Chapter 38: Chapter 38

◆ MILES ◆

A brunch date. With her new number one fan.

Sure. Whatever it takes...

Suck it up for half an hour or so.

Whatever it took to get her attention, I would oblige her willingly. Even if it meant having to sit through an awkward brunch, with her newest admirer showing all the wrong reasons she should hang out with the guy, I would shut up and not complain one bit.

Mykaela might walk out on me if I actually said I didn't want Lorenzio Tomassini anywhere near her. The guy even had the entire restaurant closed up just to "get some privacy"...for him, probably, as well as his parade of gun-strapped overdressed bodyguards who didn't know the word "discreet".

What a douche.

I reclined in my seat. Putting on a neutral expression took a great deal of patience, but, to get what I want, I'd better seem the supportive bestie than the irrationally jealous, clingy boyfriend. It's not like Mykaela saw me in that light, anyway.

For the next minute, I watched her hide behind the colorful menu. She was pretending to be busy choosing from the long selection, and her furtive glances just annoyed me more.

It left a weird ache in my chest. Like she couldn't even look at me for more than a second. It probably had something to do with Lorenzio practically hugging her close while the douche sat next to her.

If I had the choice of spending time with her alone today, in a blink I would've declined the guy's off-the-cuff invitation. But Mykaela asked me to say yes and come with, and I just couldn't say no to her beautiful, hopeful eyes ten minutes ago.

"Take your time," Lorenzio said to her with a slanted grin. The guy kept staring at her profile. His chair stayed too close to hers that his sleeves touched her sweater now.

It shouldn't bother me, but I couldn't stop my blood from simmering at the mere sight of the two being in close proximity. "She'll have the quinoa salad and steak, medium-rare." I glanced up at the patient waiter. "Same for me."

"Two steaks and quinoa salad. Noted. Nothing to add, Miss?"  The waiter turned to Mykaela, who now looked too confused to speak.

I sat still and watched her reaction shift. Her brows slightly creased at my cheeky gesture but she instantly put on a smile for the waiter.

"Just water. Thanks," she replied to the waiter. Mykaela then turned to Lorenzio when the guy asked her something in Italian.

I had to lean forward to overhear their quiet conversation. The TVs in two corners of the dining area were left on high volume.  Then I heard the douche chatting her up about school and the weather.

The fucking weather.  How original.

I rolled my eyes. I'd rather shoot myself dead than admit I felt like the third wheel in this scenario.

"Have to be back in an hour. Lab class." Kel gave Lorenzio a quick smile that curved her pale  lips.

"Lorenzio, can we discuss the latest revision?" I stared at the guy in the flashy three-piece suit, opting to strike a casual conversation about our families' recent business transactions. It was part of the reason I flew to New York.

"Do we have to?" Instead of answering me directly, Lorenzio started texting on his phone. "I thought the lawyers took care of that."

"The seniors insisted we go over the terms again." I kept staring at the guy to distract him from talking to Mykaela again.  "Can't get a hold of your brother these days. Is Leandro in Florence?"

"Amsterdam, last I checked. Can we talk business another time?" Lorenzio squinted at me. A hint of condescension slanted his grin. "I'm seriously exhausted. Been working overtime all week."

The phoney friendliness he displayed made my skin prickle in chafe. I knew for a fact he didn't want to have  lunch with me, either. If only Mykaela didn't ask for me to come, no way would he even ask me to join them out of courtesy.  "Time and place? I'll need to check my schedule."

"Fine." Lorenzio sighed with another fake smile on his stubbled face. "What about the revisions?"

"55-45 sound doable? Best numbers we can offer right now."  I recalled the other talking points Ricchar texted me last night.

The new contract said: almost 60 percent of the profits for the Tomassinis, and the rest for SF Shipping. That was for every delivered shipment. Didn't that sound like a lucrative deal already? I just wanted to get it over with.

The sooner I could convince the Tomassinis to revise the terms, the sooner I could go back to my simple, migraine-free country life. It would be my only ticket out of this corporate job.

"The 60-40 agreement is final, I'm afraid." Lorenzio tsk-ed. "My brother's a monster at haggling, Maxim. Once Leo sets his mind on something, very unlikely of him to retract his initial decisions."

"I'm well aware." I grinned and faked a nod of accord after my hand clenched into a fist under the table. Did he just call me by my nickname?  We weren't friends—business friends, maybe. But acquaintances sounded much more appropriate.

What's worse? Mykaela kept staring at her phone, as if she couldn't care less about the conversation, or me being here.

"Leandro won't meet with you if you don't have plans to settle. Unless Stefano agrees that we buy 51 percent of Luxoria shares." Lorenzio chuckled and winked at me.

Buy out more than half of our clan's hotel chain business? Was he insane? I wanted to laugh at the ludicrous proposition, but I preferred to keep my cool.

Lorenzio's millionaire playboy reputation was more known to the public, but the prick also knew how to play the corporate game like a pro. Which didn't really surprise me. The Tomassinis' supremacist and tyrannical nature wasn't a secret.

"So?" Lorenzio raised a questioning brow at me after a moment of silence.

The anger boiling in my veins forced me to raise a finger and grab my ringing phone.  The screen displayed Ricchar's name again. "Excuse me. Need to take this."

"Sure." Lorenzio put an arm around Mykaela's shoulders, making her glance up from her phone. "We'll wait for the food."

