“You handle my money.” Rocco lifts his glass in the air. “I don’t care what the fuck you wear, as long as you do a good job.”
Laughing, I tap my glass to his. “Here’s to keeping you filthy rich.”
“Speaking of that,” he begins before he huffs out a laugh. “I realized the other day that I owe you ten grand.”
Since I collect my commission off the top of Rocco’s investments, he’s not talking business. We’ve played poker in the past, but I’ve never held a winning hand against him.
Stumped, I shake my head. “For what?”
He leans forward to tap his finger in the center of the table. “For that Vernon Greenwalt wager we made when I was...I want to say twenty, maybe twenty-one. Whoever made a million first had to give the other ten thousand of it. I know you got there before I did.”
Recognition hits me instantly. “I fucking forgot about that bet.”
“How?” He laughs. “You read everything you could find about Vern. If I remember correctly, you once said that you were going to follow his footsteps to your fortune. It worked out for you.”
Vernon Greenwalt is one of the richest men on the planet. I first read about him in a piece in Forbes, along with a dozen other self-made billionaires. I showed the article to Rocco when we met at Calvetti’s for lunch one day.
Greenwalt came from humble beginnings and amassed a fortune in the auto industry. My goal when I started college was to get established enough that he’d consider me as his wealth advisor. I’ve never gotten close enough to him to shake his hand, but I haven’t given up trying.
He’s next in line behind my father as my idol. I studied the steps Greenwalt took to find success, and I mirrored them right down to making my job my number one priority.
“I always pay my debts, so I’ll get that to you in the next week,” Rocco offers.
“No.” I hold up a hand to wave that idea away. “Put it into that trust you set up for baby Bryant.”
“You’re sure?” He smiles. “You don’t need to do that, Dominick.”
“I’m sure.”
“Thank you.” Dropping his gaze to the menu in front of him, Rocco clears his throat. “Is there anything new to report in your life?”
He’s as bad at fishing for information about my personal life as our grandmother is. “No.”
That draws his head back up. “That sounded like a hard no.”
“I work,” I pause. “A hell of a lot. I don’t have time for anything else.”
“So you’re celibate now?” He cocks a brow. “I’m a betting man, and even I would never have placed a wager on you giving that up.”
I laugh. “I’m not celibate.”
It’s starting to feel as though I am. The last time I fucked was in Virginia.
“There is a lot to be said for falling in love.” He runs a finger over his wedding band. “I never thought I’d take the plunge, but when Dexie stormed into my life, that was it for me. I was gone.”
I stare at the ring. “I told Judd the other day that marriage and kids aren’t for everyone, so I’m telling you the same now.”
He leans forward, resting his forearm on the table. “Don’t shut down the possibility, Dominick. You never know who might be waiting around the corner for you. If someone had told me I’d fall for a pink-haired purse designer, I would have laughed in their face.”
I take a drink, mulling over his words.
“If you feel something for someone, see where it goes.” He taps his fingers on the table. “Love doesn’t always show up in the form you expect it to. Be open to it.”
The server arrives to take our dinner orders, giving me the break from this conversation that I was craving.
I look to the left at a bank of windows as Rocco questions the server about what he recommends.
My gaze catches on a man and woman standing outside the restaurant. As the rain that battered Manhattan starts to fall over Boston, he takes her in his arms and twirls her around.
They dance together, oblivious to everyone who is shuffling past them in their haste to find shelter from the sudden storm.
“Dominick.”
The sound of my name breaks my trance. I glance at my cousin before I look at the server. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
As soon as he’s taken off in the direction of the kitchen, Rocco lifts his glass again. “Let’s toast to whoever you were thinking about just now.”
Arietta.
I lift my glass to his again.
“Here’s to my cousin’s secret crush.” Rocco chuckles. “Whoever she may be.”
Chapter 22
Arietta
I take in a deep breath as the sun beats down on my face. I’ve missed it. The rain that has soaked Manhattan for the past few days finally moved north.
I’m relieved and excited.