CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The next morning Giorgio woke up to the screeching sound of his ringing phone. When he looked at the Caller ID and saw that it was Penelope, he almost didn't answer it. But she hadn't seen him since yesterday afternoon. He answered.

"Where are you, Giorgio?" she asked him.

Giorgio could barely keep his eyes open. And already she sounded in distress. He turned onto his back.

"Gio? Where are you ? I demand to know where you are!"

Giorgio frowned. "Don't you speak to me in that tone. And at this time of morning."

There was a pause and, he was certain, a recalibration. Pen knew not to push his buttons too hard or he'd embarrass her ass and call everything off. She knew him. "Where are you?" she asked again, but this time with less drama in her voice.

"I'm home."

"You have several homes, Gio, many of which are right here in New York. Which one?"

He didn't answer. That was none of her business. "What do you want?" he asked her instead.

"You didn't come over last night." She had a cry in her voice.

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. That was her distress. He didn't come over last night. And she was crying about it. What was he doing with this child???

"You didn't phone. You didn't come over. What were you up to, Gio?"

Giorgio actually looked at his phone. He knew she didn't ask him a question like that.

"Gio, what were you up to last night?"

"None of your got damn business," he said angrily. And then he ended the call and threw it across his nightstand.

But as he calmed back down, his thoughts didn't stay on Pen for very long, or how in the world was he going to weasel himself out of an engagement he should have never announced. His thoughts turned to, remarkably, Vivian Ellis again. He even dreamed about her last night. She was walking a runway as if she were a model, and then she fell off the stage. The part that distressed him was that nobody would help her back up onstage. Nobody gave her a helping hand.

Not even him.

Which was understandable, he thought, given the way she had spoken to him. But it still didn't make any sense because he actually did help her. He broke protocol and gave her a cleaning contract just like she wanted. But in his dream, he turned his back on her in her hour of need. And he felt really anxious about that. As if he had somehow wronged her. Which was crazy too. He did her a favor by staying away from her.

He leaned his head back and ran his hand across his face. He had simpering child of a fiancée to worry about, yet he was in bed thinking about another woman ? Somebody he never wanted to hold a conversation with ever again? Was he losing it? Was he caught up in the throes of a midlife crisis and didn't even realize it? What was he doing???

Whatever it was, it was unproductive as hell.

He got out of bed and took himself a long, cold shower.