Page 76 of Bellini Born
Expecting Bianca to have joined us, ready for breakfast, I let out a surprised yelp when I found a haggard-looking Gabi sitting at the table.
She placed both hands over her ears and groaned. “For the love of God, keep it down.”
Matteo snickered, and I spun on him. “You know she was here?”
“No.” He shook his head. “But I can’t say I’m all that surprised.” With a pat to my ass, he strode out of the room, tossing me a wink over his shoulder that made my heart flutter.
Dropping onto the chair beside my best friend, I graciously slid my coffee in her direction. “Want this?”
Her nose wrinkled, and she shoved the mug away. “Are you trying to make me throw up?”
“You might feel better if you do.” I’d witnessed my share of hungover mornings with Gabi, and more often than not, she wound up with her head in the toilet.
“Pass,” she muttered.
“Okay, then why don’t you explain how it is you came to spend the night here and why you look like an electrocuted raccoon?”
Her hand came up to the tangled mass of black hair sticking out from her head. “Yeah, about that . . . I slipped in from the guardhouse.”
“The guardhouse,” I repeated. Then it hit me, and I gasped. “Oh my God. You slept with Rico?”
“We didn’t do much sleeping.”
“So, you’re done with Nikolai?” I hedged, naming the bouncer at Ballistic, with whom she had an ongoing fuck buddy situation.
Gabi rolled her eyes. “Rico and I fucked once. Don’t make it a thing. Though, I will say there’s something to be said about hung Italian men.”
I hummed my agreement, and that sparked her interest. Assessing me carefully, she must’ve found what she was looking for because she pinched the bridge of her nose with an “Oh, Summer, no.”
Burying my face in my coffee, I tried to act innocent. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t do that.” She wagged a finger in my face. “We don’t lie to each other.”
“Fine.” I sighed. “We fucked once. Don’t make it a thing.”
She scoffed when I mimicked her words. “Yeah, definitelynotthe same, and you know it, Summer.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right. Matteo and I lived together, and I worked for him, which created a total power imbalance. Last night, we’d opened Pandora’s box, and there was no going back.
All I could do now was hope that mixing business with pleasure didn’t blow up in my face.
They were staring at me again.
Ignoring the weight of the Preschool Pickup Posse’s judgment, I bounced Serafina, quietly singing the ABCs low enough that only she could hear me. But unfortunately, keeping my voice hushed meant the words spoken around me could still reach my ears.
“Who would have thought she could clean up that nice?”
The fuck?
Relief surged that maybe they weren’t talking about me this time because today’s ensemble consisted of baggy sweats visible beneath a knee-length parka, my hair stuffed haphazardly under a beanie.
Covertly, I peeked around the packed hallway, searching for the new object of their scrutiny.
“Meredith, you owe me a grand.”
“Like hell I do! There’s no proof of penetration.”
My head whipped up to find a half-dozen huddled around the phone I assumed to be Meredith’s as their conversation continued.
