Page 37 of Perfect Match
Did I push Gio away like I’ve done in the past when guys get too close? I don’t think so. Not this time.
***
London
August 4 – My last journal entry because I’ve just boarded my flight to New York. I’m belted in, but inside, I’m cheering and whooping. Maybe I’ll have a glass of bubbles with my airline meal. I love the cute little champagne bottles you can get on planes. Not that I’ve ever ordered one, but I’ve seen other people get them.
I can hardly sit still in my seat with excitement. And I’m already imagining how good it’s going to feel being squeezed tight in one of your hugs.
But other than telling you how excited I am to be seeing you soon, how should I end this epic chapter in my life? With something like, this adventure was full of exciting thrills, delicious meals, unexpected experiences, and new friendships that I will cherish forever. Or more simply, it’s been a wild ride.
Charli, thank you for gifting me this journal.
Today I’m just happy.
Around nine hours later, I’m walking through the doors at JFK Airport and running toward my sister. I’m tired, but none of that matters because all I need is to hug her. Tears stream down our faces.
“I missed you,” I choke out.
Charli grins back at me. “I missed you more.”
Chapter seventeen
Gio
New York City
I’m a fucking mess. The proof being that straight off the company jet, I’d had my driver drop me here at the club. I’d banged on my friend Ryan’s door, woke him up, and poured my guts out to him about my father’s plan for me to marry Lucia. Saying the words aloud made the whole thing sound even more fucked up than it is. Ant and I have spent weeks poring over the contract, looking for a loophole, but so far, we’ve got nothing.
Worse than that, Ant and I had a massive argument a couple of days ago, and he left Florence for Manhattan convinced I was going to marry Lucia. If my father’s plan was to pit us against each other, he’s been successful.
Now I’m standing back on the sidewalk outside the club and Ryan’s apartment like a lost puppy, with no idea of what to do next. I could return to my huge penthouse only a few blocks away. It cost me millions to purchase but has remained virtually empty this year while I’ve been living in Italy doing my father’sbidding. Or I could just disappear. Not forever, but for a few days until I can figure my life out, just like I told my friend that I needed to do.
The thoughts bounce about in my head. What I need to do. What Iwantto do.
I want to see Tori, who is somewhere in this city, but I can’t. Not until I get my shit together. And that requires me coming up with some kind of plan on how to deal with my father and avoid marrying Lucia without blowing up my relationship with the people most important in my life—my brothers.
A conversation with them will have to wait, especially with Ant barely talking to me, Leo distracted by a huge private function he’s catering in his restaurant tonight, and Nico still across the Atlantic in London. I type out a message to the group chat I have with them.
Me:Guys, I need to speak to you all, but I have some things to sort out first. Let’s meet tomorrow night at Leo’s. Nico, you need to be here. And nobody mention this emergency meeting to our father.
A barrage of messages from two of my brothers starts lighting up my phone. Ant has seen the message but doesn’t respond. I hope he turns up tomorrow. Then instead of reading or responding to them, I text my old school friend Tyler Forbes, asking if he can discreetly book me a suite in one of his Manhattan hotels. He does this kind of thing for celebrities all the time, so I know he can be trusted to keep my visit quiet.
Finally, I text Ryan and Hunter to let them know I’m disappearing for a few days, at least publicly, and won’t be contactable. But if anything urgent comes up, then I’m at Tyler’s hotel. Before leaving Florence, I told my assistant to tell anybody—including my father—who asked that I was taking a holiday for a week.
One week. It’s not long, but it’s all I’ve got to work out my plan. I do my best work under pressure, but even knowing that doesn’t give me the confidence to bring this mess to a conclusion that prevents someone from being hurt by the result.
Slinging my overnight bag over my shoulder, I start to walk with no particular destination in mind yet. But the simple motion as my stride lengthens is enough to ease the softball-size knot that’s been lodged in my gut and has become a constant ever since that meeting with my father. And by the time Tyler has messaged me the details for the hotel suite, I’m feeling a bit calmer.
***
My brother’s restaurant, Leonardo’s in Midtown, deserves every accolade it receives, from the curved oak partitions between the candlelit white-linen-covered tables, ensuring guests’ privacy, to the spectacular city views and the Michelin-star food. But none of that registers with me tonight as I walk to the kitchen end of the restaurant. This is the regular table that Leo sets aside for my brothers and me on the rare occasions we all find ourselves in the city at the same time.
Ant is already at the table, and as I approach, his glare sears me. If looks could kill, I’d be bleeding out on the carpet from a dagger to my heart. He hasn’t forgiven our last conversation where I stupidly said that the only answer was for Lucia and me to announce our engagement like our father insists. I still think it would buy us more time to come up with a permanent solution.
“Antonio,” I say by way of greeting while extending my hand.
He glances at it but makes no move to take it. He looks like he’s had about as much sleep as me since we last met, which would total a single-digit number of hours.
