This fucking woman.

Enchanting. Gorgeous. And now, an incredible liar as well.

Here I am, perfectly on time for our agreed time at the brasserie. And turns out, miss Sneaky isn't even here. Instead, my best friend has swooped her up and taken her along on a trip.

I'm all for spending time with her, but not when I was supposed to spend time with her. The whole morning, I put up with my nagging mother, my hell-sent assistant and my infuriating employees. Why? Because I knew I would get to see her during lunch time, and it would all be worth it.

Got me there.

Anthony has been enthusiastically ranting about historic figures and if I wasn't so damn irritated, I would love a good talk with him about them. I promised I would, and I'm definitely responding to him, but my mind is just somewhere else.

Gabriele: oh by the way me and isabella will be @ the golf court today

Gabriele: just letting you know

Rereading his text only makes my pulse quicken with, well, what else could it be, jealousy, but it isn't comparable to the way my stomach dropped when I first read it.

"Is something wrong with the food?" Jean-Marc asks, noticing I have only eaten bits and pieces. I haven't even started the glass of wine I ordered, too caught up in visions of strangling Gabriele.

"No, no. It's great," I mutter, but don't sound very convincing. Because I want the guy to like me—he has control over Isabella's free days, after all— I start actually eating the cordon bleu and give him a thumbs up. 

Anthony pats his uncle's shoulder. "He's just grumpy because Isa's not here. Thought she would be."

"Ah." Jean-Marc has the audacity to chuckle. I ignore both of them, wondering how crazy I would be considered as if I just showed up for an afternoon of golf. Because, why not?

"You should know, Mondays and Tuesdays are her days off. In case they pull this again," Jean-Marc winks, now patting my shoulders before returning to his kitchen. Anthony nods in agreement before hopping of the table next to mine where he was previously sitting and ranting, to follow his uncle.

"Oh, and Fridays, she's done early," Anthony adds, his head momentarily sticking out of the doorway before disappearing again. 

Just as I am relaxing and allowing myself to admit that, if I'd thought of it first, I would have done the same, I feel my phone vibrate with a text. Too distracted with my thoughts, I open it without a hesitation.

Isabella to your group chat: [attached picture]

It is a picture of the both of them, sitting in a golf court, sunshine richly present on their faces. I am so extremely happy to see the thundercloud hanging above my head hasn't reached them yet. 

Isabella, beautiful as always, looks chic and in place, with a shy smile that tells me she wasn't the one that initiated the picture, although she seems to be holding the phone. The little smug smirk on Gabriele's face is too telling to doubt it. Asshole.

Isabella to your group chat: oops was meant to be sent to me but i guess -G

And that's enough. 

"Jean-Marc?" I call, pulling a few crisp bills out of my back pocket. He pops his head through the same doorway Anthony did. Must be a family trait then.

I show him the money before throwing it next to my now empty plate. "Thanks for having me."

"Always a pleasure," he mutters, clearly not meaning it. Not paying attention to it, I grab my jacket and leave, not bothering to put it on. It's hot enough, and I think I would actually snap if I felt the itchy collar around my neck all throughout the drive. The only reason I wore it at all is because I'd thought Isabella might like it.

The golf court might be in another town, surely 40 minutes away, but that doesn't stop me from answering my assistant's call. "Carly. I'm not coming in this afternoon."

"But- but sir, you can't be serious. We have three staff meetings, everyone's gathered here already—"

"Do I sound like I care, Carly? No. Have Michael solve it. I don't want to hear a thing this afternoon, got it? Nothing."

Judging from the way she stays silent on the other side, she is shocked to her core. Payback for this morning. "Just like that, yeah. Exactly like that, actually."

As I hang up, my foot instinctively presses the gas pedal down to the floor. It's days like these I'm happy to have the money to buy a car fast enough to turn those 40 minutes into 20. 

***

Eventually, I find them in the outdoor restaurant, laughing with Gabriele's dumbass friends.

That makes 3 dumbasses and one lying girl—though I can forgive her for that. The blame shall just be shoved onto Gabriele's tray.

Beau is the first to see me stalking towards them, eyes widening and salad dropping back on his plate. I tug a last time at the collar around my neck before reaching them, with the other three following Beau's reaction.

"See," he whispers as though I cannot hear him as well, panicked, "I told you you shouldn't defy him! He's scary as fuck!"

A napkin is thrown into his face, coming from a suspiciously smug Theodore. Though before Beau can see it was him, he has it turned into a blank look rapidly.

"Alessandro!" Isabella smiles, earnestly, and stands up to grant me a hug. Though I'll beat myself up for it later, I take a step back, away from her very, very comforting-looking embrace. What on God's earth am I doing?

"No. You sent me to the brasserie, knowing I wanted to see you, and then sent a picture of the two of you, laughing at my face."

Her mouth opens a little before her face sets in a glare and she hits Gabriele's shoulder. His little grin drops when he registers the pain. "What the—" "You said you were going to send it to yourself!"

"I did!"

At her look, "Partly."

