Mia

“What the hell happened to my Armani!”

I sniff at Ben’s bellow and ignore his curses, wiping the grin off my face when he stalks out of his office, clutching what is left of his super pricey tux.

After the fiasco on Saturday night and the way I felt after waking Sunday morning I had to do something to make myself feel better and what was there to do but rush to the dry cleaners when I realized I forgot about Ben’s latest orders.

Fran came by just before I was leaving, her squeeze of the week dropping her off to get her car. I told her everything that had happened at the restaurant, just barely stopping myself from crying because it still stung and cut me deeply.

Fran being Fran she told me to forget about him and pansy ass Neil, who she would take care of in her own special way at work, and we proceeded to fetch The Suit.

From there it was Fran’s idea to go to the park where she assured me many, many people are too lazy to clean up after their animals. Never having been there before thanks to my working hours with Lucas I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of, ahem, unattended to ‘business’ left behind by people who were skirting the law not cleaning up after their animals.

Needless to say, The Suit will never be worn again, and not just because of the smell mind you. Nope. Me and Fran got really inventive right around the time she produced some wine she had in her trunk-don’t ask, I didn’t-and we may or may not have made the acquaintance of a rabid looking squirrel.

“Mia, I asked you what the hell happened to my dry-cleaning!” Ben yells again, shaking the offensive thing under my nose with a snarl.

I smile serenely and shrug, going on with the spread sheet I’ve been busy with all morning, taking my time because why the hell shouldn’t I? I just got off the phone with Masterson PR and their CEO, a business acquaintance I met while in Paris with Lucas, has offered me a position to be filled in two months.

I’m not stoked about the time frame, for obvious reasons but I have thought about it all, really maturely and I realize that the house I bought when I was first on my feet isn’t mine, not really.

I don’t need to hang onto anything anymore and the truth is that I haven’t had any kind of real home but for what I had with Lucas. That sounds naff and pathetic but it’s the truth. Most nights I slept in a room of whatever hotel suite we were in and I had breakfast with him and practically lived with the man.

The house has never truly been my home and it’s time I faced the reality of it. Holding onto to it isn’t going to do me one bit of good and besides, if I’m gonna get my ass fired and have to wait two months for work I’ll need the money.

Fran’s opened her home to me already and you know what, I’m accepting.

“Mia!”

“Stop yelling at me! And I don’t know what happened to your damned suit. It looks like something got hold of it. Something angry,” I insinuate, smiling sweetly.

He huffs and stalks away without a word and I smile, lifting the phone to my ear. That’s step one.

“How goes it?” Fran asks, answering on the first ring.

“He threw a fit but backed off really fast when it hit him that I don’t care.” I giggle, loving this too much to keep a straight face.

Don’t you dare judge me! I’ve worked for a man like him for ages and I refuse to be subjected to it again. As it is I had to stop myself from the Epsom salts in his coffee because I keep reminding myself that he’s old and may not survive a case of extreme diarrhea.

“Good, so then we can move onto stage two and I’ll call his mistress.”

I end the call without another word because this part is all Fran since I’m too soft to tell either his wife or mistress what a two-timing rake Ben is. I mean, it’s not their fault and I feel awful about it but needs must and I really need to get fired!

*****************************************************************

The phone rings at exactly five o’clock as I’m getting onto the elevator, ignoring Ben’s yelling and cursing that he needs me to work late and I answer with a trill of delight, expecting Fran on the other end.

“Don’t hang up!”

Dammit! Why wasn’t I paying attention to the ring tone, I think, sighing because I’m in a great mood and that’s not a place I want to be while talking to Lucas on the phone. Toe scab.

“Fine. What do you want?” I grunt, smiling at the hottie from the tenth floor who gets on with me and proceeds to see right through me. Oh yeah, I’m back in gargoyle so, of course, everything with a penis won’t even notice I’m there.

Superficial bastards.

“I want…that is…Saturday night was not my best moment,” he says stiltedly, bringing a quirk to my lips.

“I agree.”

“And after an extended conversation with Mama, it was made evident to me that I can be thoughtless and insensitive,” he continues through what I assume is gritted teeth because I actually hear the things crack.

“Oh, so you told Mama and she’s the only reason you called to what…apologize? I got news for you buddy, you suck at it.”

“Mia, you are being difficult.”

