Romeo, Romeo Read online

  “You're an idiot.” Vinny stood behind the bar, leaning on the counter, took a sip of coffee, and topped off Nick's with a shot of Jack Daniels. “Let's recap. This whole thing began when you picked up Rosalie in the wrecker on your way home. The next day you brought her here. Am I right?”

  Nick nodded and took a swig of his spiked coffee.

  “So that kiss I walked in on—you know, the one so hot I could have brought in a brass band and neither of you would have noticed—that was your first kiss?”

  Nick nodded.

  “Is she always that hot?”

  Nick shot Vinny a warning look, and then, disgusted with himself, he nodded.

  Vinny added a shot of Jack to his own coffee, drank it, and sat down. “Damn, if that was your first kiss… You say you took her home and never really left. It's been what, three months?”

  Nick nodded again.

  “So you dropped the bombs to the lenders about Premier before you were practically living with Lee—and way before you found out she took over the joint.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you say she still doesn't know who you are. She still thinks you're a mechanic.”

  Nick didn't bother nodding this time. He was starting to feel like a freaking bobblehead doll.

  “Nick, I never thought I'd say this, but you don't know jack about women.” Vinny held up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know, you've been with half the female population of Manhattan, but I've been married to Mona for eighteen years. Let me tell you, there's not a man alive who can keep his identity a secret from the woman he's sleeping with—not a smart, Italian woman, anyway. Rosalie knew who you were within forty-eight hours of your first date. No nice Italian girl sleeps with a guy unless she knows his first, middle, and last names—at least, not more than once.”

  Nick had to admit, Vin had a point. Rosalie had never asked his full name. He'd thought she was too embarrassed. What was she supposed to do? Roll over and say, “The sex was great, and by the way, what was your name again?” He'd never questioned it because, well, he was a guy, and it served his purpose.

  “If she's known all along, why didn't she say something? Why wasn't she mad? Why'd she make me lie to her?”

  Vinny poured another shot into both their coffees and shook his head. “Women.”

  “Christ, I'm a fucking idiot. Here I thought I was pulling the wool over her eyes, and all the while, she was the one keeping me in the dark.” Nick stared into his cup. “I've only driven the Viper once since I've met her. I've been running around, changing clothes everywhere I go, so she won't see me in a fuckin' suit. I never introduced her to my mother, Nana, or the rest of the family. Shit. If she knew, then how come she never asked for anything? She gets pissed if I pay for pizza twice in a row.”

  “Don't ask me to figure out women. You can ask Mona if you want. But if you tell her I knew anything about this stunt you pulled, I'll have to kill you.”

  “Hey, I'll admit I'm stupid, but even I'm not that dumb. Besides, you'd never get the chance to kill me. She'd do it first.”

  Vinny sat back with a shit-eating grin on his face. “So, you're in love with Lee?”

  Nick looked up and shook his head no.

  “You like her?”

  Nick liked Rosalie a lot. He nodded.

  “Okay, so you like her. She's a hot piece of ass.”

  Nick was on Vinny so fast, he made his own head spin. He reached across the bar, grabbed his cousin by the shirt, and lifted him off his feet. Dave woke up and started barking. Vinny only smiled and patted Nick on the shoulder.

  “Yup, you love her. No guy moves as fast as you did to protect the honor of a girl he's not in love with. Now, put me down, and I'll tell you what you have to do.

  Nick put Vinny down and gave him his best scowl.

  Damn. Nick should have known Vin would be anything but helpful.

  “Okay, first thing you need to do is spill your guts. Just remember, never, ever, say anything about the fact that she was the reason you did wrong. You've got to suck it up and say the dreaded words. You might want to write these down and practice in front of a mirror.” Vinny handed Nick a bar napkin and a pen.

  “It's all my fault. I was stupid, and I wasn't thinking. You're absolutely right. I don't want to lose you, and I'll do anything if you'll give me another chance.”

  Nick stopped writing; he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

  “Why are you looking at me as if I grew another head?”

  “You actually say shit like this?”

