Shanna
My experiencewith private jets included a handful of movies and a Google search when Maggie offered to fly me to Sicily with the family. Suffice to say, nothing prepared me for the reality of stepping foot on one.
Creamy leather armchairs and two couches filled the main cabin. However, Mr. Gulfstream, or whoever designed the plane, had set them in small seating areas rather than rows. A large screen TV hung on one wall, and a bar area took up the back corner. The aircraft reminded me of a super swanky RV.
Still speaking Italian into his phone, Enzo nodded for me to sit.
I tuned him out and made myself comfy.
Dahlia dropped her carry-on next to her seat and wandered to the kitchen area. “Well, we won’t starve.”
“We could last a few months on the food Evelyn keeps onboard.” Jessie plopped onto the couch. “Help yourselves. I’m going to sleep.”
“Good idea. Shanna and I will take the master suite.” Enzo closed the distance between us and wrapped me in his arms.
The women exchanged glances.
I had no idea the plane had a bed, let alone a master suite, but the mere mention of sleep made my eyes droop. “If that’s okay. I mean, I’m okay with curling up on the couch.”
“Of course, it’s okay. After all the kissing at the reception, I’d rather not watch you two go at it.” Jessie laughed.
Dahlia, on the other hand, chewed her lower lip, a sure sign she was worried.
“There won’t be any going at it. I’m exhausted.” I took a step away from him and winked at Dahlia.
She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Enzo’s phone rang again. He glanced at the screen and frowned. “It’s my assistant manager. There’s a problem with a delivery. I should take this.”
“Go ahead.”
He walked to the back of the plane and disappeared into what I assumed was the master suite.
Oddly enough, his constant phone calls gave me a sense of hope. The restaurant was a huge part of his life, a part I could support—unlike the whole mafia thing.
Dahlia stared after him, and then turned to me. “Are you sure you want to share a bed with him?”
“Sure, why not? I’m not planning on joining the mile-high club.” I hiked my bag higher on my shoulder.
Keeping her voice low, she said, “Besides the fact you’ve been yo-yoing back and forth about your feelings for him?”
She was right, but I had my reasons. Reasons I couldn’t tell her. “There’s nothing wrong with spending more time with Enzo.”
“I’m all for women embracing their sexual natures, but I know you. Sleeping with him will only confuse things.”
“Thanks for worrying about me, but I can handle it.” I didn’t need a PhD in psychology to know her concern had more to do with leaving Leo at the villa than me getting my freak on with Enzo.
“You’re right. It’s been a long day. We should all get some sleep.” She shook her head.
Jessie motioned between us. “I don’t mean to butt into your conversation, but I’ve known Enzo my entire life. He doesn’t date much.”
I’d met Jessie at Gabe’s bar a few months earlier. We weren’t close, but I liked her. More importantly, I believed she was the type of person who called it like she saw it.
Dahlia gave me a pointed look. “Exactly my point. He doesn’t date, but he has no shortage of female attention—”
“Actually, he’s not a playboy either.” Jessie sighed. “He’s a workaholic and mostly keeps to himself.”
I struggled to reconcile the different sides of Enzo. How’s it possible a rich, handsome, successful guy like him didn’t have women falling at his feet every night? “But he’s had relationships…”