Page 102 of Wicked

“Thanks,” I say. “I’d like that.”

I know I’m becoming too open, too honest, and too available, but screw it. Raven is honest, open, free, and uncomplicated, and I have no need to be a closed off cold arsehole right here and now. It’s okay to let my guard down for once, and if not now, with her, then when?

“If you do read it. That makes you the first in my body… and in my mind.”

Raven is standing at the fire now, and our eyes hold. Again, they don’t look away. I want to say something, only I can’t yet.

I want to say, “I want to be the last too, Raven. And there will be no other. You are mine, do you understand?”

I look into the fire, and I try to understand what the heck is going on and what to do.

I know Raven wants to write novels full time and to do less travel editing for others. Maybe a little nudge would help her along, and why the heck not?

“So, how about a deal?” I say without planning to.

“For what?”

“You dislike editing and writing travel fluff, correct? You also said, in your words, not mine, ‘I hate editing other people’s work. It’s like polishing turds.’”

Raven raises a brow, and she steps closer to me. “Okay, Grumpy, you’ve got my attention. Your deal?”

I step closer and I lift her chin. “While I get the theme park operational, you back away from the fluff, and you follow your dream. Then… first to finish gets to do anything they want to the other.”

Raven’s eyes explore me, and I know I’m getting too close to her. I’m in too deep.

Things are moving fast too, but are they moving dangerously fast?

This kind of deal will be tight, and I will soon have a huge amount of work. I will also be making a sizeable and complex commitment. Just as I realize it’s a foolish bet to make, Raven extends her hand.

Finally, I do the same, and we shake hands above Tito.

Raven then walks to her novel notes and her computer. “Now, I have to write, because that’s what I do!”

Tito and I watch her, and he looks up at me, unsure. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Tito. Mom’s a little crazy. Sure, she’s sexy and smart. But totally nuts.”

Tito barks, and I watch Raven dig in at the other end of the table. As she throws a scrunched-up piece of paper at me, I know she is different.

Different from all the rest.

As she focuses on polishing her hundred-thousand-word novel, I have even more respect for her. Few have the drive and discipline to pull off a novel, and even fewer allow themselves to be educated at the same time.

I turn to the large fireplace, and I stare into the swirling flames. As I contemplate my complex and colossal task, I think back to what Raven had said when she first pitched the idea.

Many of her ideas make sense, and I twirl the silver pen in my hand.

A theme park celebrating all things Italian and Tuscan would unite the family and bring us closer. It would also strengthen us as a family, like in the past.

It could save the castle and, yes, no doubt stimulate the villa and other local stores and businesses.

It’s a big task, but building my billion-dollar fashion company in NYC was herculean. Even if I do not look forward to the red tape here in Italy, it needs to be done.

“Fuck!” I mumble as I rub the back of my neck. I grab my notepad, jacket, and I call for Tito.

“Come on, boy, let’s go!”

Three hours later,with plans I’ve sketched on land use for the theme park and now fully emersed, I return with Tito. Raven is still in the zone, and she is working passionately.

Her brow is furrowed, and I can tell her powerful imagination is processing a million miles an hour. She’s cute when she does that, maybe too cute.

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