‘Nope. Honest. For once in my life. You’re a jerk and I don’t really want to speak to you but barring never talking to Daphne or Sergio again, I have to tolerate you.”

The elevator stops once more on the sixth floor, letting in a drop dead, scorching hot blonde and I grimace ruefully when Ten gives her a thorough, very suggestive once over and smiles slowly.

See, this is my point, men are all pigs, just like Lucas and Neil, and you know what, why the heck should I even bother with them? All they see is legs, boobs and ass.

If I carry on dressing the way I do, I will die old and unmarried without any children and possibly twenty thousand cats interred in my freezer-I watched Hoarders on Sunday night and those people do some freaky shit.

But I also don’t want to primp every day and be someone I am not. Heels suck donkey ass, I have the bleeding blisters at the back of my heels to prove it and my calves were on fire all of yesterday.

So no more high shoes or dresses that make me feel good but exposed, and definitely no more wearing my hair down because the guy at the all night liquor store gave me lascivious looks the whole time I was buying wine coolers.

That just leaves…me and at this rate I’ll keel over with my hymen intact and have Lucas the fiend giving me an epitaph along the lines of ‘she blended in’.

But what the hell else is there for me? I’m just me, Goddammit. Why can’t one man, just one look at me and think ‘wow, she’s something else’ without all the trimming to go with it?

“Cara-”

I start and realize I’ve been drifting only to hear Lucas’s voice and see that the elevator is now empty and running back up to my floor. I push at the buttons frantically, not wanting to go back and see Ben’s old sour face glaring at me but the blasted thing keeps going and I groan out loud in surrender. Worst end of the day ever.

“Don’t call me cara, you gigolo, and if you’re going to apologize then do it properly or I’m telling Mama what a nasty toad you are,” I warn, just as the doors open to let in a fuming Ben.

“So you came back to apologize, I hope, and you can bet your ass I’m taking the cost of that tux off your salary.” He sneers, pressing for the ground floor.

“You can pry it out of my cold, dead fingers.” I sneer right back, moaning when I hear a chuckle and recall that Lucas is still on the line. “Shut up.”

My hissed whisper is met with more laughter and it’s when I hear another male chuckle that I squint my eyes and ask God why my day couldn’t just end on a good note.

“Barry thinks you’re a peach. I think you’re just a sour little morsel with no idea what you want from life.”

“Huh! I know what I want. You to finally get herpes and have your crotch go limp.”

No I don’t. Just last night I had the worst, best dream ever where he was licking me all over and then used his manly bits to make me scream with delight. Or as close to delight as I could get before I woke in a sweat, my sex wet, aching and begging for something it’s never had.

Fran and her porn have ruined me. But in her defense, I almost agree that I need to know what I am facing before I jump into sex. Some of that stuff is not for me, I know that, even if I haven’t ever had just basic, missionary style sex.

Whatever, all I am saying is that I don’t want Lucas to lose his dick. Most days.

“My crotch hasn’t been limp since I turned fifteen and noticed that breasts exist.” He laughs while I glare at a scowling Ben who’s trying to listen to my conversation.

Holding my hand over the mouthpiece I narrow my eyes and hiss.

“Mind your own business.”

“I am your boss-”

“You’re a liar. You tricked me into thinking you were a decent man and then used me to organize your sex life and do all the work you’re too busy screwing to do. So just you shush and let me have my phone call without your tantrums.”

“Ooooh, trouble in paradise?” he drawls softly.

I cringe at the thought that he knows how much I hate my job and take a deep breath for patience while shoving passed Ben when the doors open. The lobby is busy at this time of day and it takes me a few minutes to get through the crush and then rush for the bus.

It’s only when I’m on and seated that I answer Lucas, his patience in waiting for me to answer giving me the beginning of a splitting headache. Why can’t the man just do what I want him to do and throw the phone down?

“No trouble, just being honest.”

“As you were for six years, walking around in those ugly clothes while hiding a body any man would blow a load for?” he asks.

“Hey!”

“Just being honest, Mia,” he purrs while I blush and cast furtive looks around the bus, my embarrassment overwhelming.

“Well, you can shove it if you’re trying to pull one over on me,” I mumble, disbelieving my ears because he’s never complimented me.

“Mia, Mia, my sweet, why would I be pulling one over on you. Didn’t you notice that every man had eyes for you in that dress? Or that I myself was affected?”

