Page 35 of Say You're My Wife

“And the dessert?”

Corrado turns to me, a decadent look in his hazel eyes. “Dessert I will eat in private.”

I swallow. What kind of dessert is he saying he’ll eat in private?

His full lips part slightly, and he swipes his tongue over the bottom one, catching it between his teeth before releasing it.

“Your lounge will be ready by then,” the man says.

“A lounge?” I ask.

Corrado nods. “I enjoy a private section of this restaurant whenever I visit.”

Right.

“And he relishes keeping us on our toes,” the man adds.

“That is also true.”

“I have to say, sir, I’m surprised you remember my name,” Samuel says.

“The devil is in the details.”

Something uncomfortable passes between the pair of men. Samuel steps back and touches his earpiece.

A hostess appears out of nowhere. She wears a beige suit with a modest skirt, and her hair is up in a bun of curly dark hair wrapped in a matching silk scarf. Her warm dark-brown eyes assess me before she smiles, showing perfect white teeth.

“Welcome to the Icon,” she says, then leads us toward the dining area, past another bar, where most of the patrons are couples made up of older men and younger women. The deeper we get inside this place, the quieter and more sequestered it becomes.

We enter a room with only about a dozen tables and no fewer than nine chefs at the far end of the space working in the kitchen. The few tables in here are all taken by men in suits and scantily dressed women. This place clearly caters to wealthy men who wish to privately indulge in the company of women who might not be their wives.

I find it interesting that Corrado chose this place to “be seen” with his wife. While I presume most of the companions are escorts or mistresses, and while Corrado and I aren’t really married, it makes me wonder why he chose this place out of all the others.

The hostess walks through the room, heading for one of the six floor-to-ceiling doors that lead onto a large terrace with more seating. Corrado makes a detour.

He approaches a table where a man who seems to be in his sixties is dining with a brunette less than half his age. She wears a long white dress with a side slit all the way to the hip, exposing her entire left leg.

As Corrado approaches the table, the man stands and greets him in Italian. The woman remains seated. Corrado ignores her completely.

The man’s hair is slicked back with gel, exposing a handsome face with pronounced wrinkles around his dark-brown eyes that brighten as he regards me. “When they told me Corrado married, they never mentioned he married a siren.”

I smile at his compliment.

“Michela, this is Domenico Benvenuti. Your friend Tino’s older cousin.”

Oh man, Corrado can’t let it go. “Nice to meet you.” I glance at Corrado, hoping no more surprises come my way. I also try introducing myself to the woman, but she excuses herself to the bathroom.

“How do you know Tino?” Domenico asks.

“From Club Torniquet.”

“Oh yeah? You like the place?”

Corrado bumps my toe with his shoe. I don’t know what that means, so I look to him for an answer.

“She loves it,” he says. “Don’t you, baby?”

I confirm with a nod and a cheerful “Love it.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com