"Won't take long," I replied as I gazed into her watchful, slightly anxious pale green eyes. I got up from my chair to head to the men's room.

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Five minutes of actual privacy. Hopefully that'd be enough.

The restroom gave me a reprieve from the noise outside once I shut the door. I took the call and leaned against the lavatory, hoping Ricchar had good news for me today. For a change.

"Maxim, you're in New York? Zia just called me."

"Yeah. Why?" I put my phone on the sink to massage my throbbing forehead. A dull ache radiated from the back of my neck all the way to my temples. My pale reflection in the wide mirror also warned me of another afternoon ruined by another unrelenting headache. Shit. Not again. "I'm with Mykaela."

"Finally paid her a visit?" Ricchar's tone sounded teasing. "How's she doing?"

"Busy with school." I let out a sigh. "And Lorenzio."

"Lorenzio? So it's true?" Ricchar snickered. "Say hi for me."

"You home?" I frowned and massaged the side of my head.  "What's up?"

"Took Cloe to the fertility doctor again. Just heard Lorenzio's in New York, too. You two met up?"

"He dropped by her school. We followed him and his fuckin' entourage." I grunted. Something ached in the back of my head. Not the usual headache. It was a different sensation that felt rather familiar now. It poked my brain with needle-like stings and a slight pressure, making me wince every few seconds. "A retinue. In broad daylight."

"You're no different, though," my cousin reminded with a laugh. "You told her about the deal?"

"No. He keeps followin' her around." I glanced at the doorknob to check if it was locked. "My head's actin' up again." Something in my aching skull almost threatened to squeeze the air out of my lungs. "Shit."

I spent the next seconds letting out my frustration with unrestrained cussing. My hands slightly paled now, so I fished the orange bottle of pills from my coat pocket. I popped the last two tablets into my mouth. It was 500 milligrams but it might not be enough to get me through the day.

"Now?" Ricchar muttered. "Are you still taking pills for the pain?"

"I just ran out."

"Ask her to help you out," Ricchar answered in his usual terse chitchat tone.

"We're in a restaurant, for fuck's sake."

"When's the last time you had a refill?"

"Two weeks ago."

"I told you: call up that pharmacist." Ricchar tried a calmer, more sympathetic tone this time. " Try a higher dosage, but not regularly."

I made a face at his advice. "That pharmacist" meant I'd have to proposition and bribe another drug dealer somewhere in Italy.  No time for that shit. So I'd have to improvise soon.

"How long you gonna stay there?"

"Not long. You got any contacts here in New York?" I muttered, actually curious if he knew any harmless dealers here in the city. Now my back muscles just stiffened.   Although I wasn't the religious type, I made up a quick prayer in my head.  Maybe this was God's punishment for the hundreds of church days I'd intentionally missed, and for being possibly the worst Catholic to ever exist.  Next to my father, of course.

"Not our turf, so, no. I don't.  Just ask her. She'll help you out," Ricchar suggested. "Look. It's just for now, because you're still adjusting."

"You got magic pills for this? Such a fuckin' hassle."

"I wish." Ricchar chuckled at my complaining.

"Try cooking something new. We'll market the shit out of that to college kids." I tried to stand up straight, but my head just ached so bad, as if something just split in half inside my skull. Groans of pain escaped my clamped lips and echoed in the empty restroom. Right now, I could only wish the pain pills would outmatch the blinding pain.

"It's the stress; I get it. But it's not always gonna be this difficult," Ricchar told me in a fairly convincing tone. His bargaining tone, as far as I could tell.

"What d'you mean?"

"You have abilities, well-honed special skills—we all know that. You just don't know what to do with them yet, or how to make use of them to...y'know, do your job better."

Abilities? I scoffed at the comment.

"But once you figure everything out, you'll be able to manage it better. Less stress for you then."

How?  Did I have superpowers now?  Superhuman strength? Shooting laser beams through my eyes? Moving faster than the speed of light?

As far as I recalled, this damned job only brought me constant pain, self-doubt, burgeoning anxiety I could not control, and recurring self-hate that pushed me to numb myself with prescription drugs again.  Did that sound anything like a special skill?

"Just talk to Lorenzio," Ricchar sighed. "Convince him to get his brother on board with the latest proposal."

"How? He doesn't even wanna talk to me."

"You haven't even tried yet. Give it a go first, and then call me to complain."

"I'm having lunch with him and Mykaela now, idiot."

"So get on it." Ricchar chuckled at my annoyance.  "Your Pappa's counting on it." His seriousness lowered his voice now. "We can't fully trust the Tomassinis yet."

"Can't imagine why," I retorted.

How ironic. Pappa and the Falco seniors planned to merge with a bigger clan of influential businessmen they couldn't even trust yet.  Nothing new, though.  Stefano Falco didn't trust anyone. Not even the other members of our clan. I knew why but I just didn't care. I just wanted to get this whole merger deal over with.

"He wants you to convince them changing some of the terms will be better for both parties. Have Leandro sign the revised contract within this month," Ricchar said, referring to the more successful Tomassini heir, Enzo's older brother, Leandro. The guy could very well replace the dying Luciano Tomassini soon.

"I said I'm workin' on it." I glared at the phone screen as I tried to stifle another groan. The pain continued to intensify behind my eyes and forehead. The fact that my father was shoving another ultimatum onto my already full plate was only worsening this stupid headache. "Can't he just wait?"

Ricchar mumbled something and sighed. "Need I remind you patience is not in his vocabulary?"

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