Читать книгу The Delicious De Campos: The Divorce Party - Jennifer Hayward - Страница 13
Оглавление“THIS IS YOUR idea of convincing the board you’re the man to lead De Campo?”
Gabe shoved a folded newspaper under Riccardo’s nose.
He sat back in his office chair and glanced at the tabloid. It was the same one Lilly had waved in his face this morning on her way to work. Having the juiciest of all the coverage of the charity event, it sported the headline “Trouble in Paradise—Already?”, which was set over a montage of three photos of him and Lilly laid out in timeline fashion.
The first was of him kissing her on the dance floor. He studied it critically. They looked very much in love, despite the fact they hadn’t talked in days. The second was of Lilly falling off the runway into Taylor’s arms. His mouth tightened. That he’d like to forget. The third was a shot of himself restraining the surgeon after he’d thrown that punch.
All in all, fairly damaging.
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “It’s a slow news day.”
Gabe lifted a brow at him. “What the hell happened? Fisticuffs aren’t usually your style—although lately I have to say you’re doing a pretty good job of it.”
Riccardo spread his fingers in an expressive gesture. “He threw a punch.”
Gabe sat on the edge of his desk. “Why?”
“He cornered Lilly and made it clear he was going to be around to pick up the pieces when I broke her heart. I took offense at that.”
His brother let out a low whistle. “I’m surprised you didn’t slug him.”
“That would have been giving the board far too much ammunition.”
“And Lilly falling off the runway?”
“The designer forgot to do up her shoe.”
“You’re kidding?”
He crumpled up the paper and tossed it freethrow-style into the garbage can he kept across the room for exactly that purpose. “She was a trooper. She got right back up there and did it again.”
“That’s Lilly.” His brother grinned. “She has spirito.”
Until the end. When she’d become a shadow of her former self. When she’d had that same look on her face she’d had before going up on that stage every night before they’d gone out. As if she’d been dreading it.
A wave of remorse settled over him. He’d been the son-of-a-bitch who’d made her go up there. And, even though he had no idea what had set her off, it had been wrong to do it.
Dio. He picked up his coffee and glowered into it. Lilly had used to be comfortable in the center of it all. They’d been nicknamed the Golden Couple for their ability to work a room.
So what had changed?
She had accused him of never being there for her. The symbolic act of Taylor rescuing her and not him had been a brutal shot to his ego. Not just because he’d been five feet away and Taylor had sprung out of his seat like Sir Galahad on a white steed. But because it had once again reinforced the fact that she’d left him. That he wasn’t the one she wanted. The fact that he had no clue who she really was.
His hand tightened around the coffee cup, red-hot anger slicing through him. It was time he and Lilly had a long conversation about a lot of things—not the least of which was what had really happened to her during those last few months of their marriage. Why she’d frozen him out. Become a ghost of who she’d been. It had to be about more than Chelsea. And he was sure that last night held the key to at least some of it.
Gabe glanced at his watch. “You ready?”
Riccardo nodded.
The cold war between him and Lilly couldn’t go on forever. Not with this battle with the board and his father ahead of him. Not when he was intent on claiming what was rightfully his. Both at home and in the boardroom.
There was a knock on the door. He got to his feet as Paige, his PA, came in.
“The meeting’s about to start.”
He nodded and slipped on his jacket. It was possibly the most important meeting of his life, in which he was to lay out his plans for De Campo’s future to the board, and here he was obsessing over his wife. His mouth twisted. Lilly would find that bitterly amusing, he was sure.
He picked up his laptop and followed Gabe out of the room.
“Ah...Riccardo?” Paige lifted a brow at him as he walked past her.
“Mmm?”
“Want the blueprints?”
The blueprints of their new restaurant in SoHo. The centerpiece of his presentation. He grimaced and took them from her. “What would I do without you?”
* * *
Antonio had the same salacious tabloid Riccardo had now seen twice this morning tucked in front of him when they walked into the room. Riccardo swept his gaze around the table. So did Phil Bedford and Chase Kenyon. Hell. Was his life a walking soap opera?
“Smoothing the way, I see,” his father murmured as he took his place beside him. “Did you know Phil Bedford plays golf with Harry Taylor?”
