XOXO (The Calvettis of New York 3)

I try not to think about where he’s been, but my mind never cooperates with that.

Today, I imagined it was a brunette with long legs and expensive perfume. Dominick couldn’t resist the urge to be with her, so he rushed out of here to meet her at his apartment. Or maybe the desire was so overwhelming that they ended up in a bed in the hotel that’s half a block from here.

I drop my gaze to my laptop screen.

Nothing I typed during the last five minutes makes any sense, so I close the document, deleting it in the process.

I shift my attention to all of the email messages I need to get through before the end of the day.

Any email directed to Mr. Calvetti through Modica Wealth Management’s website contact form is my responsibility. I’m to use my discretion when deciding whether to forward any to Mr. Calvetti’s private email.

I rush through the first three emails waiting in the queue. All are from potential clients, so I respond to those with Modica’s standard questionnaire. No one is granted a meeting via phone or in person with Mr. Calvetti unless they meet specific criteria. It’s his way of saying they need to be filthy rich.

The current size of my bank account disqualifies me. Sinclair’s does too, since she works as a ghostwriter. She hasn’t had a high-profile client yet, but she’s determined to change that.

We share that in common. We’ve both set our long-term career goals high.

“Arietta?”

I glance up when I hear the unmistakable wheezy tone of Mr. Morano’s voice.

I keep my focus on his face even though my impossibly sexy boss is standing right next to him. “Yes, sir?”

“Dominick won’t confirm it, but I suspect that you’re responsible for the bouquet that was sent to my daughter last week.” A wink accompanies his sly grin. “She was delighted when she saw the flowers. It brightened her day.”

My gaze shifts to Dominick. He’s as stoic as ever.

He didn’t ask me to send flowers to Melody Morano, but everyone deserves some sunshine after having four wisdom teeth pulled. When I was a kid, my dad brought a handful of artificial roses to the dentist’s office the day I had a stubborn primary tooth removed. I still have those flowers. They’re in a vase on a shelf in my bedroom.

I opted for fresh white and pink roses for Melody.

“Thank you for that, Arietta.” He bows. “You made a young woman with a very sore jaw incredibly happy.”

I take pride in knowing that. “I’m really glad, sir.”

Dominick’s expression hasn’t changed since this conversation started. If I hadn’t nicknamed him The Dick, Poker Face would be the next best choice.

“I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Dominick.” Mr. Morano slaps my boss on the shoulder. “Your advice is invaluable.”

That’s not true. It comes at a percentage of Mr. Morano’s wealth. In his case, it’s a steep percentage.

“Of course,” Dominick dips his chin. “I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

Mr. Morano takes that as the cue that it is and sets off toward the elevator.

Without a word to me, Mr. Calvetti heads down the corridor toward Mr. Corning’s office.

“Grump,” I whisper under my breath as soon as he rounds the corner and disappears from my view.

***

I stand outside Liore Lingerie on Fifth Avenue, gazing inside one of the windows. I’ve been here before. Sinclair has, and my other close friend, Maren, has too. Maren is Sinclair’s sister-in-law, and both of them have invited me here in the past, but I’ve never tagged along with them.

It’s not that I don’t like pretty panties and bras. I do. I have many. Along with chocolate, I have a weakness for lace lingerie.

My mom took me to buy my first bra. We made an entire day of it, enjoying breakfast at a pricey café, followed by manicures, hair appointments, and finally a stop at a lingerie store her friend owned.

I picked out a pale blue lace bra that I hand washed as soon as we got home.

I wore it to school the next day under my sweatshirt. It made me feel grown-up. I felt pretty even though it was hidden from everyone.

I take a breath and pull open the door to the store. The bell hanging above the door signals my arrival. A woman in a wrap dress turns toward me. She raises a hand in the air. “Good evening. Welcome to Liore Lingerie.”

I do feel welcome.

Smiling, I raise a hand in return. “Good evening to you too.”

She makes her way over to me. Each tap of her heeled sandals on the floor sounds through the elegant space. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

Her warm smile puts me at ease. “Something pink. Maybe a shade lighter than your dress?”

She glances down before her gaze wanders over my shoulder. “A matching bra and panty set? That’s what you bought the last time you were in, if I remember correctly.”