  “Nick, you'll learn that it's a lot less painful to just get it over with quickly. In her eyes, you're always wrong. Until you grovel, life as you know it will never be the same. There will be no sex, no peace, and if she's like Mona, no sleep until you crawl on your belly like the snake that you are—that, my friend, is a direct quote.

  “The absolute worst thing you can do is tell her that if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have been forced to lie this whole time. You need to tell her exactly what she wants to hear.

  “It's not going to be pretty; expect yelling, tears. You may even have to duck if she loses it and throws something at you. You've got your work cut out for you, so you better get your ass in gear.”

  Vin took a bar rag and started polishing the bottles. “After you grovel, you're going to need to buy out a flower shop. Call Carmine's, have him make you up a nice expensive bouquet and keep them coming. Hit the chocolate place on Avenue M. They sell Godiva. Buy twice as much as you think one person can eat in a year. Women have bitchfests when their men do something stupid. They get together to discuss us, compare notes, and sympathize. She has to have enough chocolate to share.”

  Nick didn't grovel. He didn't bother telling Vinny that, because obviously, Vin had enough experience groveling to teach a class in that, too. Nick knew what Vinny didn't—once you grovel, they know they've got you hooked. Vinny was a perfect example. Mona'd had Vinny by the shorthairs for years.

  “Why should I grovel? I didn't do anything wrong— except for not telling Lee who I was in the beginning. But if you're right, she's known all along.”

  “You're telling me that you're not gonna take the hit? What are you, nuts? You finally find the right girl, and you're gonna let this blow up in your face? You're gonna lose her.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Nick, you've been putting pressure on Premier since the day you were canned because of that no-good Jack Lassiter, Jr. Have you done anything since you found out about Lee's involvement?”

  “No.” Nick fanned the napkins he'd been writing on and sat up straighter. “But that doesn't have anything to do with her.”

  “Sure.” Vinny took another sip of his drink and sat back looking smug. “You go right ahead and keep telling yourself that. But if you're stupid enough to believe it, you're more of a putz than I thought you were.”

  Nick finished his Jack and coffee, stood, and whistled for Dave. He'd been calling himself enough names lately; he didn't need Vinny's help.

  “Look, Nick. Think about what I said. If you're not ready to cut her loose, then don't. Try confessing your sins. Pretend you're talking to Father Francis. Who knows, maybe she's nothing like Mona, maybe she'll go easy on you.”

  Who knew that this would be so complicated or would smack so much of commitment? All this talk about love was enough to make him rethink the whole thing. But damn, the thought of the alternative was worse. Shit.

  Rosalie's intercom beeped and pulled her out of the quagmire that was her relationship with Nick. She'd spent the last week wondering what was wrong with him, and she'd made the decision to find out what it was, even if she had to break every rule in the book to do it. Gina's voice filled her temporary office.

  “Rosalie, there's a strange man on line one. He says his name is Leisure, and you'll know what it's regarding. He's even more cryptic than Nick, just Nick. Is he as good-looking?”

  A smile crossed Rosalie's face. Is Leisure good
-looking? She pictured her friend in her mind. Hmm. “Yeah, I guess he is, but I never thought of him like that.”

  “What? Is he your cousin or a priest or something?”

  “No, just a good friend. I'll take the call. Thanks, Gina.”

  “I live to serve.”

  With the smile still on her face, Rosalie punched the flashing button on her desk phone, slipped her pumps off, leaned back in her chair, and settled in for a good chat. “Leisure. Hi. How's it going?”

  “Are you alone, Rosalie?”

  Rosalie dropped her feet to the floor and back into her shoes. Sitting forward, she grabbed her pen and pulled out a fresh yellow pad. “Yeah. Why? What's wrong?”

  “You remember that issue you asked me to look into?”

  'The rumors about Premier Motors?”

  “That's the one. Well, it took some doing, but I got my hands on their file. It looks as if your suspicions were correct. There are notes about a telephone conversation regarding Lassiter, Premier, and their fiscal position. Are you still seeing Dominick Romeo?”

