Page 52 of I Would Beg For You

I’m suddenly ashamed—I can’t let her think I’m gay when she just confessed this. “It’s a man. I changed the name in my contacts.”

“Ah.”

I don’t see reproach or condemnation on her features. How, and why, did I ever think her cold and unfeeling?

“And you miss him, this man? I don’t suppose you’ve been having many opportunities to meet lately.”

I chuckle, which comes out as a snort. “When you’ve been carting me around everywhere every day?”

She laughs, too. “It was for your own good.”

Her words make us both sober up. I can’t believe she was protecting me from Thad all along.

“This is a safe place, Naomi. And I gave you the code. Whenever you need a breather, come here,” she says as she gets up.

I start to follow, but she puts a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Stay. I was going to bring you to the office with me today to go through some paperwork. No one will know you’re not there with me. I’ll pick you up around six, okay?”

Tears are pricking my eyes at her kindness. I get up and hug her.

After a few seconds, she pulls away. “Call your man. See if you can’t meet up today.” She winks. “Maybe even fit in a quickie, who knows?”

The memory of Valentino telling me I was his first quickie slides in, and I can feel myself turning bright red. Anya laughs as she leaves.

Glancing around the room, it’s only now I realize she also brought my purse. It’s on a stool near the kitchen island. I go to it and retrieve my phone.

I have a free afternoon, away from prying eyes. And after what happened at home… I close my eyes and blank out this episode. It happened, yes, but I can’t let it destroy me or do anything but empower me to be my strongest self. I know what to look out for now, and I have an ally—better yet, a friend—in Anya.

And the one person who makes me come into myself and my power is none other than Valentino.

I find a pin of my location then send a text.

Me:I miss you. Come see me. I’ll be here all afternoon, alone.

Chapter 18 Valentino

I’m at lunch withmy best friend, Marco Benedetti, when her text lands. I excuse myself to check my phone, and a soft curse escapes my lips as I open the text then check the pin.

Naomi is in Tribeca, less than twenty minutes away by foot from where I am in Little Italy. And she’s alone.

I’m suspicious at first. She’s never on her own lately, that blonde always her shadow wherever she goes. Anya Brennan is a shark, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find she’s been hired to stick to Naomi so Joel Smith can check her every move.

So, I text back in code.

Me:What’s not on the menu?

Naomi:Liver

Her reply is erased a few seconds later. That’s our code. Someone else won’t know what to reply seeing it’s an inside joke, plus she deletes the text so there’s no record in our thread.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“Now what have you gotten yourself into?” Marco asks.

I sit back as a waitress appears to take our plates away and leave espressos on the table. We’re at his uncle’s restaurant. Hismother, Renata, was my mother’s best friend in Italy. When Mamma married my dad and came here, Renata came along, bringing her brother Claudius with her. My father funded his business, and ever since, this has been my family’s go-to for every occasion. Birthdays, Luciano’s wedding dinner, Luka’s christening lunch. Then Mamma’s wake, Eliza’s funeral brunch, and more recently, my dad’s burial dinner.

Too many bad memories lately. We need to make some good ones anew.

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