Riccardo deposited his laptop on the table with slightly more force than was necessary, picked up his father’s paper and waved it in the air. “Looks like most of you have seen the paper this morning?”
Matty’s mouth dropped open. Gabe looked fascinated. All the other extremely senior heads of their corporations sat there silently and stared at him. He shifted his gaze to Phil Bedford, the portly CEO of a consumer packaged goods company pushing fifty.
“Harry Taylor wants to date my wife. I don’t consider that a valid proposition since she is still my wife. So I acted on it.” He threw the paper down on the table like the trash it was and eyed the room. “If anyone would like to crucify me with this please do so now, so we can get on with business.”
Phil Bedford stared down at his coffee. Chase Kenyon doodled on his notepad.
“Fine.” Riccardo looked at Antonio. “All yours.”
He could have sworn his father was holding back laughter as he got to his feet and opened the meeting. Antonio gave a holistic presentation on how the De Campo Group was performing worldwide, every bit the elegant global wine baron as he talked through the slides in his thick accent, then turned the meeting over to Riccardo for an update on the restaurant business.
Riccardo opened with an overview of the division’s strong growth prospects, then ran through a presentation on the new jewel in the De Campo restaurant crown—Zambia, the SoHo restaurant set to open in six months. He saw the lights go on in the board members’ eyes as he spoke of the twelve percent overall profit increase the restaurant division would bring in, and knew he’d driven home his message of where the future was for De Campo.
He sat down, his jaw clenched with satisfaction. He had nailed it.
Gabe stood to give an update on the California operations. Another board member gave a presentation on how lessons learned from the packaged goods industry could be applied to wine. Then they broke for lunch.
Antonio followed him into his office. “Buon lavoro, figlio.”
Good job, son.
Caught off-guard by the compliment, he warily inclined his head. “Grazie.”
“You keep this up and I might just throw my weight behind you.”
He froze. The son-of-a-bitch. Even after the results he’d just presented Antonio was still stringing him along.
He dragged in a breath and let it out slowly. “I will be single-handedly responsible for that twelve percent profit you just gloated over. You start putting recognition where it’s due or so, help me God, I will leave this company and not look back.”
His father set his chin at that haughty angle he favored. “A De Campo would never utter those words.”
“This one just did.” Riccardo jammed his hands in his pockets and paced to the window. “Just out of curiosity, how long do you intend to make me pay?”
Antonio narrowed his gaze on him. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“I know that’s what you’re doing.”
“Maybe I think Gabe would do a better job.”
He stiffened, white-hot rage slicing through him. “We are not Cain and Abel, with you playing God, Antonio. I will not compete with my brother. Make a decision, but do not try and drive a wedge between us. Neither of us will tolerate it.”
His father shrugged his broad shoulders. “Some think Gabe has the true love for this business. He’s aggressive, with just the right amount of conservatism.”
“Then why didn’t you choose him to run the company while you were ill? You had the opportunity.”
Antonio met his combative stare with one of his own. “Because, despite the fact that you dishonored this family by choosing a racing career over your heritage, you have the heart of a lion, Riccardo. You have the vision to take this company where it needs to go.”
“So does Gabe.”
His father shook his head. “Not like you. You have the ability to be brutal. To make the decisions no one else wants to make.”
“Then do it,” Riccardo gritted out. “Because I’m not waiting much longer. I’ve sacrificed too much.”
Antonio pointed a beefy finger at him. “How long have I been waiting to hear you say that?”
Riccardo frowned. “What?”
“Sacrifice. You view De Campo as a sacrifice. As an impediment to your personal freedom. Not as the majestic birthright that’s been handed to you.”
“I love this company. I have killed myself for this company. I do not view it as a sacrifice. But I have sacrificed for it.” He trained his gaze on his father. “As you did.”
“Prove it.” His father flicked his hand in the air in a dismissive motion. “I’m retiring in three months. The job is yours to lose.”
* * *
“You might just kill me one of these days.”
The big, burly football player wiped the sweat from his face and stepped off the treadmill. Lilly smiled and made a note of the time in her chart. What would normally have been a walk-in-the-park run for Trent Goodman had been a one-mile endurance test on a knee that had a whole lot of healing ahead before he stepped back on a football field.
“Admit it—you like coming to see me.”
