drop down and begin to clear the evidence of my stupidity. Each large, clear piece of debris piling on top of the next as I work to clear my mess. I feel the room start to hum again, the patrons resuming their conversations.

  “Ouch!” I withdraw my hand quickly, holding it instinctively as the sharp pain radiates through my finger. I feel the moistness cover my skin, and I squeeze harder. The red liquid dripping down my hand collects into a large drop near my wrist before falling into my lap. The next one is ready and waiting to follow.

  “V!” Theresa yells in surprise and helps me stand. I see the red mass growing on my skin, ruining my beautiful wrap dress, the one Dom bought me in Milan. I feel the empty, accusatory eyes of those nearby once again as they settle on the newest of my transgressions.

  I’ve never been one to handle blood well, least of all, my own. I hear an electrified humming begin to sound in my ears, positive I am it’s only audience. Carmine races from the back of the dining room, eyes settling on the blood rushing down my forearm.

  Things start to move in slow motion now. I see him push away at the flap of his jacket, his fingers searching for the cold, hard steel hidden below. I see Theresa’s head move sharply to the sudden movement he makes from behind her. The noise in my ears grows greater. I feel the weight of my head, as if the bottom half of me has just disappeared, with nothing to hold it up.

  And then I feel the floor, welcoming me, cushioning me as I sprawl out upon it.

  ~*~

  “And…we… are… finished,” the pleasant, middle-aged emergency room doctor extols as he snips the string of the last stitch just sewn into the skin of my right ring finger.

  He reaches for the nearby roll of gauze to begin bandaging my most recent injury. After careful work, and once my protected finger is triple the size of the matching one on the opposite hand, the more than capable doc begins to clean up the debris from the impromptu procedure.

  “Thanks, doctor. I’m sorry I’m taking up your time. I know there are plenty of people out in that waiting room who are waiting.”

  He smiles. “That was a pretty nasty little cut you had there, Mrs. DiBenedetto. But… I think you’ll live.” He winks as he pulls the curtain aside to exit my make-shift hospital room.

  I take a look down at my ruined dress. The dried blood has soaked through the fabric, dying the light colored silk a horrid, frightful color.

  “She’s right this way, Mr. DiBenedetto.”

  Great.

  I cross my arms quickly to cover as much of the bloody material as possible. It’s not perfect, but it hides the bulk of it. My eyes dart up quickly just as Dom pulls the generic, thin curtain barrier aside. The nurse behind him struggles to keep up with his frenz
ied pace.

  I smile enthusiastically, trying whole-heartedly to hide all trace of embarrassment.

  “Hi, sweetheart.” He immediately fixes on the bloodied remnants of my designer dress, then the bandaged finger. “So… funny thing happened at lunch today with your sister.”

  His eyes squint, challenging the blatantly vague explanation of my afternoon.

  CHAPTER SIX

  DOM

  “I have stitches, I’m not a cripple,” she chastises me as I help her from the hospital bed.

  The attending doctor and discharge nurse have visited, leaving us with all instructions before sending us home. Bandaging instructions, antibiotics to prevent infection, and some mild pain meds in hand, we’re all set.

  My heart rate is finally beginning to return to normal. Theresa’s phone call was both terrifying and infuriating. No one ever wants to get a call that his wife is in the emergency room. It doesn’t matter if it’s not for something serious. In those two seconds before you find out the details, the absolute worst runs through your head.

  Add to that the fact that your wife has a threat against her from some sick fuck with a camera, and the most horrible scenarios suddenly become a very real possibility. By the time Theresa had managed to tell me that it was only a cut finger, I was already out of the office yelling at Ellen to cancel my afternoon appointments as the elevator door was closing.

  “V, you have no idea what a scare you gave me,” I say trying to explain the panic I was in. “So if I come off as an overbearing husband, I don’t really care.”

  She kisses me on the cheek “I know. I’m sorry about that. But, you know I have a clumsy side. Consider this fair warning that I’m accident prone.”

  I shake my head at the thought. I don’t know if I can survive this again.

  V sees the anguish on my face and does her best to soothe away the worry.

  “Dom, I promise to be more careful,” she pouts her lower lip to try to make light of the situation.