What Happens In Italy..._A BWWM Billionaire Romance Read online

  “No?” She squeezed the phone between her thighs to keep from smiling. She gave a bogus reason, which convinced her that she was better off being quiet.

  Twenty minutes later, her hair cascaded down her shoulders, bangs hiding the upper left portion of her face. She slipped into a pair of burgundy four-inch pumps that matched her lipstick and handbag. She finished the look with diamond studs, a sterling silver tennis bracelet, and her favorite heart pendant necklace that her dad gave her for her 20th birthday.

  Upon entering the living room, she performed a pirouette. “How do I look?”

  “Like I said, he’s not gonna be able to keep his hands off you. I’m struggling not to touch you now.”

  “Thanks butthead.”

  “Just being honest.”

  Both women jumped when a knock sounded on the door. They laughed at their lack of experience with chivalry. Most men who picked them up for dates summoned them with a text or honk. Nariah smoothed her dress over her legs and tussled her hair before she stood in front of the door. She looked back at Olivia, who gave her a nod of confidence.

  Russell presented her with a fresh bouquet of deep red roses, his mouth hanging open as he handed them to her. “You look good—”

  “For a black woman,” she finished with a half grin.

  “Period. Wow.”

  “Well thank you, sir. Come in while I put these in some water.” She introduced the two strangers, warning Olivia to play nice on the way to her kitchen. On her return, he promised to return for drinks.

  He held the door open for her, taking a long look at her backside as she passed in front of him.

  “Don’t keep her out too late, Russell. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Nariah.”

  “So anything goes?”

  “Shut up. But seriously, enjoy yourselves.” She made sure her best friend had her key, also getting Russell’s phone number.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome, baby girl.”

  As they exited the building, she looked for a limo or luxury SUV, not spotting one. She followed him to an inconspicuous Fiat parked a few feet away. She held her arms across her chest as he jogged around to his side.

  “Get in.”

  “You’re not gonna open my door for me?”

  “With you being a modern woman, I thought you could handle it.” He stopped her as she grabbed the door handle, his hand engulfing hers. “I was just kidding.” He stepped aside after opening the door, making sure she was safely in before closing it. He started the car and blew into his hands as he waited for the engine to warm.

  She examined the interior, slightly disappointed they weren’t riding in something fancier.

  “Not what you were expecting?” he asked.

  “It’s fine.”

  “You don’t have to lie, Nariah.”

  “Why a Fiat? It’s so small.” Even though she pushed her seat back as far as it would go, she still felt scrunched.

  “I wanted to give you the real Italian experience; small cars come with that. Besides, I need to make sure you don’t like me for my money.”

  “What makes you think I like you?”

  “Because I’m a strange man you met a few days ago and you’re dressed like that in a toy car. You don’t do that for someone you don’t like.”

  “Touchè Mr. Haines.”

  He ignored her questions concerning where they were going, pressing on the accelerator to make the engine purr. He pulled the gearshift into the drive position, warning her to hang on. A second later, he pulled into traffic, narrowly missing a couple on a moped. They reached the Autostrade ten minutes later, where he let the windows down. The air was still warm despite the sun steadily disappearing behind the treeline.

  She turned the radio down and rolled up her window so she could hear. “Now are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

  “I take it you don’t like surprises much.”

  “It depends on who is giving me the surprise.”

  He patted her on the thigh, letting his hand linger a bit before resting it on the steering wheel. “We’re going to dinner, like I said.” He grabbed her hand. “Trust me. I’d never let anything happen to you.”

  “I hope not because Olivia will hunt you down.”

  “As she should. She realizes how special you are.”

  They were silent for the rest of the ride, Russell still holding on to her hand. She glared out the window, taking in the beautiful scenic landscape, the colors much brighter than they were back home. She felt herself drifting to sleep when they came to a stop at a small Tuscan restaurant, with string lights hanging across the top. The mountain backdrop gave the area a secluded feel, adding to its intimacy.

  Russell jogged around to her side and opened the door, holding her by the arm as he helped her out. He watched her as she took in the scene. “Worth the drive?”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled.

  He leaned down, pulling his ear forward. “What was that?”

  “It’s nice.” She patted his back. “Good job, Mr. Haines.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Alexander. I’m glad you approve.” He wrapped her hand around his tight bicep and led the way inside.

  The sweet smell of fresh baked bread wafted into her nose as soon as she set foot in the quaint bistro. Opera music played softly through the speakers, candles giving the place a reddish hue. They picked a table in the back, quiet as they looked over the drink menu.

