Page 14 of Surprise Baby for the Don

“This is more than I’m used to,” she admits softly, almost as if she’s speaking to herself.

I step closer, my gaze fixed on her, unable to look away. “You’ll get used to it,” I say, my voice low. “In fact, you’ll probably improve it. Once you’re finished with the west wing of the house, you can tackle the guestrooms.”

She shakes her head and looks up at me seriously. “This room is spectacular,” she whispers.

Then her expression turns serious and her eyes go hard. She’s all business.

“But if I were to change things in here,” she begins, her tone thoughtful, “I’d probably start with the lighting. It’s nice, but it could use something softer, something that adds warmth.”

I watch her as she talks, the way her eyes light up with each new idea, the way her hands move as she gestures, painting a picture of her vision for the space. I know I should be listening to her words, but all I can focus on is the way her lips move as she speaks, how she moves her hair away from her face, not out of self-consciousness, but as if she doesn’t want anything hindering her ideas.

“And maybe,” she continues, oblivious to the effect she’s having on me, “some artwork that complements the furniture. Something modern, but not too stark.”

After a moment, I notice her expression shift again to nervousness as she starts to fidget with her skirt again. It’s driving me wild, and I have to clasp my hands together so I don’t reach out to calm hers.

“Is everything all right?” I ask, trying to put her at ease.

“I just remembered I don’t have anything here,” she admits. “I was going to pack this morning, but your men came and got meso early. All of my things are still at home.”

“I’ll take you shopping to get whatever you need.”

“Oh,” she breathes, taken aback. “I was just thinking I could go home and pack.”

“May I be frank?” I ask, hoping my words don’t insult her. “I’ve dealt with your father a long time, and I know he’s not exactly financially liquid.”

She blushes at this and stares down at the floor again, ashamed. I’m not trying to insult her, but I don’t know if my words will help or hurt. Still, I press on.

“You spend most of your time waitressing at a diner, yes? When was the last time you were treated to something new?”

“That’s really not necessary, Mateo,” she whispers hoarsely, her cheeks flushed.

“It is,” I say too sharply, putting the matter to rest.

She stares at me with a mixture of intrigue and adoration, and it’s too much. This space is too small, and her skirt is too short. If we don’t get out of this room, I’m going to do something I regret. I look at my watch, just to get away from her eyes. I realize it’s much later than I thought.

“We’re going to lunch,” I tell her, changing the subject. “My treat.”

She blinks, taken aback, and I can see the surprise in her eyes. “Lunch?” she echoes, surprised. “I didn’t even have a chance to put on mascara.”

I wave off her concern, already heading for the door. “You look fine,” I tell her as we walk out to the hallway, texting Red andBats to join us. “But if it bothers you that much, Red and Bats can take you shopping first. Buy whatever you want, then meet me at Angelo’s.”

She opens her mouth to protest, to argue, but I don’t give her the chance. I turn and leave, heading down the hallway, knowing that she’ll follow my instructions. I’ve given her a glimpse into my world, a taste of the power and influence I wield, and she’s starting to realize just how deep she’s stepped into it. But something tells me she’s not going to turn back.

9

Ginny

My anxiety is dialed up to eleven as I follow Mateo out into the hallway. Before I can argue with him any more about the shopping trip, though, he’s disappeared around the corner, and I’m swarmed by the twins. It’s strange how they’re always around, always at Mateo’s beck and call. Now they flank me, guiding me through the penthouse and out to the front of the building where the black car is once again waiting for me.

“This really isn’t necessary,” I protest as they try to usher me into the car. “I can just go home and get my things; a shopping trip is too much.”

Bats grunts, and Red simply replies with a solid, “no.”

I’m starting to realize that arguing with either of them is futile, maybe even funny at this point. They follow whatever Mateo says, and there’s no changing the plans without his say-so. Mateo said we’re going shopping, so we’re going shopping.

Reluctantly, I slip into the car after Bats, while Red gets into the driver’s seat and takes off. Bats completely ignores my presence, staring straight ahead as we pull away, winding our way down the busy streets of Chicago. Mateo lives in a much nicer part of town than I do, and I rarely get treated to such nice views.

I relax against the cool leather of my seat, until we reach a shopping district that I’ve only gotten to see in TV shows. Silly me for thinking we’d be shopping at a mall. Of course Mateo has sent us to an area of town where my entire month’s salary would barely buy me one shoe.

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