Page 48 of Sexting the Don

Chapter 21

Mandy

Waking up to find the other side of the bed empty isn't a surprise.

Stretching out, I can't help but grin, feeling that telltale soreness that screams of a night well spent with Enzo. His absence is temporary, and physical reminders of our escapades are pleasantly lingering in every move I make.

Every time I'm here, I’m struck by the sheer scale of his room. Enzo's bedroom could easily swallow my garage apartment whole and still have space for a dance-off.

I wander over to the massive windows and take in the view—his backyard is something out of a magazine, with a pristine garden and woods all around. Living in luxury like this isn’t my norm, but man, could I get used to it.

Feeling a need to wash off the remnants of last night, I head for his ultra-sleek bathroom. The water pressure in the shower is a dream, and as I let the hot streams massage me, flashbacks from last night flood in—Enzo’s commanding hands, the way his voice dipped when he told me exactly what he wanted, our wild ride.Each memory sends a delightful shiver through me.

There’s a lot to sort out with my family mess, but right now, in the sanctuary Enzo’s given me, I’m going to soak in the peace and quiet. Here, in his world, I find a break from mine, and that’s something to hold onto.

Fresh out of the shower, I'm feeling all kinds of refreshed until a nasty wave of morning sickness hits me out of nowhere. I make a beeline for the toilet, grateful that in a place as grand as this, my not-so-fine moments are drowned out by the sheer space. After the unpleasantness, I brush my teeth, glad to be alone in the giant bathroom where my queasiness doesn’t have to be anyone else’s soundtrack.

Still feeling a bit off, the smell of cooking from downstairs isn't doing me any favors. My stomach churns but I clamp down on the feeling hard. I’m not ready to go public about the baby, especially not with the Jimmy drama still unfolding.

Thinking of my mom, I hustle to get dressed. She’s probably out there worrying about everything under the sun, and I need to check on her.

As I make my way into the kitchen, the scene in front of me throws me for a loop. There’s Mom, perched at the island bar like she owns the place, and Enzo, who’s flipping something in a pan that smells deliciously good. They’re deep in conversation, and seeing them together, chatting away so comfortably is kind of surreal.

Enzo looks up and spots me. Without missing a beat, he strolls over with that easy smile of his and plants a good morning kiss on my cheek.

"Morning, gorgeous. Go on and sit down. How do you feel about veggie omelets?" he asks as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to be cooking breakfast for us.

I nod, still a bit thrown off but pleasantly surprised. "Yeah, veggie omelets sound great," I manage, slipping into a seat at the bar next to Mom.

We settle in, and soon, we're all munching on arguably the best veggie omelets I've ever had. Mom leans back in her chair, looking more relaxed than I've seen her in days.

"Enzo, thank you again for letting us stay here," she says, her tone warm and grateful. "Your guest house is like something out of a dream.”

Then, with a sly glance my way, she adds, "I was beginning to wonder where Mandy had disappeared to last night," letting out a little chuckle. I feel my cheeks heat up but Enzo just laughs, the sound rich and genuine.

"The guest house is yours for as long as you need it, Florence. I’m just glad you both feel safe here," Enzo responds, his tone sincere.

The conversation flows easily as we continue to eat. Mom talks about the garden she spotted from the window and how she used to love gardening back when I was younger. Enzo joins in, sharing a few tips about the plants he's got and the best spots for the morning sun.

As we finish up, Mom stands and starts collecting the dishes, her old habits kicking in. "Let me help clean up. It's the least I can do."

Enzo immediately waves her off with a friendly grin. "You’re a guest here, Florence, and guests don’t do dishes. You just relax or get ready for work or whatever else you’d like to do."

She looks at him, a soft smile playing on her lips, clearly touched by his kindness. "You’re a good man, Enzo. Thank you again," she says, then adds as she heads toward the door, "I better go get ready for work."

"Wait, do you have a ride?" Enzo asks, concern flickering across his face.

Mom pauses, "I was planning on taking the bus, as usual."

"Not a chance with Jimmy possibly lurking around," Enzo says, his tone firm. "I’ve got a few cars in the garage. The keys are on the pegboard on the wall." He thinks for a moment, then suggests, "Take the Land Rover; it’s solid and safe."

"Thank you, Enzo. Really," Mom says, giving us both another grateful smile before heading out to get ready.

Once she’s gone, I turn to Enzo, a bit hesitant. "Mom and I will start looking for an apartment over the next couple of days. We don’t want to wear out our welcome here."

Enzo looks at me, his eyes serious. “You and your mom can stay as long as you need. There’s no rush, and you’re not wearing out any welcome. This is a safe place for you, for as long as you need it."

"Thanks, Enzo, I mean it," I tell him, appreciating his support but fully aware my mom isn't going to allow us to stay here for long. "But I know how she is. She's going to feel like she's imposing, no matter what you say."

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