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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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You did WHAT?”

She’d never seen such displeasure on her father’s face.

She and Gloria had been called to her father’s house in the middle of the night, supposedly after Marcus gave his report. Chrissy was absolutely miserable. But she refused to bend under the weight of her father’s disapproving stare. The whole plan to marry her off to a Rocco man was crazy. She leveled her chin and looked straight into her father’s eyes.

“She didn’t know,” Gloria said.

Chrissy had no idea what Gloria meant. “Look, I’m sorry I disappointed you. But—”

“No buts, young lady,” her father said sternly. He scoffed. “Now we have to offer apologies to the Roccos. Who knows if this whole thing is blown to hell. We’ll be lucky if we don’t go to war.”

“Papa, I hardly think—”

“I told you to be quiet!” he snapped.

“Papa,” Gloria said, “she really didn’t know.”

Vincenzo Serafina glared at Gloria. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, Papa” Gloria started, obviously tongue-tied, “you see, Chrissy arrived after Marcus and I did, and when I didn’t see her car I told Marcus to wait outside for her—”

“Get to the point!” their father rumbled ominously.

“When Chrissy came in, they had a fight in the bar—”

Minga!” Vincenzo erupted, “What fight? Who?!” He glared at Marcus, who shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“I’m sorry, Mr. S, but he was bothering Chrissy.”

“He was arguing with Chrissy after she slapped him,” Gloria added unhelpfully.

“WHAT!” their father roared. A string of Italian invectives fell from his mouth. “Why, by all that’s holy, did you strike the man? How does that look in front of the Roccos?” Now his gaze turned to Chrissy, full of the fires of hell, and Chrissy knew that she was not going to come out of this conversation unscathed.

“He was being awful to her, Papa,” Gloria pleaded, “saying hateful things.”

“Stay out of this,” Chrissy hissed. She was a smart woman, but she was becoming increasingly confused. She didn’t understand why her father was upset she’d struck Saks. What did that have to do with the whole issue? Was he all that concerned with appearances in front of the Roccos? Perhaps so. It wasn’t ladylike to strike a man, even if he was too damn cocky for his own good.

And then the memory of Saks fingering her in the back room caused a blush to creep up her face. No. She wasn’t ladylike at all.

She shook her head. She’d grown past ancient familial expectations for her behavior. No. She agreed to go along with the crazy charade for Gloria’s sake.

“Papa, why are you so upset? Look, I didn’t mean to knee him in the balls. It wasn’t my most graceful moment—”

Her father grew red in the face. “Maronna mia!” he spouted, and then rattled off so many words in Italian she couldn’t follow him.

“Papa,” Gloria implored. “Please calm down. Remember your heart.”

“Heart?” Chrissy asked. “What about Papa’s heart?”

“He needs some stents put in,” Gloria said.

“Gloria!” Vincenzo scolded.

This information landed on Chrissy with the explosive force of a mortar shell. “Why wasn’t I told?”

Her father waved his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing,” he said. “The doctors are just looking to make a quick buck.”

“No, they’re not!” Gloria said emphatically. “Look, Papa. Marcus will go talk to the Roccos, okay? And make it right.”

“Gloria,” Marcus said warningly.

“No, Marcus. Gloria’s right. You go to the Roccos and offer our apologies, and this time,” he said, glowering at Chrissy, shaking his finger at her, “you act like a proper lady. You will meet the Rocco man, and no violence. You got me?”

Chrissy swallowed hard. She didn’t know her father was sick and needed surgery. And she certainly wasn’t going to do anything to make him more upset, no matter how crazy his plans were. One thing was for sure: She and Gloria were going to have a serious talk about keeping secrets. “Okay, Papa. I’m sorry I upset you.”

Vincenzo Serafina walked from behind his desk to his eldest daughter, and patted her on the cheek. “That’s my good girl,” he said. “You’ll make it right.”

The French doors opened to the study, and Chrissy’s mother stood there in her bathrobe. “What is all this at this time of night?” she said sternly.

“Nothing, nothing,” Vincenzo soothed, walking toward his wife and waving her away. “Go back to bed.”

“You’re the one who needs to be in bed. Get back there now, or I’ll call the doctor and tell him you’re ignoring his orders.”

Vincenzo grumbled but moved toward the door. He turned, though, and shook his finger at Chrissy, Gloria, and Marcus. “No more screw-ups.”

When their parents had left, Chrissy turned to Gloria. “How could you keep something like this from me!”

“I’ve barely seen you,” Gloria said defensively.

“In the past few months? Bullshit!”

“Papa didn’t want you to know. He was afraid you’d turn it into a reason not to get married. ‘Oh, my father’s sick and I just can’t bear to contemplate my own happiness.’”

