Chapter 12
“You know you’re just the rebound guy don’t you?”
“Padre please stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“She’s just using you and you know it.”
“I was the one trying to use her. I’m lucky she forgave me. Now I’m really late for coffee with Gino Parelli. I gotta go dad.”
“She’s been seeing some guy named Travis behind your back!”
That actually got Paolo to stop and turn to face his father, “Where did you hear that name?”
Giuseppe Agnelli shrugged, “I had people look into her.”
“She hasn’t seen Travis in…months.”
“You sure about that Paolo? You want to be made a fool of? again?”
Paolo studied his father, eyes narrowed face like thunder, “You lie!” he growled as he stormed off. Giuseppe leaned back and watched him. He had planted the seed. Now it was up to Benjamin.
*****
“My mother’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“Is that so? Why?”
Cora looked up from the salad she was tossing, watching Paolo with a puzzled expression.
“What’s up with you anyway? You’ve been antsy ever since we got back from Rome.”
Paolo let huffed a breath out of his nose, “I’m fine.”
“Sure you are. Is it your family? Did they not like me?”
“My family is great,” Paolo snapped.
“Ookay,” Cora murmured returning to her salad tossing. Paolo swung round to face her.
“When did you last see Travis anyway?”
“What? Travis?”
“Yeah. Travis. You know, your ex-fiancé?”
Cora shrugged carelessly, “Why do we care about him?”
Paolo took a step toward her, “Would you just answer the question?”
“I haven’t seen him since the last time I was in New Orleans. Now what is this about?”
Paolo just stared at her and then walked away.
*****
“Marisol? I need you to do something for me.”
“Yes sir?”
“Find out the movements of Travis Connell in the last two months. And whether he met up with Cora Lafitte at all in that time.”
“Yes sir.”
That’s what he liked about Marisol. She did not ask unnecessary questions.
*****
Paolo had just come out of a meeting with the country director for Michellin when Marisol walked up to him with a file.
“The information you wanted,” she said.
“Thank you Marisol,” he said and turned at once to his office.
“Hey Agnelli, we’re heading out for a celebratory drink. You coming?”
“Not right now,” he said holding up the file, “Important work awaits.”
“Damn Agnelli, all work and no play makes Paolo a dull boy. Leave the file for later.”
Paolo forced a smile even though he felt like he had ants in his pants. He needed to read what was in this file, “Another time Steve.”
“Suit yourself P,” Steve said with a wave.
“Yeah. I will,” Paolo said to himself, turning on his heel and hurrying to his office. He locked the door behind him and began to read.
*****
His father had had to know that he would check it out. Surely he hadn’t expected to just be believed. So why would he say that stuff about Travis Connell knowing full well it wasn’t true. Marisol was very thorough in her research. He had the names of every single pussy Travis had brushed against; every place he’d hung out at, every city he’d been in. He hadn’t been anywhere near New York in a year. He and Cora hadn’t been anywhere in the vicinity of each other since they broke off the engagement. So what games was his father trying to play?
He leaned back in his seat, thinking hard.
His father didn’t want him with Cora.
But his father knew nothing about Cora’s life apart from the fact that she was Benjamin Lafitte’s daughter.
So how would his father have known about Travis.
Unless…
Benjamin told him.
Paolo could imagine that if there was one thing their respective fathers could agree on, it was that they didn’t want their kids to be together…
Paolo set down the file slowly.
*****
Cora woke to the smell of coffee and, behind it, buttered toast. She blinked. Watery morning light filtered through opened shutters. Rain spattered on the windows.
“Good morning,” Paolo said.
Cora sat up, clutching the sheets to her body. “Mmm. What time is it?”
“Half past ten.”
“That early?”
Paolo laughed, and leaned toward her with a coffee cup and saucer in his hand. Cora let an undignified whimper escape her lips, and reached out more greedily than was compatible with Lafitte dignity. They’d been up late, late even for a Lafitte. So late it probably counted as early.
The coffee was good, and that was real cream in it. The right amount of sugar, too. Paolo had been getting her coffee right for months, though he groused about the sugar, and she had been getting his tea right. Some things didn’t change, even though they were in a hotel in New Orleans instead of in her house in New York. Chantale had wanted them to stay with her but Cora wasn’t comfortable with that arrangement.
Cora drank the coffee Paolo had made her, and reflected with no little satisfaction that she’d be bumping uglies with Paolo again soon. Rome had been lovely, but they had stayed with Donatella at her villa so were on their best behavior. Though she’d miss the clothes. The leather pants she’d had made just before she’d flown here were the most amazing things. For the first time in her life, she got the fitting like a glove thing. Paolo hadn’t seen her in those pants yet.
Cora smiled from behind the shelter of her coffee cup, and drank the sugary dregs.
“Coffee to your liking, then?”
“Perfect.”
She stuck her empty cup out of the way on the nightstand. She knelt up in bed and stretched, taking care to arch her back, in proper sex-kitten style. One hand ran through her hair, and the other kept the bed sheet in place over her breasts. Paolo’s eyes were on her, and he set his own coffee cup down on its saucer without looking away. Cora let herself smile again and turned to the toast Paolo had made. Lots of butter, a little marmalade.