14. Ambrose

Chapter fourteen

Ambrose

M y brain repeatedly plays the predicament of finding a date for the dinner, from the beach, home, into the shower and to the office.

"What do you mean you're in South Africa again?" I ask Kaia. She was my last option before I truly fell into a pit of desperation and called up Alexa.

"Have you lost your ability to comprehend a sentence, Ambrose?" she asks. She sounds as if she's running around, busy with something that I can only imagine is taking most of her concentration.

"What I meant is, I thought you got back last week," I clarify, and soften my tone.

She sighs. "I did. It's Kita's bridal shower this weekend, and she asked me to come home to help her prepare."

Kaia's sister is being sold off to the highest bidder, and the wedding is fast approaching. I know the entire situation makes Kaia nervous for whatever her father has in store for her as well. She's never been too keen on the idea of an arranged marriage.

"What did you want, Ambrose?" she asks .

"I need a date for this stupid dinner on Friday," I admit, spinning around on my chair to turn away from the large window I've been staring out of.

"Sorry I can't help you out, Brosy," she says, and I can sense her attention is on me again.

"Don't call me that." I roll my eyes, but a smirk tugs on my lips. She hasn't called me that since the funeral, but it truly does have a nice ring to it, even when I know she is only using it to soften the blow of her rejection.

"Maybe try asking that cute new assistant of yours. I hear she's quite the looker," Kaia says.

"From who?" My brows furrow.

"My aunt told me she came to pick up your suit," she chuckles and I exhale a breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"I think she'd rather lock me in a burning building and throw away the key than ever pretend to be my date," I chuckle.

"Who said anything about pretending?" Kaia asks, and I don't miss the sudden seriousness in her tone. "Anyone would be lucky to be your date, Ambrose."

"Not so sure, especially with all the things the media is saying." I slump back into my chair.

"Fuck the media. This isn't your first rodeo with them. You know better than anyone they'll spin whatever story inflates their paycheck, and right now anything with the Vitale name means money in their pockets," she says, and a small smile falls on my lips at her blind confidence in me.

Regardless of everything that has happened between us, Kaia has, and always will be my biggest supporter and me, hers.

"Thank you Kai, I have to go," I say.

"Let me know how it goes," she chirps before hanging up.

I drag my palm along the scruff of my beard and sigh trying to take in what Kaia said. What do I have to lose at this point? I pick up my phone and dial the extension for her phone.

"Yes, boss," she says, and I hear a bubble pop a few seconds later .

"Can you come in here for a minute?" I ask, the phone hangs up and a few seconds later the door to my office opens, revealing another new shade of pink. Today it's softer, a pale version of the usual bright colour she wears. It makes her caramel blonde hair seem lighter, and it makes me wonder if she changed it recently.

"Actually, I did," she says awkwardly, and I realise I've asked the question out loud.

"It looks nice."

Nice? You know what's nice? The sweets your nonna gives you on a Sunday in church. Nice is the way the sun feels on a summer's day.

Valerie is far from nice, but of course, my brain cannot comprehend a more accurate adjective.

"Are you busy Friday evening?" I stare straight into her eyes. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable I assume, under my stare.

"Depends," she says, her brow raises a silent question, asking me to elaborate.

"There's an important dinner our financial group is having on Friday-"

"Yeah the CFP dinner, I know," she cuts me off.

I run my tongue along my teeth, swallowing my snappy retort, knowing that if I decide to snap at her, the chances of her agreeing will drastically decrease.

Once I swallow down my remark, I say, "I need a date."

I choose to go with the simple statement rather, leaving her room to ask questions. I'm met with silence, and I can't tell if it's awkward or not, but by the way her eyes won't meet mine, I assume it must be.

I lean forward to rest my elbows on my desk. Hoping to return her attention to me, and it works as I watch her eyes dance down to my exposed forearms, I wish I could read her mind to see exactly what could be going on up there.

"What do you want me to do about that? Call up Alexander, or something? "

A hearty laugh leaves my body. Her comment catches me so off guard that I don't even have time to try and stop it, and for a second I think she looks scared before she chuckles along awkwardly.

I don't bother correcting her about the name, because, in all honesty, I can't remember the girl's name right now either.

"Uhm no. I wanted to know if you would like to accompany me."

It's her turn to burst out laughing and it sounds all too familiar. I want to say it's because it sounds similar to how my brothers laughed at me earlier this morning. But deep down, I know it's because it's the same laugh that graced my family home for years before, and I can't help but notice how it's barely changed since then.

"Are you being serious?" She stops laughing long enough to ask.

"Gravely."

"I'd rather paint an entire canvas with a single hair, than be your date to anything, Ambrose." She crosses her arms. "No offence, it's just weird," she quickly adds.

Her rejection stings a lot more than I thought it would.

"None taken. You weren't my first choice to be completely honest, however, I'm desperate and if I understand things correctly, you need money so I figured we could strike a deal," I stand up now.

The memory of what happened the last time I got close to her in my office is ingrained in my mind, yet I still find myself circling the desk getting close to her once again.

She's gone quiet now, and is merely watching me until I come to a halt in front of her, causing her to look up at me. Her little excuse for heels do nothing to make her taller, I tower over her both in height and in sheer size.

She squares back her shoulders, leaving no room for me to see any intimidation in her deep brown eyes, instead, they blaze with a challenge now.

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"I'll pay you if you agree to be my date."

"I'm not an escort." She scoffs, clearly offended.

I simply shrug and take a seat on the edge of my desk, allowing her to now be closer to my eye level.

She stays quiet, I imagine mulling it over. "How much?"

I don't hide my smirk. "How much do you want, sweetheart?"

Her face pulls in disgust. "Ten thousand, and for you to never call me that again."

That number rolls off her tongue as if she knows it off by heart. "I'll give you fifteen, and I can call you anything I want for the night."

"Deal," she says in an instant.

I extend my hand, and her warm hand with well-manicured nails shakes mine. The contrast of her soft pink, against my harsh black tattoos isn't lost on me, and it isn't lost on her either, as her eyes linger on my forearms again. We look like total opposites, but for some God-forsaken reason here we are, helping each other.

"I'll pick you up at 8 p.m., sweetheart," I say.

"Sure thing, boss," she does the awkward salute again, moving back. I see the distance she throws between us.

I grab her wrist, and she stares at me in alarm. I release her wrist quickly, not wanting a repeat of the last time, and her face immediately softens. I slide out my wallet from my pocket and hand her my card.

"Get the driver to take you to the mall to get a dress, I'll text you the pin."

"Yes, boss," she nods, and takes the card from my hand. She practically sprints to the door, or at least tries to in her miniature heels.

"Oh, and Valerie," I say. She stops and turns to face me. "For the love of all that is good in this world, please stop calling me boss."

"What else am I supposed to call you when you're ordering me around?"

"Trust me if I was ordering you around, you'd be lucky if you remembered any name but mine."

Her mouth drops open slightly as my words register.

I laugh at her reaction. "Just call me Ambrose, Val."

She nods quickly and disappears out of my office .

Then it's back. The way my office loses all colour, and the only thing left behind is the faint smell of her perfume. I slip back into my chair and stare at the area in front of my desk where the entire interaction took place. I run my palm across my chin once again, I feel like I've gripped onto a live wire, my entire body feeling as if it's vibrating.

I try to shake it off, shifting my attention to the work on my desk, but all that's playing through my mind is the way she reacts to everything I say. Her laugh, her expressions. Every. Single. Detail. On. Repeat.

Valerie Farina is my perfect distraction materialised into human form, and the last thing I need right now is to be distracted.