“Are you kidding?” He dropped the towel in his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “It’s the highlight of my week. The pain I can take, when I’m getting the inside scoop on all the gossip. You get more press than I do—and frankly,” he admitted sheepishly, “that’s not a good thing.”
Lilly laughed. “Believe me—I’d happily pass it along if I could.”
“I bet you would.” He grinned. “That photo of your husband tangling with the doctor? Priceless.”
Maybe somewhat less than priceless. She was now back as a fixture in all the gossip rags. She’d spent the weekend fuming at Riccardo’s caveman tactics. Both with Harry and in the bedroom.
“He has his moments,” she murmured, looking back at the clipboard. “Same time tomorrow?”
He nodded and blew her a kiss. She smiled and watched him leave. Muscular, gorgeous, charming and making millions...Trent would have had most women on their knees with his overt flirtatiousness. Lilly, however, was fixated on her own brutish male.
What in the world had gotten into her? She’d nearly toppled. Slept with him and done something she’d have sorely regretted. All because she still couldn’t keep her hands to herself when it came to Riccardo.
She twirled a chunk of hair around her finger. They had exchanged a total of about a hundred words since that scene in the bedroom. If he was in the kitchen when she came down, she took her coffee onto the patio. If she came down first, he went and watched the news in his study.
It couldn’t go on like this.
Unresolved issues lay between them like unexploded mines. Yet Saturday night had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt she never wanted to live the life of Riccardo’s society wife ever again. That she’d been right to leave when she had.
That she wasn’t capable of living it beyond the six months she’d committed to.
So why did everything feel so wrong? Why couldn’t she just do what she needed to in public and to hell with how things were at home? She tossed her clipboard on her desk and grabbed the notes on her afternoon patients so she could file them. She had pushed a set of notes into a folder and slid it back into the drawer before realizing she’d completely mixed the two patients up. Damn. She pulled the two folders out again.
A loud piano piece filled the air. She frowned. Her new ringtone. Note to self: change that. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it to her ear while she fixed the notes.
“Lilly Anderson.”
“De Campo,” Riccardo’s rich drawl oozed across the line. “Really, Lilly, you have to get with the program.”
“I don’t use your name professionally. You know that.”
“I don’t like it. I’m calling to ask your permission to ask Katy to clear your schedule for Thursday and Friday.”
Her husband’s drily delivered request made Lilly frown and push the drawer of the filing cabinet shut with her foot. Riccardo asking for her permission to do something? Was he sick? On some type of mood-altering medication?
She cleared her throat and chose her words carefully. “I have clinics at the hospital on Thurdsay and Friday. Is it important?”
“I’d like to take you to Barbados for the weekend.”
“The Caribbean island of Barbados?”
“The one and only,” he confirmed, amusement lacing his tone. “A friend of mine offered up his place for the weekend.”
She stuck a finger in her mouth and chewed on her nail. “So it’s a business thing?”
“No.” His voice deepened to that silky tone that made her toes squish in her shoes. “Definitely not business.”
Heat filled her cheeks. “Riccardo—”
He sighed. “We need a truce. We need to talk, Lil. Somewhere by ourselves, with no photographers, no one interrupting us, neither of us rushing off to work... Just us.”
She couldn’t deny that. It was just that it sounded sort of...terrifying. She rested her hip on the corner of the desk and the guilty thought came to her that maybe, maybe, if she’d talked to him from the start instead of shutting down things would have been different.
A snapping sound filled the air. She pulled her finger out of her mouth and stared, horrified, at her broken nail. She hadn’t bitten her nails in exactly twelve months.
“You still there?”
“Yes.”
Another sigh. “I’m pretending I’m asking, but I’m not really, you know.”
She smiled. At least she knew her husband hadn’t been abducted by aliens. She stared down at her wreck of a nail and swallowed hard. “To be clear—this is a discussion? That’s all?”
“A discussion,” he agreed firmly. “That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Okay, then, yes.” It would be closure for them both.
“Good. Will you tell Katy or will I?”
“I will.”
“Bene. I’m off for dinner with the boys and Antonio.” His voice took on a sardonic edge. “Wish me luck.”
“Keep your cool. You’ll be fine.”
A meaningful silence came down the phone line. “Already lost it. Ciao, bella.”
