Return of the Italian Tycoon. Jennifer Faye
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you didn’t do anything about her being sick?”
“What was I supposed to do? I asked if she needed anything. She said no, that it was some sort of flu bug. What else was I supposed to do?”
Angelo’s hand waved around as he flew off in a string of Italian rants. Taking a calming breath, he stopped in front of the windows and stared blindly at the snow. “And it took her confessing she was pregnant for you to figure it out?”
“Like you would have figured it out sooner? What do either of us know about pregnant women...unless there’s something you haven’t told me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Angelo had no intention of getting married and having a family. Not now. Not ever.
“She didn’t have any choice but to come clean when I offered her some wine. She knew she couldn’t drink it. Hard to believe that you and I will be uncles this time next year.”
“Don’t tell me you’re happy about this development?”
“I’m not. But what do you want me to do?”
“Find out the father’s name for starters.”
“I tried. She’s being closemouthed. All she said was that she couldn’t drink the wine because she’s eight weeks pregnant. Then she started to cry and took off for her room.”
“Didn’t you follow? How could you have just let her get away without saying more?”
“How could I? I sure don’t see you here trying to deal with an emotional pregnant woman.”
How had things spun so totally out of control? Angelo’s entire body tensed. And more importantly, how did he fix them? How did he help his sister from so far away?
Angelo raked his fingers through his hair. “She has to tell you more. How are we supposed to help if we don’t even know which man is the father. She isn’t exactly the sort to stay in a relationship for long.”
“Trust me. I’ve tried repeatedly to get his name from her. Maybe she’ll tell you.”
That wasn’t a conversation Angelo wanted to have over the phone. It had to be in person. But he was in the middle of overseeing a number of important projects. Now was not the time for him to leave New York. But what choice did he have? This was his baby sister—the little girl he remembered so clearly running around with a smile on her face and her hair in braids.
But a lot of time had passed since he’d left Italy. Would she open up to him? The fact his leaving hadn’t been his idea didn’t seem to carry much weight with his siblings, who were left behind to deal with their dysfunctional parents. Though he dearly missed his siblings, he didn’t miss the constant barrage of high-strung emotions of his parent’s arguments and then their inevitable reunions—a constant circle of epic turmoil.
Maybe the trouble Marianna had got herself into was some sort of rebellion. With their parents now living in Milan, there was only Nico at home to cope with their sister. And to Nico’s credit, he never complained about the enormous responsibility leveled solely on his shoulders.
Now that their parents had moved on, Angelo didn’t have any legitimate excuse to stay away. But every time the subject of his visiting Monte Calanetti surfaced, he pleaded he had too much work to do. It was the truth—mostly. Perhaps he should have tried harder to make more time for his siblings.
Stricken with guilt, anger and a bunch of emotions that Angelo couldn’t even name, he couldn’t think straight. As the oldest brother, he was supposed to look out for his brother and sister. Instead, he’d focused all of his time and energy on creating a thriving, wildly successful company.
In the process, he’d failed their wayward and headstrong sister.
And now her future would forever be altered.
He owed it to Marianna to do what he could to fix things. But how could he do that when he was so far away?
THIS ISN’T GOOD. Not good at all.
Kayla pressed Save on the computer. She needed to give Mr. Amatucci some space. She reached for her wallet to go buy a—a—a cocoa. Yes, that would suit the weather outside perfectly.
She got to her feet when her boss slammed down the phone. He raked his fingers through his short hair and glanced at her. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”
The weariness in his voice tugged at her sympathies. “Um...well, I thought that I’d go get some um...cocoa—”
“The Van Holsen account. We were talking about how we need to put a rush on it.”
“Um...sure.” She sat back down.
Kayla wasn’t sure how to act. She’d never before witnessed her boss seriously lose it. And who exactly was Marianna? Was it possible Mr. Amatucci really did have a life outside this office—one nobody knew about? The thought had her fighting back a frown. Why should it bother her to think that her boss might have fathered a baby with this woman? It wasn’t as if they were anything more than employee and employer.
Mr. Amatucci stepped up to her desk. “I’ll need to go over this with you tomorrow afternoon.”
“Tomorrow?”
She knew that he asked for the impossible at times and this happened to be one of those times. He’d caught her totally off guard. It’d take time to think out innovative ideas for the new campaign platform. And she had an important meeting that night, but there was no way she was telling her boss about that.
Mr. Amatucci arched a brow at her. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Uh...no. No problem.” She would not let this opportunity pass her by. “I’ll just finish up what I was working on, and I’ll get started.”
He paused as though considering her answer. “On second thought, it’d be best to go over your ideas first thing in the morning.”
“The morning?”
His gaze narrowed in on her, and she wished that her thoughts would quit slipping across her tongue and out her mouth. It certainly wasn’t helping this situation. She was here to impress him with her capabilities, not to annoy him when he was obviously already in a bad mood.
“Ms. Hill, you seem to be repeating what I say. Is there some sort of problem I should be aware of?”
She hated that he always called her Ms. Hill. Couldn’t he be like everyone else in the office and call her Kayla? But then again, she was talking about Angelo Amatucci—he was unlike anyone she’d ever known.
He was the first man to set her stomach aquiver without so much as touching her. She’d been so aware of his mouth being just a breath away from her neck as he’d sniffed her perfume. The memory was still fresh in her mind. Was it so wrong that she hadn’t wanted that moment to end?
Of course it was. She swallowed hard. He was her boss, not just some guy she’d met at a friend’s place. There could never be anything serious between them—not that he’d ever even noticed her as a desirable woman.
“Ms. Hill?”
“No, there won’t be a...uh...problem.” Who was she kidding? This was going to be a big problem, but she’d work it out—somehow—some way.
Her gaze moved to the windows and the darkening sky. With it only nearing the lunch hour, it shouldn’t be so dark, which could only mean that they were going to get pounded with more snow. The thought of getting stuck at the office turned her nervous stomach nauseous.
Snow. Snow. Go away.
He gazed at her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you—”
“I