Forcing a smile, Brooke walked into the morning meeting with the confidence she needed to convince the client that they were the right company to move forward with.
Portia was online within minutes, and the split screen displayed everything they’d put together to make the client happy.
“We have a taste of the high-fashion world Downes desires without making it out of reach for others.”
“That’s a golf course?” Portia asked.
Brooke nodded. “Which is upper middle class, but still reachable.”
“What is this?”
“Downes’s line has enough edge to have a club feel. High-style ‘I want to be seen’ clothing,” Nayla said.
Brooke glanced at Mayson, who rolled his eyes. The idea had been Brooke’s and was coupled with Kayleigh’s image of the club scene. All of which came from Chloe’s thought of the braless blazer. Once that pearl had been placed in their heads, they all brainstormed, and even though Nayla was stuck on red carpets and Hollywood, they decided golf clubs was a better direction. And the women in those clubs weren’t all a size two or less.
Nayla put in her images of runway-ready models. Which they all agreed was the way to play it should Downes decide that the other ideas were not to his liking.
It took a few minutes, but Portia started to nod. “I like it.”
Brooke offered Mayson an under-the-table fist bump.
Portia sat forward. “What’s the next step?”
“Two ravioli al granchio. One gnocchi neri.” Luca called out the order as it came into his hands and moved to complete it even before his last word was uttered. The lunch rush was the busiest of the week. As a rule, he worked nights, but he wanted to keep the evening free for his daughter.
Chloe stood on the waiter’s side between the kitchen and the restaurant. “I need a bruschetta,” she told him.
Normally she’d put it with a written order, but occasionally it was verbal when it was for a table of VIPs or friends.
Luca acknowledged her with a nod, called it out to his team.
“How are you doing?” she asked when there seemed to be a lull.
“The busier I am, the better,” he admitted.
“How is Franny taking it?”
“She’s nervous.”
“We all are,” Chloe told him.
He appreciated that his sister felt the same way.
“And Brooke? Is she okay?”
The bruschetta was handed to him, and he placed it in the window.
“I haven’t told her.”
Chloe reached for the plate and stopped midstream. “Luca.”
“I know. I should have—”
“Brooke and I spoke yesterday. I told her about Antonia. Jesus, what is wrong with you two?”
He stopped in his tracks and stared at his sister. “You what?”
“I assumed you had told her. I mentioned it. Why didn’t you say something to her? Is it a secret?”
Suddenly the seafood ravioli and squid ink gnocchi didn’t matter. “Chloe!”
His sister lowered her voice and leaned in. “Antonia has already been around town. She’s looking for a place to stay. Do you want Brooke to find out about her from the town gossip? Or is there something else going on inside your head?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting you get your butt on the phone and call your girlfriend.”
Another order came in, and Luca called it out to his staff. “It’s going to have to wait.”
Chloe groaned, took her appetizer, and walked away.
Thirty minutes later there was enough of a lull in the kitchen for Luca to step out and called Brooke.
Thankfully, she picked up the phone.
“Hi, stranger.”
“It’s been hectic,” he started. “How are you?”
“Busy. I’m on a break right now, so I have a few minutes to talk.”
Luca stood outside the back door of the restaurant, away from the ears of his staff. “Chloe told me you spoke.”
It took a second for Brooke to respond. “Yeah. It’s crazy how she could find a minute to tell me what’s going on and you couldn’t.”
That made him look bad. “I honestly didn’t want to distract you from your work. I know how important this job is.”
“Considering how huge this is, I’d think . . . never mind.” Her words were sharp, anger laced her voice.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I should have said something.”
“When men keep things from women, there’s a reason. I shouldn’t be offended. We’re new. You don’t owe me anything.”
“Cara, don’t say that. I may not owe you anything, but I want to be here for you, and you for me.”
“I want to believe that.”
“You can.”
“We’ll see. How is Franny?”
“Seeing her mother this afternoon at the hotel.”
“Antonia is staying in a hotel?” Brooke asked.
“Yes. She wanted to stay here, but I said no. Put her in a hotel instead.”
“Wait, what? You’re paying for her hotel?”
He ran a hand through his hair. This was not going like he wanted it to. “Yes. It’s complicated.”
He heard Brooke’s nervous laugh over the line. “More complicated by the second.”
“None of this is making me look good, is it?”
“No.”
“She means nothing to me, Brooke.”
“You’re lying to yourself. If she meant nothing to you, she wouldn’t be in a hotel that you’re paying for. Here’s the thing . . . I’m going to put my feelings aside here for now. This is about Franny and how she’s handling all this. I have one piece of advice, if you want to hear it.”
“I’m listening.”
“Don’t say anything good or bad about Antonia in front of Franny. Don’t make one promise you can’t keep when it comes to her mom. She’ll hold it against you.”
“Thank you, cara.”
“You can thank me by not keeping shit from me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“And, Luca?”
“Yes.”
“If your feelings change about anything, tell me.”
“My feelings aren’t going to change.”
Brooke laughed. “People’s feelings change every day. I gotta go.”
“I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Bye.”
“Ciao.”
Luca disconnected the call. “Fuck!”
“That does not sound good,” Sergio said from the back door.
“Women.”
Sergio started laughing and continued to laugh as he walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Franny squeezed Luca’s hand in a death grip as they stood outside the hotel looking up at it.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
She shook her head, her face void of color. She wore a dress, one she picked out for one of those school performances where all the classmates stood onstage and sang for their parents. It was rose pink with ruffled sleeves and completely girlie. She picked out sparkly white sneakers after having a slight meltdown that the dressy white shoes she hated to wear didn’t fit any longer.