CHAPTER 4
Talia groaned from under her pillow and cursed at whoever was calling. Once in the cab with Enzo, heading to his hotel that he’d been so kind to inform her the name and location, she’d shot her bosses an email with an update and, with much restraint, requested the morning off. After dropping Enzo off and heading home, she’d never felt so excited to go back to that tiny one bedroom apartment. Shaking, almost frozen stiff, she’d quickly changed into her pajamas and burrowed under her thick duvet and waited for warmth to thaw out her frozen limbs. It was the best morning sleep she’d ever had.
Correction, she thought with a groan as the persistent ringing grew louder, it was almost the best morning sleep.
Back at home she pressed the pillow against her ear and pleaded with her phone. “Just die. You always die on me when I don’t want you to. Now I want you to.”
The ringing stopped and Talia smiled with contentment, emerging from under her pillow. She should check the time-No! I want sleep. Nothing but hours of owed sleep. It couldn’t be afternoon yet anyway. She still felt so tired.
Just when the sweet pull of sleep started, the phone rang again.
She turned her face into her pillow and screamed. Talia pushed up into a sitting position and grabbed her phone, not bothering to check the caller ID.
“What-” before she could scream the few choice words her tongue was begging to unleash, a louder voice cut her off.
“Miss McKenna, it’s about damn time you answered your phone!”
The words that followed, she didn’t catch even one. She knew it was Italian, but he spoke in such rapid succession it all went over her head. Enzo. She was sure it was him. It was impossible to forget that annoying, patronizing voice of his. He hadn’t even bothered to say hallo-she looked at the alarm clock on her bedside table-or even good morning.
She whimpered, thinking of the two hours she had left of sleep before being rudely woken -why was he calling anyway?
Talia rubbed her eyes with her fingers as she tried to pull her translator out of sleep mode and concentrate on what Mr. Polite was saying. Talia looked up, lifting away from her hand and opening her eyes when she caught the words food and yacht.
“Signore Romano, why are you asking me about food for the yacht?” she asked in Italian.
Silence was what she got in response and she wondered if feeding DeLuca and his grumpy friend were also part of her responsibilities. She pulled the phone from her ear and opened her email app. Still no itinerary. She was beginning to wonder if whoever was responsible for sending it was not doing so on purpose. The moment she found out who it was, she was going to give their number to Enzo Romano. Let’s see how they like being chewed out in native Italian.
“Breakfast is long past Miss McKenna,” he shot back with clear restraint.
She snorted, shifting the phone back to her ear. “I’m well aware of that,” she said. She’d slept through it, like she had told everyone concerned she would. “I’ll…” What? When all she wanted to do was pretend she never got the call and go back to sleep. “I’ll organize brunch for him. Will that do?”
“Si. Sii veloce al riguardo!” Then the line immediately went dead.
Talia stared at her phone with a raised brow. ‘Be quick about it.’ This reminded her of her intern year when she’d been close to adding a laxative in the coffee of one particularly bitchy superior.
How long were they going to stay again? They were clearly going to have some problems. It was still day one, less than twelve hours had passed since they first met and she was already wondering if he had any allergies that would make his tongue swell up. Not kill him, just expand enough in his mouth to make him mute.
Grumbling, Talia pushed off the bed and dragged herself to the shower. She stopped at the bathroom door wondering if she even had time for a shower. Hell yes! They may have stolen her sleep time but they won’t take her bathroom time from her.
She stripped, kept her satin sleeping cap on and pulled a shower cap over it and stepped into the shower. She started with warm water then a blast of cold to wake her up. Once done, she walked out of the bathroom when a thought struck her and she started laughing.
She had no idea where Mr. DeLuca was. “Fantastic!”
Calling Enzo back and asking was a hell no. The office was clearly not playing ball. Who else-Joe! He was DeLuca’s designated driver so he must know where he is at all times.
Talia dashed for her phone and dialed Joe’s number. While it rang on loudspeaker, she reached for a pair of shorts, a tank top and a long flimsy sweater from her closet. Not professional? Too bad. It’s not working hours-for her at least.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.
“Halo?” Joe’s bass voice filled her room.
“Hi Joe. It’s Talia. We met last night at the airport.”
Livelier, he said, “Yeah, hi. Did you get back okay?”
It still annoyed Talia how DeLuca had left, taking the only means of transport with him. It had taken ages to get a cab, and with Enzo with her, the time dragged on even longer. He didn’t speak to her once and every attempt to strike up a conversation was met with a ‘why’ stare. It would have been better to be stranded alone.
“Yes, we did. Hey, do you have DeLuca’s address?” she asked as she got dressed.
“Address, you mean where he is currently staying?”
“Yeah.”
A chuckle sounded before he asked, “You still don’t have his schedule, do you?”
She smiled unamused and responded, “I guess it’s being snail mailed to me.”
He laughed. “Let me text you.”
“Thanks Joe, you’re a lifesaver.”
Joe hung up. As she was getting her tennis shoes on, a message pinged on her phone. From Joe, with the address. She needed to remember to get him a cup of coffee to say thanks. He seemed to be the only one giving her information on DeLuca. She checked her text and doubled back.
“He’s staying at the harbor?” she asked herself.
Did he get a yacht Air bnb? She thought with a laugh. There was no way. Then she remembered he’d hired some fancy collection item. Was that the Air bnb? Or should she say Water bnb? She snickered at the old man joke. But why, when there were perfectly good hotels he most definitely could afford? Personally, she could never live on water, just like how she was afraid of being in the air for more than ten hours straight. She couldn’t do it without a Xanax or a knockout sleeping pill. She liked her feet on the ground. Steady. Firm.
After tying her curly hair back and away from her face with a bandana and putting on her Black Bay Bronze wrist watch-a congratulatory gift to herself for getting employed in one of the most coveted companies in the world-she grabbed her boho fringe bag and her phone and made her way out of the apartment. She was lucky just a block away was a pastry store that also served breakfast to go. She looked at her wrist watch, it was nine thirty-now she could kill Enzo-and checked the Google map on the phone to find out how long it would take her by cab to her destination. If she was going to get a hot sandwich or eggs, she needed to be mindful that the food didn’t sweat and become soggy. It may be the beginning of fall but the summer heat was still with them during the day.
It took her twenty minutes from the pastry shop to the harbor. After her ten minute walk and wait, she made good time for brunch. Now, she just had to navigate the last problem. She looked at the numerous rows of boats and wondered how she was supposed to find the right one.
What was that stupid boat-no, no, yacht-what was that stupid yacht called again?
“Sorry, are you Talia McKenna?”
She turned to the scratchy voice that surprisingly belonged to a middle aged looking man. Cigarettes no doubt.
“Yes, and you are?” she asked cautiously with a polite smile. It was stupid to admit her identity to a total stranger, but the way her day was going and the pace it had set for the rest of it, being kidnapped didn’t sound so bad.
“Your friend Joe just called, said to show you the right boat,” he said with a raised brow and a kind smile.
If Talia was the hugging type, she would hug him, hell, even give him a kiss. “That would be awesome.”
He nodded. “Follow me,” he said and walked ahead of her.