Olivia
I quickly put the menu up in front of my face so I can hide behind it.
Shit, are you kidding me?
“How are you?” Franco smiles.
I glance back over to see Enrico deep in conversation with a group of men. He laughs out loud and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Great,” I lie. This is the worst day of my entire freaking life. What the freaking hell is Rico doing in Milan? I frown and pretend to read the menu in great detail, trying to buy some time. “Wow, you have such a great selection of drinks,” I mutter to the waiter as I break into a cold sweat.
Franco and the waiter wait for my order. Oh man, I can’t hold the menu up any longer. This is getting awkward. “I’ll have a shaken margarita, please.” I hand the menu over. I should have been polite and shared a bottle of wine with my date, but too bad. The ante just got upped.
It’s every man for himself now.
The waiter leaves us alone, and Franco looks over at me. “It’s so good to finally see your face, Olly.”
I fake a smile. “Yours, too.” I look over his shoulder to the level above. Enrico is sitting in the corner with a group of men. He says something, and they all burst out laughing. What was so funny? His hair is a little longer than when I was with him. His face is still…
“How are you liking Italy?” Franco breaks me from my thoughts.
I drag my eyes back to my date. “Great, thanks.”
I don’t want Enrico to see me. What am I supposed to do? Should I leave? What would I say?
“I’ve been looking forward to our date all week.” Franco smiles.
The waiter arrives with our drinks. “Here you go.”
I pick the glass up and immediately take a big gulp. “Can you bring me another, please?” I ask. Franco and the waiter exchange puzzled looks.
“So thirsty,” I mutter into my glass. “Parched, actually.”
“Tell me all about yourself,” Franco asks sexily. His eyes focus in on me as he waits for me to speak.
I stare at him. “You want to know about me?” What do I say? I don’t fuck on first dates because the one time I did, the guy was a bastard and, oh, guess what? He’s right over there, leaving me to look for the closest escape route?
“Well…” Enrico laughs out loud. I stop still. He has the most incredible laugh.
I snap my eyes back to Franco, shit what was I saying? I pause as I try to get my bearings. Damn, Enrico has me completely frazzled. “Well, as you know, I’m Australian and I’ve recently moved to Milan for a job.” I sip my drink. I don’t want to tell him too much in case he’s a serial killer or something. “I’m having a great time. Why don’t you tell me about you instead?”
“Okay, I’m in banking…” He begins to talk but I completely zone out as my eyes roam up to the man at the table above us.
Enrico Ferrara.
He’s wearing a dark suit, and he looks different. More… cultured or something. Older.
But what the hell is he doing in Milan?
I frown as a distressing thought springs to mind. Oh no. Seraphina!
He is Seraphina’s fiancé. Of course, he is. She’s frigging beautiful.
Oh God, this is my worst nightmare.
I pick up my glass and drain it. I glance up to see Franco frown as if he is waiting for me to say something. Wait, did he ask me a question? My eyes widen. “I beg your pardon?”
“I really like you,” he whispers.
What? I’ve said three words. How can you really like me? I fake a smile. “Great.”
Her grabs my hand across the table. “Let’s cut to the chase.”
I stare at him. Okay.”
“I like you, you like me…”
I take another big gulp of my drink. I wasn’t joking before; I really am parched. It’s bordering on deep dehydration now.
“Let’s have dinner and go home. I know the perfect way to get to know each other.”
I choke on my drink. “What?” I splutter, coughing.
“I mean, we can just fool around if you like.”
“Fool around?” I frown as I glance back up to Enrico. Oh man, this night is going down in the history books as the worst date ever. I open the menu and gaze at the selections. “Let’s just eat, Franco. I’m not that type of girl. I’m offended that you think I am.”
“Oh.” His face falls. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Well, you did. I’m not going home with you, so get it out of your head right now.”
I try to control my racing heart, and I can feel perspiration heat my underarms.
Just act calm, for fuck’s sake. You can get the hell out of here as soon as you eat.
“Hmm, what looks good?” I hope I get food poisoning and get taken away in an ambulance. Anything is better than this.
My eyes float back up to Rico. His legs are wide, his back is straight, and everything about him screams dominant male. He’s deep in conversation, smoking a cigar as he drinks out of a small crystal tumbler. I’ve never seen anyone smoke sexily before… but of course, he is. The way his lips wrap around the cigar, his cheeks hollow as he sucks. His eyes are dark, and fuck me, he’s so hot.
I imagine him leaning back against the headboard naked after having sex, smoking a cigar. His cock still hard and throbbing… weeping. He could make anything look sexy.
My blood begins to boil as I remember the last words he spoke to me.
You’re more trouble than you’re worth.
An attractive waitress says something in his ear as she leans over him. He gives her a sexy smile and winks.
Huh, what did she just say? Did she ask for his number or something?
She walks off and he says something to the men. They all laugh again.
“I just really like you,” Franco says. “Don’t be angry with me.”
I stare at Franco, deadpan. I have zero attraction to this man. I’m going to have to text Natalie for an escape plan because this is intolerable.
I glance back up to the table at Enrico. I can hardly drag my eyes away from him.
He’s looking around and the restaurant slowly, and suddenly his eyes meet mine across the room.
Fuck.
A frown cross Enrico’s face as he stares at me.
I snap my eyes away. “Franco,” I whisper. “This isn’t probably…”
Enrico stands and begins to stride over to our table.
Franco grips my hands in his tightly. Holy mother of fuck, help me.
“You want me, I want you,” Franco continues.
Shut up. Shut up now, you horny freak.
“Olivia,” Enrico barks, standing over us.
I look up at him, and the blood drains from my face. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit. His dark hair is in curls, and his big lips are a wonderful shade of fuck me. The bastard has become even better looking than before. How is this fucking possible?
He looks down at Franco and our joined hands. “Who are you?” he barks at him.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Franco replies, winking at Enrico.
My eyes widen.
Enrico glares at him, and his jawline moves as he clenches his teeth. “Get away from her now,” he growls.
Oh, this night is getting worse. “He’s not going away, you go away,” I fire back.
Enrico drops his hands to the table and leans down toward me. “Don’t push me, Olivia,” he hisses.
Who does this fucker think he is? My anger boils. “I’ll push you over in a minute. I said… go… away.” I roll my eyes and pick up my drink to add to the theatrics.
“I need to talk to you outside… now.”
“No. Leave me alone, I don’t want to see you. You’re annoying me.”
But we all know that’s not true. I want to jump into his bastard arms and kiss his bastard lips, and then punch him in the bastard face. Bastard of all bastards.
His brows shoot up in surprise.
Franco chooses now to speak. “You heard her. Fuck off.”
Enrico stands up, his back straightens, and he glares at Franco. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything, he just glares at him. If death had a stare… this is it.
My heart is beating so hard, and this is beyond uncomfortable.
“I said, fuck off,” Franco repeats.
“Stop it,” I whisper in a panic. Jeez, does this guy have a death wish? He’s going way too far with the aggression. This is my battle. Only I’m allowed to tell Enrico to go away.
Enrico stares down at Franco as he tucks his hands into his suit trouser pockets. “You should be very careful with who you tell to fuck off,” he warns calmly.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I look between them.
I need to diffuse this situation. “Enrico, go back to your table. We’ll talk after I have my dinner.” He narrows his eyes at Franco. “Please, Rico,” I whisper.
His eyes find mine. “Outside. Now.”
“What?”