What! No. That isn’t…

“Bull.”

“Truth. Tut, tut, how could you so selfishly hide such beauty from me for so long?”

“I didn’t…” I start, trailing off because I am flustered and frankly incapable of forming a decent thought.

This is so out of left field I don’t know what to think or how to respond and it takes me a full minute of inner breathing to get in a decent breath. The lady sitting beside me casts me a look and it’s then I recognize that I’m breathing heavily and my nipples have come out to play.

“Eyes forward! Nothing to see here.”

“Are you talking to me?”

“No, Lucas, contrary to what you think you are not the only thing living and breathing in my world. I’m talking to the boob beside me who’s trying to overhear our conversation. As for that conversation, pull the other one,” I mutter before ending the call with a relieved rush of breath.

Sour puss beside me turns to me with a smile and I feel my own lips twitch when she removes a little silver flask, takes a sip and offers it to me.

I should never take things from strangers, I know but if there’s booze in this thing I’m calling her my best friend for life.

“That guy sounded like a real smooth talker.”

I snort and take a second sip of the battery acid in her flask, coughing before taking a deep breath and rolling my eyes.

“Smooth as a babies ass,” I concur, smirking when she giggles and rolls her eyes.

Her hair’s the color of faded carrots and I like it a lot, even the brown of her eyes, which I always assumed wouldn’t look good on a red head. She’s middle aged, I think but something about her is so arresting that I find my eyes glued to her face.

And then it hits me! She’s…reminds me of Mama, my mama with her kind eyes and that special way her mouth quirks. The recognition is painful but so sweet I tear up and smile again.

“It’s good you don’t let him walk all over you.”

“Walk? The man would dance on me wearing hobnailed clogs if I let him.”

“Arrogant?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” I giggle, rolling my eyes.

“And you adore that about him, don’t you?” she asks quietly, knowingly.

My cheeks can’t possibly get any redder as I shake my head in the negative, refusing to answer or even contemplate that statement.

“Yeah, you do, I could hear it when you talked to him, no matter what came out of your mouth. And the look on your face. You got on this bus looking as if you were walking on air. Does he know?”

I snort again because the man is as thick as a brick and the chances of him ever seeing anything that’s right in front of his face is tantamount to me setting off a nuclear explosion right next to him!

“You should give him a chance.”

“To do what, seduce me the way he’s seduced hundreds of other women? I know his parents, we’re practically family. I don’t think shooting daggers of hatred at him over the Christmas dinner table would go down well and I would hate him if he slept with me and dropped me.”

God, it is easy talking to strangers! Why don’t I do this more often?

“So, he’s a little dense about love-”

“He’s not dense, his practically living in his own head,” I mumble, rising when my stop comes up. “Bye.”

She just nods her head and I leave without looking back, trudging home with the thoughts she left in my head spinning me dizzy. We can never be anything together, no matter how much I used to dream of him. Never.

Because the truth is that I don’t think I could survive if Lucas made my dreams come true only to shatter me after.

And that’s why when my phone rings, Lady Gaga crooning at me in that deep, sultry yell, I let it go to voicemail and instead keep walking until I get home.

Dropping my bag, kicking off my shoes and putting my phone on silent I take a much needed shower and go to bed early, telling myself it’s exactly what I need.

It takes me an hour, probably more, before my eyes start drooping and I can’t have dozed off for very long when I’m being shaken awake fiercely with a muffled curse.

“Mia! Dio, wake the fuck up already, woman!”

Wha-

“Lucas?” I mumble, blinking rapidly while my heart pounds fit to beat through my chest.

“Mia, cara, I need you to get up now and come with me. Papa…”

It’s surprising how fast I wake up when I hear the tone of his voice and see the utter devastation clouding his hard black eyes.

“What’s wrong? What happened? Is everything okay? What do you need?” I gasp, rushing to spring out of bed, forgetting that I fell into my sheets wearing only a pair of white lacy panties and the camisole that goes with it.

Not that I even care right now because I’m panicking badly as I dive for my drawers and grab a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and my sneakers.

“Papa collapsed an hour ago. Mama called the ambulance out and they rushed him to the hospital in Milan and then she called me a few minutes ago.”