  “Yeah.” Rosalie cringed, dreading the answer but asking anyway. “What does Nick have to do with this?” She heard the blood rushing though her ears, and her face and hands got clammy. She waited for the answer for what seemed like an hour. “Leisure, you're scaring me. Tell me what you've found, and stop being so damned cloak-and-dagger about this.”

  “It's him, Rosalie. Dominick Romeo is sabotaging Premier Motorcars. He gave a laundry list of reasons we should no longer extend credit to Premier, Lassiter, and any customers he might have.

  “Honey, if word gets out that you're associated with him, you can kiss your job—hell, your career— good-bye.”

  “I can't believe it's Nick. I mean, the thought occurred to me… but—”

  “I don't know what to tell you, Rosalie, other than I've got notes in front of me regarding a conversation between Dominick Romeo and the senior VP of finance, as well as the fallout of said conversation. Your boyfriend implied that if we continued to handle Premier, we would lose his business. I don't need to tell you that Dominick Romeo's chain of dealerships means more to us than one dealership, even one as large as Lassiter's. And, if what Romeo said was accurate— and by virtue of your presence at Premier Motors, all evidence points to its validity—Premier is on precarious financial footing. Now just remember. You didn't hear any of this from me.”

  Rosalie's mind was spinning as she thanked Leisure and hung up the phone. She tried to rub the tension out of her neck, but the effort wasn't helping. Neither was Nick's name written in three-inch block letters on the yellow pad in front of her. Rosalie calmly took a red Sharpie out of her top desk drawer, pulled the cap off the marker and drew a thick “X” through the name. Then she picked up the phone and made a call. “Yes, this is Rosalie Ronaldi. I need to speak with Mr. Las-siter. It's urgent.”

  Nick sat at his desk twirling a pen between his fingers, back and forth, back and forth.

  Rosalie would be home in a couple of hours. After checking the clock for the hundredth time that day, Nick paced his office, trying to come up with the right words to tell her the truth. He stuck his head out the door. “Lois, is Ty back with Dave yet?”

  “No, they're at the body shop. Do you want me to call for them?”

  “No, that's okay. I'll wait.”

  “Nick? I don't mean to pry—”

  “Sure you do.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “What is it, Lois?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. What's wrong?” She held up a stack of letters he'd gone over earlier. “You were supposed to sign these. What did you do? Take them out of your in-box and stick them in your out-box?”

  “I don't know. I thought I had signed them. Here, I'll take care of them now.” He moved toward her desk. She dropped the letters, rolled her chair back, and stood.

  “Nick, I don't care about the damn letters, but if there's something wrong…” She came around the desk toward him, giving him the concerned-mother routine.

  “Nothing I can't handle.”

  She nodded, picked up the letters she'd dropped, handed them to him, and looked doubtful. “Maybe you should take Dave and Lee to your house in the Hamptons for a week. You haven't taken any time off in ages, except when Lee was sick, and that was no vacation. The beach in winter is so relaxing.”

  “I don't think so, Lois.”

  “Ty and I can take Dave, if that's a problem.”

  “No, Dave's not the problem, but thanks for the offer. I wasn't thinking when I started bringing Dave to the office. He's not going to be with us much longer. I know Ty loves him. I'm sorry.”

  “Something's wrong with Dave? Oh, God.” She stepped back and covered her mouth with her hand.

  “No.” He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Dave's fine. It's Lee. Things aren't going well.”

  “They aren't?” She covered his hand with hers. “Oh, Nick. Are you sure you can't work things out? I thought everything was different with Lee—better.”

  Nick shrugged off her hand and went back into his office. He heard footsteps behind him. He should have known better than to think Lois would let this drop. Damn, he was not in the mood to discuss his private life with his secretary.

  “You know, if you tell her everything, there's a chance she might forgive you and take you back. Personally, I'd start with telling her who you are. I mean, allowing her to believe you're the service manager is almost understandable, especially with your track record with women.”

  Nick chose not to mention that he suspected Rosalie knew who he was from the beginning. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “Nick, as long as I've known you, you've only dated plastic, shallow, money-hungry women. They've never lasted more than a month. I'm sure if you come clean with Rosalie before you get caught in your lies, she'll understand why you didn't correct her false assumption. Especially if you tell her the truth.”

