Page 95 of Empire of Temptation

Gabi grunted and rolled his shoulder. “That is one way of putting it.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” He waved his hand. “But I’ve never seen him so mad over a woman before. He is making me move into the pool house.”

“Oh, my god. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slept over.”

“No, no. You don’t understand. My father has never allowed a woman to sleep over before. Not once. It is a big deal.”

My toes curled inside my heels as my stomach dipped. “Never?” I croaked.

“Never. He didn’t try to hide his mistresses, of course, but he didn’t bring them to the house. And he didn’t move them in. Capisce?”

I nodded like I understood, but I really didn’t. Luca didn’t bring women home? That didn’t make sense. He’d practically moved me in after one night together. “I’m not his mistress,” I mumbled.

“True.” Gabi didn’t look up from where he was slicing limes. “You’re his girlfriend.”

I gripped the edge of the bar as the words echoed in my head. Girlfriend? Really? Did that mean Luca was my boyfriend?

“Signorina!” Roberto called from across the room.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I left the bar and went to the reservation desk. Roberto took in my face. “What’s wrong? Why are you so pale?”

“It’s nothing. Who did you want to talk about?”

Roberto asked me questions about some of the reservations, townspeople he didn’t know, and we discussed who needed VIP treatment. I pointed to the mayor’s reservation. “You saw this, right? He won’t pay, but we should treat him well.”

“He will pay,” Roberto said. “No one gets a free meal here.”

“But the mayor?—”

“Will pay his bill, signorina. Don’t worry. Now, this person here.” Roberto gestured to a name I didn’t know. “He is a food influencer with over a million followers.”

“What? Oh, my god. How did he find out about us?”

“The new social media account.” Roberto had started it a few days ago, mostly posting pictures of Giovanni and his food, and we had over twenty thousand followers.

“Should I say hi? Bring him a free drink?”

“I’ll take care of that. You should enjoy yourself this evening.Leave the little things to me, including this person.” He pointed to another name. “This is a food critic from theTimes.”

I felt dizzy, so I grabbed the wooden stand. “TheTimes,as inTheNew York Times?”

“Sì, signorina.”

“What the fuck? On opening night?”

“They generally come more than once before writing the review, so don’t worry.”

Strangely, this did not make me feel better. “Does Giovanni know all this?”

“Yes, he does. I’ll remind him and the waitstaff as the tables are seated, however.”

I placed a hand on my stomach, hoping to settle it down. “Okay. Any other news I should know?”

“Mr. DiMarco has requested a table with you at nine-thirty. I blocked it here,” he said and tapped a reservation marked with the initials LDVM.

“You know his name isn’t DiMarco,” I said quietly. Roberto was well aware of Luca’s identity and profession.

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