Nothing about Enrico Ferrara is good for me.
His questionable lifestyle, his money…. and the hold he has over my wimpy heart is one big recipe for disaster.
“Can we go for a drink after this? I would like to talk to you,” he says quietly.
I stare up at his handsome face. “No, Rici,” I whisper sadly. I wish things were different. “It’s too late.”
He stops dancing. “You said that our story was just beginning.” His eyes search mine.
“That was before you burned the book.”
Our eyes are locked, the music finishes, and everyone claps while I step back from him.
“Olivia.”
“Goodbye,” I whisper.
His gaze drops to the floor, and before I cave, I turn and quickly walk back to my table.
Giorgio smiles as I arrive, and we both turn to see Enrico leave the ballroom in a rush.
My stomach drops.
Giorgio watches him leave and then turns to me. “Why do you think you’re in Italy, Olivia?”
I turn to him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Your application was successful in New York.”
I frown. “What?”
“You got the job in New York-the first one you applied for.”
“Then why did I end up in Milan?”
“Mr. Ferrara sent for you.” I stare at him, lost for words. “I brought you here at his request.”
“What?” I splutter. Horror dawns. “So, my whole job is a sham?”
“No.” He puts his arm around me. “Darling, you got that position fair and square, and I got them to hold the position in New York for three months in case things don’t work out here.”
I stare at him. “Why would you do that?”
“For Rico.”
“He asked you to send for me?”
“Yes.”
The room spins. “But why?”
He chuckles as he picks up my purse and hands it to me. He links my hand around his arm and leads me toward the door. “Connect the dots, sweetheart. It seems Enrico Ferrara has a tendre for you.”
We walk out of the front door and straight into the back of a waiting cab. I stare out of the window as the taxi pulls out into the street.
“I haven’t seen him for two years, Giorgio.”
“And yet, he hasn’t forgotten you.”
I stare at Giorgio, my mind a clusterfuck of confusion. “He’s an asshole.”
He smiles and puts his arm around me. “They all are, darling.”
* * *
“I can’t believe you’re here already.” I smile across the table at Natalie.
“My boss decided he didn’t want me to work my notice, and then the airline had a half price special for this week only. I had nothing holding me back. May as well get here so I can start looking for work.”
“I’m so excited you’re here.”
“Me, too.”
It’s Saturday night, and in an unexpected turn of events, Natalie has arrived in Milan earlier than we expected. We’re in a cocktail bar and we have just had dinner. We’re going clubbing tonight after this to celebrate.
Natalie frowns. “So, tell me this story again. I’m confused.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” I sip my margarita. “Apparently, Enrico asked for my job to be in Milan instead of New York.”
“How does he have that pull?”
“I don’t know, he’s friends with Giorgio and, well… there are stories about him being the head of the Mafiosi,” I whisper.
“The mafia?” she gasps out loud.
“Shh.” I look at the people around us, hoping nobody heard. “Keep your voice down.”
“What do the stories say?”
I wave my drink in the air as I try to articulate myself. “That the Ferrara family has been linked to Mafiosi, but nothing has ever been proven or any charges laid.” I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s some fucked up shit that I can’t make head nor tails of.”
“Oh, that’s crap,” she huffs. “As if you would listen to the internet. Anyone can load something onto Wikipedia, Olivia.”
“But he is really, really rich, Nat. Like horse’s head rich.”
“Because all rich Italians must be criminals, right?” She rolls her eyes. “This isn’t the 1940s, Liv. He probably just comes from a really smart family.”
“You think?’
“It’s a lot more plausible than the frigging mafia rumors. Didn’t you say his brother was a doctor and that he was a policeman?”
“Yeah.” I sip my drink, fascinated with her theory.
“Since when have you ever seen a policeman and a doctor in the fucking mafia?”
“True.”
“Oh, hang on.” She holds up her hand. “I can’t kill criminals today, I’m in heart surgery.”
We giggle. “It does sound ridiculous when you say it like that.”
“But then he sent for you.”
I smile softly. I hate to admit it, but I love that he sent for me.
“He must have been thinking about you all this time.”
“I don’t know. He asked to see me the other night and when I said no, he left in a huff.”
“You haven’t heard from him since?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm.” She purses her lips. “What about how his father died on the day you left?”
“I know.”
“This is like a movie or something. El Caspase Blanco.”
“Is that a movie?” I frown.
“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know. Something like that.” She sips her drink. “I mean, you thought he hated you. He was broken. Huge misunderstanding. He sends for you two years later.” She puts her hands over her heart and bats her eyelashes. “My faith in romance has been restored.”
I stare at her, deadpan. “He’s still an asshole.”
“Totally, but at least now you can fuck him without regret.”
I grab her hand over the table. “Nat, thank you for coming to stay to Milan for me. It means the world.”
“Baby, I’m not here for you. I’m totally here for the men.”
Two hours later,
The club is pumping. The dance music is as loud as can be, and we are outside on the terrace. Inside there’s a large dance area, three or four bars, and a second lounge area. Outside here is a marquee, a big pool and bar area, and it’s not as crowded as inside.
“God, will you look at this place?” Nat whispers.
“It’s something else.”
There’s beautiful people everywhere, and fairly lights light up the sky. “This will be where all the cool people hang,” Nat says.
“Yeah, I guess.” I smile as I glance up at the door in time to see Enrico walk through to the outside bar, with two men ahead of him.
“Shit,” I whisper.
Natalie looks over in the direction of where I’m looking. “What?”
“That’s him.”
“Who?”
“Enrico.”
“What? Which one.”
“The tall one at the back.”