Daring In The City. Jo LeighЧитать онлайн книгу.
I mean, how am I supposed to ever hook up? Keep a room at the Marriott?”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. You only had, what, two years of living on your own at college? I was all caught up in trying to patch things up with Angie when you moved back home. You really stepped up, man. Took care of the folks. Helped out more than your share with the company.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not complaining.”
“I know.” Tony shook his head. “You seeing anyone now?”
“You mean other than the women Mom and Nonna keep shoving at me?”
“Wait. Are you getting laid at all?”
“Do I look like a guy who’s getting laid?” he said, realizing he should’ve kept his voice down. “That’s why I have to get out of there. I have a date next week, one I arranged, so hopefully...”
“All right, I see your point. A year after I got divorced they started harassing me about getting married again.”
“I remember. And now that you have Catherine they’ve started going after me. So, yeah, thanks for that.”
Tony laughed. “Look, if you want to take some time off to get situated, we’ll be fine. I’m ready to get out of the office more so I can step in, and Dom’s doing great.”
Luca knew his contribution to the company wasn’t exactly crucial. The employees and subcontractors they had were top-notch. His brothers could easily carry his load. The only thing that would actually make a difference in their collective future was his becoming licensed.
If only being an architect was what he really wanted.
“And after that,” Tony said, “think about taking a step back from the company and pouring yourself into that internship at Willingham. We all had to regroup when Dad got sick, but it’s not fair to hold you back when all you’ve got is two more years of interning before you start your dream career.”
Dream career? Luca kept his expression neutral, not wanting to worry his brother. But why the hell couldn’t he have figured this stuff out before he’d returned to school?
Deep down he’d probably known then he was on the wrong track. But by that time Tony was in the middle of his divorce and understandably distracted. It had fallen to Luca to take his dad to all his doctors’ visits. Interpret what the doctor was saying. His mom had been worried sick and sometimes she got things confused.
Add to that the responsibility of managing the Paladino Trust when so many of their tenants had been hit hard by the downturn in the economy, and his life hadn’t been his own. The rest of his family had done what they could but it hadn’t been easy.
It certainly wasn’t how he’d imagined his college years being. Not that he would do anything different if he had to do it over again. Family was family.
But this was going to be his time. He’d act crazy if he wanted. Bring home a different woman every night, although that wasn’t like him. The point was the apartment would be all his and he could do whatever he pleased.
Still, the fact remained that everyone was counting on him to get his license and expand the business, but his true passion lay elsewhere.
“I don’t mean to tell you what to do,” Tony said, his dark brows furrowed. “I’m just—”
“Good. You can stop talking. What part of ‘I don’t want to get into a big discussion about this’ did you not hear?”
“Wiseass.” Tony chuckled. “You better be careful. Once you start fixing up your apartment, the matchmaking will get even worse. And now Pop’s on his ‘wanting grandkids’ kick.”
“I know. At least I won’t have to listen to them anymore every morning over coffee.”
“I get it.” Tony nodded. “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s the fate of all Paladino sons. I heard Nonna has started in on Dominic. Can you imagine?”
“As if he doesn’t already have a parade of women knocking at his door.”
Tony nodded. “Face it, Luca. You’re screwed.”
Tony didn’t know the half of it.
“WES, WHERE ARE YOU?” If only April Branagan had been able to sleep, maybe she wouldn’t feel so awful about Wes not calling her back over the last twenty-nine hours. “I’m on the bus. We’re pulling out of the station. This is it. I’m really on my way. I know everything’s probably fine, but please, whatever you’re doing, call me, okay? I want to try to get some rest before I reach Manhattan.”
She hung up the phone and made sure she didn’t need to plug it into the handy power outlet beside her seat. In fact, this would have been a very enjoyable ride if she hadn’t been up for almost two days, and if she’d heard from a certain someone who was supposed to be meeting her at the other end.
The trip from St. Louis to the Port Authority in New York would take over twenty-six hours, with eight stops and a transfer in Chicago. She’d planned to sleep most of the way, but instead, she was a nervous wreck.
To make things worse, the guy sitting across the aisle from her—a thirtysomething travel writer typing on his laptop—kept staring at her legs, which was making her uncomfortable. Until she realized she was jiggling her foot. Probably shaking the whole row.
She stopped. Gave him a conciliatory smile. Heard him hit the keyboard again as she watched her hometown disappear street by street.
By the time they’d gone ten miles, her mind had gone right back to worrying. Where the hell was Wes? Her ex-boyfriend/current business partner had gone ahead to New York to settle their living arrangements and meet up with some college friends who lived in Manhattan and had the connections she and Wes needed to get their fledgling concierge business off the ground.
Their last conversation had been great. He’d been excited about seeing her and showing her the temporary apartment he’d found for them. So why wasn’t he picking up?
The guy across the aisle was gathering up his things. One glance told her she was the reason. He stood, taking the time to give her an evil look.
Ah. Her leg was bouncing again. “Sorry,” she said, but he didn’t respond. At least now she had the row to herself.
Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a bit?
That lasted about two minutes.
Wes had managed to get an amazing deal on a place in Nolita, which, she’d quickly learned, meant the area north of Little Italy, in a building that was being remodeled. It was just a small room and a bathroom on the second floor of an empty apartment, but it was cheap, belonged to a friend of a friend and, well, they didn’t need all that much in the way of luxuries. The biggest problem would be the sleeping arrangements.
Wes knew their relationship was and would remain strictly business. They’d actually been over for a while. April knew he’d hoped the break they’d taken would only be temporary, but she had to wonder if he wasn’t answering because he knew her mind was made up and he was pissed about it. Although he’d had plenty of time to tell her he didn’t want to move forward with their business plans. She figured there had to be a good reason why he hadn’t been in contact, and she couldn’t help but worry that he’d been in an accident, or the victim of a mugging—or worse.
She stopped herself. No use sending herself into more of a tizzy. She’d find out what was going on soon enough.
At their stop in Chicago, she ordered a croissant and a large double espresso venti from a kiosk in the bus terminal then added a double-chocolate brownie and a blueberry muffin. She’d probably gain ten pounds before she even got to the most amazing restaurant city in the world.
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