  “The truth?”

  “Yes. She was the first genuine woman you've met in years, and you were afraid she wouldn't agree to see you if she knew your history with her brother.”

  “I was not afraid.”

  “Fine. Call it whatever your fragile male ego can live with.

  Now, (he rest is going to be more difficult You need to make sure she understands that you'd fallen in love with her long before you were aware of her position with Premier.” “What?”

  “You heard me. Telling her that you love her will take the sting out of it.”

  Great, first Vinny, now Lois. “But I don't.” “Don't what?” “I don't love her.”

  Lois looked up at him. “Oh, God. What is it with men?” Then she nailed him with her 'don't mess with me' glare. “You honestly believe you're not in love with Rosalie?”

  “Lois, you know me. I don't do love.”

  “You don't, huh? I guess you bring Dave here for your health. And Ty—you don't love him? He means nothing to you?”

  “Hold on. Ty has nothing to do with this.”

  'There's your mother, your grandmother, Vinny and his family, me and Tyler, Dave. Don't you see? You take care of the people you love. You're not good with the words, but your actions—they tell the real story. I knew you were in love with Rosalie as soon as I heard you had taken her to see Mike. When was the last time you made a doctor's appointment for one of your girlfriends?”

  “Lois, I like Lee. She's a friend.” Nick twirled his pen through his fingers. “But I don't love her.”

  A knock on the door interrupted Nick's explanation, which was a good thing, because he'd run out of reasons he didn't love Rosalie—he just didn't, that's all there was to it.

  Lois shook her head and reached for the door. Good, she was finished telling him how he felt. Women. They think they know everything. Before she opened the door, she turned. Shit.

  He took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.

  “Nick, I'm warning you. If you let Rosalie go, you'll spend the rest of your
life regretting it. Don't you see how lucky you are? This could very well be a once in a lifetime chance at true love. Don't let it go without a fight, because you're too stupid and closed-minded to admit the truth. You are not your father. Get over it already.”

  Nick was happy to hear the door slam behind her. Thank God that was over. He signed the letters, threw them in his out-box, and waited for Ty to bring Dave back. He wanted to go home, spend the night with Rosalie, hold her, make love to her, and ignore the internal countdown to his own personal D-day.

  When Rosalie entered the apartment, everything looked the same as it had that morning, but it felt different. It felt like it had before she'd met Nick, only cleaner.

  She shrugged off her coat, threw it on the couch, and sat on it. Nick had his running shoes placed neatly by the front door. The Frisbee he'd bought for Dave leaned against the wall in front of them. Nick's Polar fleece running jacket dangled on the hook next to where Dave's leash usually hung. His cell phone charger was on the buffet. He'd put it next to hers and neatly stowed all the cords. Everywhere she looked, Nick was there.

  Rosalie had come home early, because she needed to change for her meeting with Mr. Lassiter Sr. She'd never been to the Harvard Club, but knew her dress-down, Friday business-casual garb wouldn't exactly blend. She started stripping on the way to the bedroom and threw her clothes on the bed. Opening the closet, she picked out her best suit with the matching silk shell. Nick's clothes hung beside hers. His shoes were placed on the floor like little soldiers all lined up. She pulled on her skirt, stepped into her lucky shoes, turned, and faced the bed. The book Nick had been reading lay on the bedside table on his side of the bed. Oh, God. When had that become his side? When had they chosen sides? Rosalie slipped the shell over her head and shrugged into her jacket before sinking onto the bedspread of the expertly made bed. She opened the drawer, and sure enough, everything in there was Nick's. He'd moved in. They were living together. When had that happened?

  She was living… Hell, who was she kidding? She was in love with a man who'd spent their entire relationship lying to her. All this time, she'd kept telling herself he was lying about his identity because of his money, when from the get-go, she'd been nothing but a cog in the wheel of a master plan to take over Premier Motorcars. Shack up with the interim CFO and have all the information you need at your fingertips. God only knew what he'd learned. All those nights she'd brought home her computer, her files, Premier's financials. How could he do this to her?