Page 40 of The Deal

“I completely agree,” he says, placing his flattened palms on the desk and pushing himself to a standing position.

I stop moving when he reaches for his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair and slides his arms into it. “Where are we going now?”

“You seem hangry, so I think an early lunch is in order.”

“Did you just say hangry?”

“Yes, Carmella informed me that a woman can become rather irate when hungry.”

This time, I smile. God, I love that woman. She’s the only thing keeping me grounded in this hellish mess I’m stuck in.

“I’m going to get fat if I keep eating at this rate,” I say, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my hand over my bloated stomach. “I’m surprised you’re so …” I let my words trail off because the last thing I want to do is compliment this man.

“Chiselled, ripped, sculpted?”

I roll my eyes, and he grins. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Just calling it as I see it,Tesoro.”

We both thank Carmella when she collects our plates. “Dinner was delicious,” I tell her. “My mother used to make a mean bucatini all’Amatriciana that tasted very similar. It was one of my favourite dishes growing up.”

“What part of Italy was your mother from?” she asks.

“Trapani.”

“Ah, such a beautiful place.”

“Itis. We used to holiday there every year when I was younger.”

“You haven’t been back as an adult.”

I blow out a puff of air. “No.”

“Mr Mancini pays for me to go to Italy every Christmas to visit my family.” My eyes dart to him as he clears his throat and bows his head. Is he uncomfortable with me knowing that? “You probably wouldn’t recognise the place now. It’s changed so much over the years.”

“I’m sure it has,” I reply, forcing a smile. I have no desire to return to Italy. I used to adore seeing my mother’s extended family during our visits, but now it feels like I’d be betraying my father if I went back.

My gaze flickers to Alexander when he suddenly stands. “Chloe and I are going to walk around the estate grounds.”

My eyebrows jump in surprise. That’s news to me. Once we are home for the night, we usually stay in.

“We are?” I ask.

“We can’t have you getting fat now, can we?”

Ugh.

“Mr Mancini,” Carmella says over a gasp. “That’s a terrible thing to say to a lady.”

I’ve noticed that these two share a pretty solid bond. She’s like a mother figure to him, unafraid to speak her mind when necessary. His men would never dare to be that bold with him.

Well, maybe Antonio would. I’ve seen how he likes to push Alexander’s buttons, almost like he enjoys getting under his skin. It’s amusing to watch. Antonio seems less like an employee and more like a friend—or maybe even a confidant.

“Her words, Carmella, not mine,” he says with a shrug. “In my opinion, she could afford to put on a few pounds.”His gaze shifts back to me as he slides his chair under the table. “Run upstairs and grab a coat. It’s chilly out.”

“Do you do this often?” I ask as we head toward the back of his estate. This might be how he burns off all the excess carbs he eats, though that wouldn’t explain his defined abs.

“Never. I stay in shape by using my gym.”

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