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"Don't be," I tell him with a heavy sigh. "It happened the other day… or was it yesterday?"
"Brides get very mad when you don't remember the wedding day. Anniversaries and all that."
"Add it to the list of things she's mad about," I grumble into my drink. "How's Truman doing?"
"I haven't spoken to his lawyers yet. But thanks to all the work you did, it looks like everyone's in the clear after that last scandal. I still want to thank you properly for that. How about you bring the missus for a night? I'll set you up in one of your favorite rooms, and this time, you can do more than just watch."
Just as he says that, a woman slinks her way over to us from a group of well-dressed women. They look like they're in the middle of a business meeting. Or, at least they were until one of them probably dared this woman to come over.
"You know, boys, I heard this used to be a speakeasy, but the only thing easy I can speak of is me?" She breaks out into hysterical laughter, leaving both me and Dimitri to wonder if this is how she genuinely strikes up conversation.
"Listen, honey, find the bartender and ask him for Fredo Smith. Fredo will get you everything you're looking for," Dimitri tells her as he knocks on the bar three times.
The bartender looks in our direction and nods, coming over and distracting the woman away from us. She's beautiful, and so long as she keeps her mouth shut, she'd be perfect, but she's not perfect for me.
"Who's Fredo Smith?" I ask him.
"That's my 'break in case of emergency' signal to whoever's behind the bar. Whoever asks for Fredo is to stay away from me for the rest of the day. Now, back to you, Less. What's got you drinking in the middle of the afternoon?"
I unload what I can on Dimitri. "All I can think about is my wife. There are kids, her Family, my Family. There are so many people looking for me to protect them. It feels like I'm being split in six directions. There's no way I can control what's happening, and something's bound to happen. I don't want anyone getting hurt because I can't see what's coming."
Dimitri pats me on the back. "My friend, you can't even control one of those things. Do what you can and stay away from what you can't change."
"That's not helpful, man. But thanks."
He tips his glass toward me. "Never said I could help, but I wanted to try. Seems like you're better at solving problems. Stay as long as you like, drinks on me, brother."
I stay at the bar for a few hours, working off my phone, managing media outlets to make sure the scandal Dimitri mentioned is still a shadow in the news cycle. A car pulls up a few minutes after I walk into the Manhattan evening, ready to take me home where Evelyn is in the kitchen cooking. I don't want to disturb her, so I opt to head straight into my bedroom.
A sanctuary of darkness where a heavy bag hangs in the corner. It literally lets me punch out my demons. So, as she bakes to cope with her anxiety, I suit up to box with mine.
10
EVELYN
There's a silent rhythm to baking. It's repetitive enough to lose myself in the process. Italian cookies, stuffed shells, and eggplant Parmesan keep me in Alessandro's kitchen for hours, waiting to see what he has in mind for me for breaking the rules.
Angst melts away the longer he's out of the house. Every once in a while, Lorenzo pops in to see what I'm making, casually checking on me. More like checking to see what he can swipe to snack on. Once everything finishes, I put a plate in the oven for Alessandro like a dutiful wife and put the rest of my creations away to eat another day.
After cleaning the kitchen, the sounds of grunts and someone being hit greet me at the top of the stairs. Intrigue and my imagination pull me closer to Alessandro's room where the noises grow louder. My heart races, pounding against my chest, even harder than the pounding coming from behind the closed door.
I put my ear up to the door, desperate to hear what he's doing with so much vigor. My nerves are tingling. The hairs on the back of my neck are on edge with anticipation.
"Is everything alright, Evelyn?"
"Shit! Jesus Christ, Lorenzo. You scared the hell out of me," I chastise him with a hand clutching my chest. I truly have to get better at observing my surroundings.
He runs his hand down his mouth to mask his laughter before turning back to head into his room. Sounds passing through the closed door tell me to go to my room, where a soothing hot bath waits for me.
Music streams through my phone to my earbuds, letting me drown out Alessandro's grunts of exertion. The tub doesn't take long to fill, and when I slide into it, the water wraps around me like a dream. Ripples from the slight sway of my knees under the surface disappear against the walls of the porcelain tub. The heat lulls my eyes closed, and when I open them, I desperately want Alessandro to be there.
When the minute turns into a half hour, I've had enough time to stew in the tub, opting to get out before I turn into a prune. As I'm drying off, the door to Alessandro's room opens. I steal a glance at myself in the mirror before turning around to face him.
Two wavy tendrils of blonde hair frame my face while the rest of my hair sits high in a ponytail. Alessandro walks into the bathroom, soaked in sweat, with shades of pink and red blooming across his chest. His legs are thick, muscular, and strong in a pair of black training shorts.
Steady thuds of my heart beating against my chest anxiously wait for him to take them off. Blood pumps through my body, and my pussy twitches with delight hoping for a replay of last night's multiple orgasms.
Our eyes lock, a standoff waiting for either of us to say something about the broken rules. His mouth opens, but just before he says anything, both of our phones ring.