She sighs, hard, and turns back to me. "Alessandro, I swear I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings with that picture. Admittedly, I did know it was my free day when you said you would pass by, but I was planning on stopping by to soothe the blow before Gabriele suddenly asked me to join him. I kind of forgot about it after that, I'm sorry. Truly."

Watching her with suspicion, I finally judge she is, indeed, blameless. "Okay."

Her smile grows, and she pulls in for the hug again. This time, I am not dumb or stubborn enough to reject it, and pull her close to me. God, this woman smells so nice.

"Did you just sniff me?" she asks, slightly pulling back, as much as my grip allows her to.

My eyes widen in horror. "What? No, I didn't. Is that perfume?" Oh, great, I just ratted myself out.

"Oh, he so did," Tacky Theodore snickers. 

Isabella now pulls back completely, leaving me mourning the press of her against me. Not in a sexual way, it's just... comforting. Nice. And a little sensual too, maybe. "Did you?"

"I— just, I—"

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I search a way to save myself. Thankfully, I remember Gabriele has been silently enjoying all of this and hasn't yet met my wrath. "And you—"

He raises his hands in defense, but that damn glitter of mirth in his eyes doesn't lessen even a bit. "No, no, go on with your stuttering. It's amusing, really."

Someone stop me before I kill this man.

As I take a step closer to him, Isabella grabs my arm and pulls me back closer to her. "What's gotten into you? You're so irritable all of a sudden."

Indignant, "He's—"

"Yes, I know," she soothes, rubbing her hand over my arm. "I know he's teasing you, but you're usually so laid back. Did something happen?"

My eyes meet hers, and when I see the genuine concern brewing there, I let out a deep sigh. My hand goes through my hair, as it often does when I'm stressed. "Just work things. I'm sorry, I'm overstepping."

"No, come on," she waves that away, her hand now resting on my chest. God, is this woman trying to kill me or what? "You know you're more than welcome here. Is it truly only work things?"

Gabriele doesn't keep his shit-eating mouth shut. "Now that I think about it, he also stayed up all night. Tell her, why?"

My lips thin into a small line. This guy isn't surviving the day. 

"Alessandro?" Isabella asks, encouraging me to tell her about the geeky reason I was up all night. Since I've already embarrassed myself in front of her, and those annoying business partners of Gabriele, I suppose one more confession won't hurt. 

"There was... a new series about Stalin dropped on National Geographic last night. I wanted to watch, and on top of that, there was this meteorite that would pass and I wanted to see that as well but it wasn't until 3 am. So I didn't really catch much sleep."

For a second, I think she'll start laughing, as I see her face contorting with amusement. But it only softens into a smile and a reassuring, "That's quite cute, actually."

I blink at her for what feels like three seconds. "Really?"

Her grin widens. "Yeah, of course. You like astronomy, and you like history. What's wrong with spending a night up doing that? I was worried you had been sick or something."

Can this woman be any more amazing? The urge to kiss her thickens with every passing minute I spend with her.

"Could I enjoy my meal in peace now?" Tacky Theodore grumbles, although his plate has considerably lessened since the time I came in. Isabella, sweet like she is, pulls a chair closer for me and lets peace return.

Though, before I can sit down, the chair is pulled from under me. Bleak Beau chokes on his drink, nearly dying in his attempt to stifle his laughter, which has me glaring at Gabriele. Except that he's also glaring at someone, and it's not me.

"Give that back." I cringe a little at that tone, knowing he is not playing right now. Now, Isabella is throwing him concerned look while comfortingly squeezing my wrist. I turn to see who just took my chair. It turns out it's a student, working here. One with a little attitude.

"Obviously you have to get your eyes checked, since it reads this table is reserved for later this afternoon. And in case you don't understand, that means the chairs as well."

Gabriele clenches his jaw, never having appreciated being disrespected (not because he has money, just in general), but I pat his arm in hopes he stays calm. "It's alright, we'll fix it."

To the boy, "Sorry, we didn't see it."

He nods, putting it back in place. I look at Isabella, who is already searching a new chair with her eyes. "Sorry, sweetheart, but you know what that means."

"Huh?" she mutters, distracted. When she finally returns my gaze, her eyes stand confused. "What?"

Before she can ask further, I already have her in my arms, after which I take her seat. Outraged, her jaw drops, but when I pull her on my lap, it closes without a word. My eyebrows raise, curious about her attempted comments, but she shakes her head and returns her attention to the table with a rose blush staining her cheeks.

Now it seems Gabriele is the jealous one, with the way he is watching us. It is now my turn to send him a smug smirk, albeit not by text. "Anything to say?"

"Nope."

After that, I occupy myself with the beautiful woman trying to make herself comfortable on my lap. She's very careful to not accidentally brush against anything, though I'm sure I wouldn't mind. 

After a while and some conversation, she has relaxed against my chest and is laughing at what our friends are saying. I'm content listening, my chin resting on her shoulder. It got me a look from her when I first planted it there, but she didn't say anything and allowed it. Couldn't have made me happier.

Gabriele watches us in silence, but doesn't seem too jealous anymore. Rather... intrigued.