“Okay! Okay, so I need to arrange flights and call Marcia at the hotel to arrange a suite and then I should probably get Jacobs on the line and get him to fly out to check Sergio over,” I ramble, dialing my phone as we speak and grabbing my handbag and carry all where my passport is still hiding.

Lucas doesn’t say a word, just follows me with his eyes until I realize that he’s frozen in place where he’s sitting on the foot of my bed.

“Luc-”

“It sounded bad, Mia. Mama was crying so much I could hardly make out what she was saying and then I just panicked and didn’t know what to do.”

He sounds so shattered that I pause and before I can think I’m kneeling beside him, taking his big hands in mine and forcing him to look at me.

“You came to me because you know I’ll get everything handled and we’ll fly to Milan now, even if I have to highjack a plane to do it. Sergio will be fine, you know he’s a strong man, and besides, he’d never leave Daph to run around unchecked,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “You know he’s afraid for the world if he wasn’t there to keep her in line.”

That seems to do it, though I can’t say why, and Lucas relaxes infinitesimally, taking a deep breath that moves his whole body.

“You’re right. You’re right, he’s gonna be just fine, cara. Sorry. I shouldn’t have panicked. You don’t need to book flights, just call Barry and have him get my jet ready.”

We leave as soon as he says this and I’m still reeling that he’d buy his own jet when we dive into the car and I call Barry to file a flight plan. The hotel is next and by the time we’re inside the opulent aircraft, I’ve booked the suite and I’m conferencing with Jacobs, a well-known cardiologist I know in California after having handled Lucas’s check-ups.

Lucas just sits silently, brooding and it breaks my heart when he tells me that the records Daphne got the hospital to fax through to him indicate a heart attack.

“Okay, I’ll arrange a flight for you on the Concorde. Thank you so much for dropping everything so last minute. I’ll send you the details and your hotel reservation.”

Jacob replies in the affirmative and I end the call to make his flight reservations and call the hotel again. Once that’s arranged I get in touch with Gabriel, the VP, and let him know that he’ll have to deal with whatever comes up in the meantime.

I don’t even bother to call the current secretary Candy or Mandy or Bambi or whatever her name is because it’s just easier to do it all myself once we touch down.

Contemplating the next few hours I drop my phone on the seat beside me, leaning back with a tired groan. I’ve been so busy since boarding that we’re only about twenty minutes out from landing and it’s hitting me that I am due at work in a couple of hours or right now! I still can’t track the time zone changes.

And once Ben realises I’m MIA and definitely not coming in to work any time soon I will be in deep crap.

“What is it?” Lucas asks from his seat across from me, the strain he’s under evident in the harsh lines surrounding his eyes and mouth.

“Nothing, everything’s arranged. I’ve booked the suite and the rooms for security and Jacobs is flying out in an hour, so I’ll probably need Barry to go and collect him from the airport. Where’s your diary?”

“Mia, relax. I’ll-”

“You’ll sit there and have a drink while we wait to land and give me your diary so I can see what the hell that nitwit you hired did to your schedule.” I interrupt, my no-nonsense tone coming forth because I know that what he needs right now is someone to take charge so he doesn’t have to think about anything but Sergio.

Barry and Cameron, his personal security, choke behind me but I ignore them and practically snarl when I see the state of the once pristine diary that I always kept.

There are blanked out appointments, scribbles in dark pen and one page is dangling. To make matters worse the next week is in such a jumble of double bookings and unexplained entries that I feel my blood boil.

“How have you been getting things done? This is disgusting. Never mind, I’ll sort it all out and reschedule the most pressing things. I called your sisters, as well. Lucia and Franco will drive in as soon as they can make arrangements for the children and Mercia and Lucenzo are on their way back from Australia.”

I know I’m prattling but I’m feeling so strangely out of place right now it’s not funny. I look nothing like I usually do when I’m in battle mode and without my armor, the way Lucas is looking at me has something hot and sensual unfurling deep in my belly. My breasts that I didn’t bother to cover with a bra have been heavy for what feels like hours because no matter how hard I tried to ignore his silent staring, it’s made me uncomfortably aware that Lucas has finally seen me as a woman.

“Mia, that’s fine, just stop and breathe for me and tell me what’s bugging you,” he says quietly and I guess now that everything has calmed down and we’ve had word from Daphne that Sergio is stable, Mr. Man has decided to look deeper.

Shit.