Page 126 of Men or Paws
“Beth?” Holly said.
“Yeah . . .”
“Find out what’s going on. He said he wanted to do a sitcom, so these could just be rumors. The entertainment shows and the tabloids always like to blow things out of proportion. Anyway, you need to talk to Rocco instead of assuming something.”
I nodded, thinking about it. “You’re right. Let me call you back.”
I disconnected the call and walked over to the main house with Houdini. Rocco wanted to work with my brother, I’d heard it with my own ears. He certainly couldn’t do both things simultaneously, from two different sides of the world.
Gwen was busy in the walk-in pantry when I walked through the kitchen. “Hi, Beth.” She tilted her head toward me and smiled. “Rocco is in his office.”
I forced a smile. “Thanks.”
I walked down the hallway, not exactly sure how I was going to start the conversation.
Hi, Rocco. I love you. Are you leaving me?
I was so into my own thoughts that I didn’t realize Rocco was on the phone until I turned the doorknob and walked into his office.
“Yeah, but two years away from home is a long time,” Rocco said.
“It’s true then?” I asked, standing there. “Are you going to Italy?”
Rocco spun around in his office chair, his eyes on me, the phone to his ear, his mouth gaping like a trout on the line. “Hey, Oliver, let me call you back.”
He tapped a button on his phone, then set it down on the desk. The look on his face was that of a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar after his mom just said no.
Rocco hadn’t answered my question, either.
That was a bad sign.
Finally, he made a move, standing, coming around to the front of his desk, running a hand through his hair. “Beth . . .” He sighed. “Nothing has been signed, but yes, I want to do the project. I was going to tell you. Today, actually.”
I laughed as I sat down, even though it wasn’t funny. “Well, too late, I found out from the news.”
“The PR teams leak rumors to the press all the time. They want people to start talking about it because it creates the hype and gets free publicity.”
The ins and outs of PR were insignificant to me.
There was only one thing on my mind.
“What about us?” I asked, preferring to cut to the chase.
Maybe I had no right to ask.
I was only the dog sitter who got to make out with the sexiest man alive. Then again, there was also that tiny detail of me falling in love with him.
Rocco stepped toward me. “I care about you. A lot. But I’ve wanted to work with Spielberg since I started in this business, and the trilogy with him could be even bigger thanCaptain Clapton. And I finally saw the DNA results. I have blood relatives in Rome, where the trilogy is being filmed! Can you believe that? That alone enticed me to consider this project. You’re the one who convinced me to quit delaying and look at the results, but it looks like you think what I’m doing is wrong.”
I shook my head. “What’s wrong is you not telling me you may not be around for the next two years, or leading my brother on and telling him you’d like to work together with him. What about the sitcom? That was the reason you hired me in the first place, to find the perfect project that kept you nearby, so you could settle down here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you have DNA matches, but settling down doesn’t mean going to Italy for two years. You could meet those relatives during a two-week vacation.”
Rocco blew out a breath. “The possibility of a sitcom with your brother is still on the table, albeit slightly delayed.”
I sneered. “Slightly? Two years is notslightly.”
“Beth . . .”
“Are you using this project to put some space between us? Maybe you’re just scared.”