“Ciao.”
Lilly pressed the end button, her skin tingling from the effects of those two softly spoken words. Would there ever come a day when that didn’t make her want to throw caution to the wind and do exactly what she wasn’t supposed to do?
She fought the sinking feeling she had just made a huge mistake and dialed her sister.
Alex answered with a distracted, “Hello.”
“It’s your sister. Got a sec?”
“Always. How are you holding up? Riccardo mix it up with anyone lately?”
“Very funny.” Lilly pulled a pristine nail out of her mouth before she trashed that one too. “We have to reschedule brunch. I’m going to be away this weekend.”
“What lifestyle-of-the-rich-and-famous event is he taking you to?”
“None. We’re going to Barbados together.”
“Damn. I would put up with him for a weekend like that.”
Lilly smiled. “Gabe’s still in town, you know.”
“Mmm, yes—well, I’m afraid I’m not up for twenty-four-seven sparring. Dr. Overlea just called to say he’s scheduled Lisbeth in for some pretreatments next week. I’m going to head home and keep her company so she doesn’t stress.”
Lilly’s throat tightened. “I didn’t think he was going to be able to get her in so soon.”
“He needs to do this before he schedules treatment with the clinic in Switzerland.”
“Right.” She swallowed hard. “I—” Hell. The conversation with Riccardo was important, but her sister’s health was more so.
“Lil—it’s fine. I’ll go.” Her sister’s voice softened. “You guys need time together.”
She chewed on her lip. Alex probably thought she and Riccardo were having hot reunion sex every night... She so desperately wanted to tell her that, no, they weren’t, that they were hardly talking to each other and she was hopelessly confused, but she couldn’t. Not if she was to keep her and Riccardo’s deal.
“You’ll call me if you need me? I’ll come right back.”
“I will. I promise.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Okay.”
“By the way—one of the girls here just showed me some of the stuff the tabloids are saying about you. Please tell me you’re not reading it?”
“I’m not reading it.” Only a bit. One or two particularly horrid pieces...
“Yes, you are. I can tell. You have to stop it, Lil. It’s awful, destructive stuff and not a bit true. I’ve never seen you looking so good.”
Lilly sighed. “I’m fine, Alex. I promise.” Only her sister knew how deep her body issues went and she called her on it when she needed to.
“You sure?”
“I gave my whole wardrobe to charity,” she said drily. “Riccardo almost had a fit.”
“The whole thing?” her sister squeaked.
“All of it.”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that.”
“I know... Al?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you really think people never change?”
She sighed. “Are you talking about Riccardo?”
“Yes.”
And why, exactly, was she?
Her sister cleared her throat. “When we were looking at those tabloids this morning, one of the girls here looked at that photo of you and Riccardo kissing—which is dreamy, by the way, and I don’t do dreamy, as you know—and she got this stupid, expression on her face and said, ‘I just want that. To be that much in love.’”
Lilly felt the stitches she’d triple-sewed around her heart rip, leaving it jagged and raw. She wanted to be that much in love again. But that wasn’t her and Riccardo anymore, and telling herself that was possible was foolish.
“So,” her sister continued, “while I think he might be the most arrogant son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever met, I know what you have is special, Lil, and that man is crazy about you in his own demented way. Which leads me to believe he’s going to do whatever it takes to keep you.”
Lilly stood there, wishing she’d never asked the question in the first place.
“Do me a favor?” Alex’s voice lost its sarcasm and took on a serious note.
“Name it.”
“Whatever you do, don’t get pregnant.”
Lilly stared at the phone, horrified. Then remembered her sister didn’t know. Didn’t know this was all a charade. “Of course I won’t. That would complicate everything.”
“Exactly.”
Exactly. She glanced at her watch. “I’m done for the day, and Riccardo’s out with the boys. You up to swimsuit-shopping? You’re the only one I know who’ll give me an honest opinion.”
They made arrangements to meet and Lilly hung up, more worried with every passing moment that a “conversation” in Barbados with her sexier than hell husband was a disaster waiting to happen.
One thing she knew for sure. She could never, never tell him about why she’d entered into this deal. About Lisbeth. Because she didn’t trust him not to use that against her. And Lisbeth was all that mattered.