“That’s horse shit.”

“That’s Papa.”

“How sick is he?”

“He’s supposed to stay in bed until the surgery.”

“Oh, fucking great.”

“What are you girls still doing here?” their mother asked. “It’s nearly midnight. Go home! You should be in your own beds.”

“Of course, Mama,” Gloria said. “We’re going now.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes but then gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry for waking you, Mama. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The three of them filed out of the house and to their cars.

“I’ll talk to you,” Chrissy said ominously to Gloria, “when you get home.”

Gloria flicked her hand at her. “You’ll be waiting then, because I’m spending the night at Marcus’. Ciao!” Gloria waved and slung herself into Marcus’s SUV, leaving Chrissy to stew about the night’s events.

As they pulled away, Chrissy thought uncharitably that it was a good thing that Gloria was getting out of her line of fire. Though she’d agreed to help her sister, these things went far beyond what Gloria should be doing. This entire family were idiots. So were her bosses. She wrenched her car door open and got in. Pulling onto the main road, she glared at the street in front of her. Everybody apparently seemed to know what was best for her, and yet no one would let her make up her own mind.

And what the hell about tonight? Gloria going on as if she knew something about Saks that Chrissy didn’t. Damn it!

She fumbled for her phone inside her purse one-handed, and pulled it out. “Siri, call Gloria.”

The phone connected and her sister picked up on the third ring.

“What!” Gloria spat. She was breathing hard.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Can’t you keep a lid on it for five minutes?” Wasn’t Marcus driving?

“It’s Chrissy, babe. Give me a minute.” Gloria giggled and Chrissy rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“What do you know about Saks?”

Gloria laughed cockily. “Funny how things turn out.”

“What’re you talking about? What’s going on?”

“You didn’t give anyone a chance to tell you anything. You just came out swinging. And then kneed the poor guy in the balls.” She started laughing again and didn’t seem to be able to control it.

“What the h—”

But Gloria didn’t give her a chance to finish. “Gotta go,” she choked out. The line clicked off and when Chrissy hit her steering wheel in frustration, her phone fell out of her hand into the dark interior of her vehicle.

“Fuck!” she screamed at the car and empty road.

The clock in her car informed her it was after midnight by the time she pulled into her parking place in her apartment complex. She sighed with relief. It was a long and aggravating day, and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until Monday morning.

Monday, though, was going to be another difficult day. What was she going to do? Show up at work as if nothing happened at Drummond’s place, especially after she announced that she had another job offer? What kind of fallout would that mean? It’s not like she could stay at her job now.

Could she pretend she was working out a two-week notice as she looked for something else? Would they allow her to? Many companies would walk someone out the door if they knew an employee had something else lined up. Mentally, Chrissy ran through her financial assets. She had some money socked away in the bank that would get her through a few months. If she had to, she could cash in her 401K, but that was a last resort. Maybe she could file for unemployment. Drummond did draw her to his house under false pretenses and made a move on her. That had to count for something, a hostile work environment, right? She didn’t know, and she sighed when she realized she’d have to consult a lawyer to find out. Right now, all of it was too much to process.

She switched on the overhead light in the car and searched for her missing phone. The problem was that in a big car like a Cadillac there were a million places for a small thing like a phone to hide. Chrissy checked the sides of the seats and between them. It was only when her phone rang that she discovered it at her feet under the seat. She panicked, thinking the worst had happened, and her father had a heart attack from the night’s stress. She swore as she fished around and finally closed her hand around the device.

“Hello!” she said breathlessly.

“Um, hi. How are you doing?”

Oh hell. Saks. What was he doing calling her now? “You call me after midnight to ask how I’m doing?”

“Excuse me,” he said, sounding put-off. “I thought I’d apologize for getting all handsy, but I can see it was a wasted call.”

“Sorry, Saks. It’s been a rough night.”

“Yeah, I know something about that. And I’m sorry for my part in it.”

He was apologizing? She was the one who’d caused him grievous injury and he was sorry? She didn’t deserve this. “We’re both pretty sorry, aren’t we?”

“I guess.” Saks’ voice trailed off, and she was afraid he was going to come up with a lame goodbye and she wouldn’t hear from him again.

Would that be so bad? she asked herself. A resounding ‘yes’ came from somewhere in her brain. Or was it the region between her legs? She was having a difficult time deciding where her decisions came from lately. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” he said. His voice was lined with pain, and she swore at her clumsiness. She wouldn’t hurt Saks for the world.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“What? Clipping me in the family jewels? Nah. There’s only one way you can hurt me.”

“How’s that?”

“If you turn me down for dinner tomorrow night.”

Oh, damn.