Page 77 of Better Left Unsaid

I officially understood how women felt when they said they hated those three little words. There was something about them that when strung together, especially coming from Maria, had my gut clenching.

Not two seconds later, my phone rang. It was Maria. “Hey, Dom.”

“Hang on a second,” I answered as I connected the call to my car. “Okay, I’m here. What’d you want to talk about?”

Maria inhaled, almost like she was taking a steadying breath. “I’m not sure you should stop by. Not if it’s for what I think it’s for.”

I paused because I wasn’t sure she was correct. “Okay. Everything all right?”

Silence. More silence and heavy breathing. “Yeah. It’s just that I went out with Paolo last night and—”

My heart felt like it was in an elevator and it just dropped thirty floors. This was it. I’d lost any and all chance I had. Marco had called it. My dad had called it. Everyone had. They had all been right. “You’re not single anymore?” I finished her thought for her. “Got it.” It was easier if I just said it myself so that when she finally answered—if she answered—it wouldn’t feel like a punch straight in the gut.

Maria was quick to stop me, though. “No, no. It’s not that. It was only one dinner, but we’re going out again, so I’m not sure if that makes me single or what, and I’d rather not blur the lines, you know?”

Oh, I knew. I knew all too well what she was saying, and the more I thought about her and. . . and Paolo. Why the hell was he pursuing Maria now anyway? Didn’t he have his chance when they’d worked together? Or better yet, didn’t he have to go back to Italy soon? He couldn’t honestly think it could work between them.Although, we all knew it could, and that’s what’s pissing me off.

Through gritted teeth I nodded even knowing she couldn’t see me. This was all because of those stupid rules she loved so fucking much. Heaven forbid she broke a rule. Well, she should only know that I had. A long damn time ago. “Of course,” I said, sounding understanding when—and I knew this was going to make me sound like a bad guy—I felt anything but. “Listen, I’m about to pull into my driveway, so I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

Damn it. If I could’ve punched out my airbag in the steering wheel, I would have. But this wasn’t Spitfire’s fault. And it wouldn’t do any good.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Maria

I had afull day today with Dad starting to transition me into the editor-in-chief role more and more by giving me more editor-in-chief tasks. It was early, but I needed the time in my office before things really got started.

What things? In thirty minutes, I was sitting down with the features editors, then I’d stay in the conference room and the digital team would come in for a meeting. Perla had also sent me pictures from her latest two shoots and had asked me to review clothes that she thought warranted modeling and photographing for an upcoming cover. Usually, fashion and the cover were my domain, but this transition meant that I had to learn to delegate, otherwise I’d fail before I even started, which I couldn’t have.

Another thing I was learning: my hands-off management style as fashion editor was exactly what the editor-in-chief role needed, too, which was perfectly fine with me. I didn’t think I’d have time for much of that anyway to be honest.

Just as I was about to get up to head into my first meeting, my phone rang and I considered not answering it but thought better of that.

“Maria Morelli,” I said, slipping my earpiece on.

“Morelli, it’s Jeff. Glad I caught you.”

Dom’s agent? Why was he calling me? “You almost didn’t.”

“I’ll talk fast. It’s about the fragrance shoot with Dom. I need to run through the details, assuming you haven’t changed your mind.”

Man, I’d almost forgotten all about it. Things had been so hectic lately. What day was it again? I scrolled through the calendar on my computer. “Why would I change my mind?” I asked, closing my laptop screen. “I made a commitment. I don’t go back on my commitments.” Especially when they involved Dom.

“I don’t know. Anyway, legal is couriering over some paperwork for you to review and sign. The usual, a couple contracts and a waiver. Nothing special.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll have a car pick you up—”

“Wait. Why isn’t Dom going over all this with me?” And why weren’t Dom and I driving to the shoot together?

Jeff cleared his throat. “He’s busy. He asked me to call you.”

“Oh,” I said and noticed how flat my voice sounded to even my own ears.

“Now, as I was saying,” Jeff said and continued rattling on, but truth be told, I only heard snippets here and there.

My mind was reeling. Was this all because of Paolo? It wasn’t like Dom didn’t know how this worked—we dated. We were never meant to stay single forever. And there was that thought of Mrs. Dom Deluca again that had my heart rate spiking. I shook my head. It would happen eventually. And it didn’t bother me—really, it didn’t. So why was my dating Paolo bothering him? Unless it wasn’t, and he really was busy. But too busy to even call me? That was what I found odd.

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