Page 5 of Better Left Unsaid

Thinking about it. . . .

Still thinking. . . .

Yep, my answer wasn’t changing. Maybe it didn’t have to be the only time we had sex. I mean, who said it had to be? “What if it wasn’t?” I pondered aloud.

“Maria?” Dom looked at me and cocked a brow, then went back to collecting his clothes one by one and getting dressed.

“What if we did this again?” I asked nonchalantly, stepping into my heels and tossing his shoes to him. No reason to make a big deal out of it. We did it once, we could do it twice, or we could do it ninety times (oof, that sounded like a lot, actually), what was the difference? We’d seen each other naked, he’d entered me, I’d confessed never having an orgasm. I’d say our friendship had already reached new levels today.

He bent down and put his shoes on, the shiny patent leather catching my eye. “What are you proposing?” he questioned.

I pursed my lips. There was no turning back now, so I might as well just say it. “Let’s be friends with benefits.” I looked in the mirror, adjusted my boobs in my gown, and fixed my hair before turning my attention to my lips. “Only when we’re single and need a fix.” Like my lips, they needed a fix—but of a different kind. My lipstick was practically all gone. Too bad my purse that held my lipstick was still at the table. “But there will have to be rules.”

“What kind of rules?”

I hadn’t really given it any thought at all. But there should’ve been rules, right? My mind turned over a few simple rules quick enough, touching on only the things that really mattered. “One, it’s just sex, no emotions. Two, no one finds out. I’d hate for our families to get on our case. Finally, three, and this is the most important rule, we cannot let it ruin our friendship.”

Dom grinned, tossing me a flirty wink that had me rolling my eyes. “Done.” It was a good thing I was immune to his charming demeanor. The grin followed by the wink was one of his signature panty-dropping moves. No words necessary, only body language. Which led to more body language, if you caught my drift. Oh, who was I kidding? I wasn’t exactly being subtle.

I nodded, my hand on the door. That was that, then. Dom and I were officially friends with benefits. I made out like a bandit here because hisbenefitswere definitely something I was interested in. “Come on, I want dessert.”

“If you want dessert, then don’t leave this room and get ready to have an orgasm.”

Tossing back my head, I laughed. “Watch out, big boy. You don’t want your head to become inflated. You won’t be able to walk out the door.”

“Just stating facts,” Dom said simply, stepping behind me and holding the door open for me to leave first.

Chapter Two

Maria

present day

“You wanted tosee me,” I said, approaching the owner and editor-in-chief ofBellissima, who also happened to be my father—Angelo Morelli.

You see, it hadn’t always been my father at the helm.Bellissimawas actually the brainchild of my late mother. She had made this fashion magazine what it was today—inspirational and paramount to the industry. We were at the crux of it all, and I loved being able to say I was the fashion editor for the publication.

Smart, sophisticated, elegant, confident, and with a heart of gold, Regina Morelli was my idol. I just so happened to have been fortunate enough to be able to call her mom, for as brief a time as it may have been. Now, not a day went by that I didn’t think about her. Frankly, it was hard not to. I felt her presence surrounding me everywhere in the building simply walking the halls.

Of course, I gave credit where credit was due, and the continued success we had was all thanks to my dad. He’d taken on more than his fair share. When he’d worked with Mom, they’d seen to it each issue came out flawlessly, but now he was doing it all on his own, and I couldn’t say I envied him.

I backed up, and the chair in front of my dad’s desk hit the back of my legs. But I didn’t sit until he said, “Maria,” and gestured for me to do so.

I crossed my legs and fixed my pants so they didn’t wrinkle. “I saw your face in the meeting this morning when Perla brought up the idea of adding anaskcolumn to the magazine, but I actually think—”

“Your sister’s idea was very thoughtful, and while I’m not a huge fan of change, I have been studying the market, and I think opening things up to our readers would draw more attention. I even liked Allegra’s idea of extending the column to social media to get more people involved.” He grinned, leaned forward, and held his hands together. “I’m quite lucky in that regard. I have four very bright daughters.”

Who had at one point all worked at the magazine together. It would have stayed that way, but while Perla and Allie (our nickname for Allegra) still worked here, Bianca had chosen to follow her dreams of becoming a wedding dress designer.

“If you’re not worried about the new column, what is it you wanted to talk with me about?” I asked, raising a brow and placing my hands on my thigh.

He cleared his throat and pointed a finger upward, his eyes focused on me. “Before your mother passed away—rest her soul—we discussed grooming you to step into her shoes one day. That day has come.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Suddenly my palms were sweating, and I had an urge to wipe them on my pants.

Me? As the editor-in-chief? I couldn’t. I mean, I’d never thought about it. I loved my current position and never imagined myself in that role. It wasn’t that I didn’t want it. Because I did. Of course I did. I would’ve been a fool if I didn’t. This was huge.

Then again, so were my mother’s shoes. There was no telling if I would be as good as she was, and that thought right there, that I might let her, my dad, and my entire family down and screw up the legacy they’d built, was a lot.

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