XOXO (The Calvettis of New York 3)

I interrupt him with a hand in the air. “Making money.”

“I was going to say pussy and beer, but I agree, you were chasing the almighty dollar even back then.”

“I need to get in on this conversation.”

Judd and I both glance in the direction of a breathy feminine voice. It seems the leggy brunette has invited herself over.

Her gaze settles on my face. “Is someone going to buy me a drink? Whiskey suits me just fine.”

Still undecided whether I’ll take this beyond the bar, I turn to find the server.

I scan the interior of the pub, but I don’t see him.

Instead, I spot a couple at a table in a dimly lit corner. The guy is young. The ball cap on his head gives that away. The hoodie he’s wearing is emblazoned with the logo of a second-rate baseball team. It should be hidden in a box in the back of his closet, not on display when he’s obviously on a date.

The blonde facing him has her back to me. Her hair is pinned up in a crooked, messy bun. She’s wearing a purple sweater and what looks like black pants. From my vantage point, I can make out the arm of a pair of eyeglasses when she glances to the side.

Is Arietta here? Is that Lowell with her?

“About that drink.” The woman who just joined Judd and I taps her fingers on my shoulder. Her gaze blazes a path over the black V-neck sweater I’m wearing before it lands on the front of my jeans. “Make it a double. I have a feeling I’m going to need it if this evening goes the way I hope it will.”

It won’t.

Any desire I may have had to go home with her is gone.

“I need to take off.” Judd’s voice draws my attention back to him. “I trust that the two of you will enjoy the rest of your evening.”

I’m on my feet as soon as he is.

The brunette standing next to me lets out a frustrated noise. “Are you leaving too?”

“As soon as I place your drink order with the server,” I say before I look at Judd. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Confused, he raises a hand in the air in a half-wave. “All right, bud.”

Shaking my head, I smile. He’s been calling me that since we were kids, even though I’ve told him repeatedly to stop.

As he strides toward the exit, I glance at the woman again. She’s pretty. Certainly, my type, and on any other night I’d be curious about her. I’d want to know her name, how she tastes, how her lips feel wrapped around my dick.

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” she asks.

There’s not, but my assistant sure as hell deserves someone better than a skinny kid dressed like he’s going to the ballpark.

“Have a seat.” I motion toward the stool Judd was sitting on. “I’ll get you that drink. It was good to meet you.”

The last line is a lie since I don’t know her name and have no interest in finding out what it is.

She silently nods.

That’s my cue, so I turn on my heel and head straight for the table where my assistant is wasting her time on a kid who has no idea he’s having a drink with a brilliant woman.

“Arietta,” I call out her name as I approach.

She doesn’t turn around, so I up my pace.

With my heart pounding in my chest for some unknown fucking reason, I reach her. I rest a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Voss.”

Her head turns up, and what greets me is a smiling face, but it’s not Arietta’s.

“Can I help you?” she asks. “Do I know you?”

Hope fills her expression as I drop my hand. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.”

Smiling, she lowers her voice to barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry I’m not.”

I can’t say the same. Unexpected relief rushes through me as I realize that I didn’t stumble into the middle of Arietta’s date. I hope to hell I never do.

Chapter 16

Dominick

After spending the day with my family yesterday, I’m ready to get back to work.

It’s been some time since I’ve participated in a Calvetti family lunch. My grandmother hosts them once every couple of months, and if you’re related to her, she wants you there.

I’ve bowed out a few times because of work, but yesterday I made an appearance.

The food was exceptional, seeing my sisters and cousins was good, and listening to Marti tell stories about when we were all kids was a stroll down memory lane that I didn’t mind.

I step off the elevator to see some of my employees clear a path. The whispered, “good morning, sir,” I hear to my left goes unanswered, as does the cheery “happy Monday” that greets me from the right.

I round the corridor that leads to my private office area.