  “See anything you like?”

  “I can’t read anything.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll pick. I’m sure I know what you like.”

  “You gonna order my food too?”

  “If you want.”

  As she watched him converse with the waiter in fluid Italian, she decided to let her guard down; something she rarely did. For some reason or another, she felt secure with him. Against her better judgment, she decided to let him lead. If anything went wrong, she had an out for not speaking to him again.

  They managed to finish two glasses of wine each before the waiter arrived with their food. Nariah carefully cut through her chicken, saliva flooding her mouth as she watched the steam snake into view. A moan floated into the air as the combination of authentic Italian flavors coated her taste buds.

  “You like?”

  “It’s amazing. I may never eat Italian food in the States again.”

  “That’s how I felt the first time I ate here too.” He twirled some strands of pasta around his fork, holding his hand under it as he offered it to her. “Open.”

  “I usually don’t take too kindly to a man telling me to open my mouth.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. You gotta try this.”

  Her eyes were slits as he inched the fork forward. She opened her mouth just wide enough for the utensil to slide in. She closed her eyes, savoring the rich tomato sauce, the tender chunks of meat melting on her tongue. She loosened her lips, allowing him to remove the fork. His eyes were on her when she opened her eyes.

  “How was it?”

  “Why didn’t you order that for me?”

  “Maybe I will if you win the next race.”

  They enjoyed light conversation as they ate, the topics spanning from politics to sports. They found their comfort zone in a passion they both shared, health and fitness. What started as an exchange of advice, became a competition to see who was in better shape. Her dress allowed her to show off her impressive arms and back.

  “Tell me about your tattoo,” he said, changing the topic once more.

  Her eyes dropped. She traced the outline with her fingertips, some of the skin raised where the artist went too deep. “I was young and dumb, got it in high school.”

  “I like it. The artist did a good job. I’ve never been a fan.”

  “Too permanent?”

  “Afraid of needles,” he admitted. He threw his napkin on the table and kicked his chair back, his hands resting on his bloated stomach. “I am stuffed.”

  She loo
ked down at the remaining food on her plate, over half. “I might have to take this home to Olivia.”

  After instructing the waiter to wrap up the leftovers, Russell excused himself to the restroom. Upon his return, he downed another glass of wine before taking a long look at her. The slight wave in his frame demonstrated the level of his drunkenness: just enough to feel good, but sober enough to drive.

  “You ready to go?”

  “I didn’t think you really had a curfew.”

  “I don’t. I just didn’t know if you had anything else planned.”

  “Dance with me.”

  “I don’t dance.”

  He rose to his feet, offering a hand to help her up. He held her waist as they walked to the center of the restaurant. He slipped his other arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He shifted their weight back and forth, moving in small circles to the soft music.

  “I just noticed that we’ve been the only two here the entire night.”

  “That’s because I rented it out.”

  “How much did that cost? You didn’t have to do all that for me.”

  He used a finger to lift her chin. “I wanted to and the price is none of your concern. Just know I’m not hurting.” He released her, his arm finding its spot on her lower back. Every few minutes, he readjusted his position, making sure to remain respectful.

  Though their bodies weren’t touching, they were close enough to feel one another’s heat, their scents mingling together to create a unique aroma that balanced the masculine and feminine. As time wore on, they grew closer, Russell resting his chin on the top of her head, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “So,” he said.

  “So what?”

  “Are you glad you decided to give me a chance?”

  “I didn’t give you a chance. I’m upholding my end of the bet I lost; which I didn’t really lose because I caught a cramp.”

  “I’ll take it.” He began massaging her back. “Either way, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I am too.”

  He released his hold, taking a step back, his eyes wide with surprise. His face then relaxed into a subtle grin.

  “What’s that look?”

  “That just made my night.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the other tightening around her waist. The Italian music they swayed to made it hard to tell how long they had been dancing. Once her feet started hurting, they decided to leave.

  Once in the car, they took a moment to check their phones while waiting for the engine to warm up. Nariah kept her eyes trained on her screen, reminding herself that they weren’t in a relationship and that he didn’t have to tell her anything. The question on the tip of her tongue scalded her mouth, causing her to maneuver herself so that she faced him.

  “Yes?” he asked, his eyes still glued to his screen.

  “Need to ask you something.”

  He brought his eyes up and laid his phone face down on his leg. “Ask away Ms. Alexander.”

  “Are you free?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “Do you have a wife, girlfriend, any previous commitments?”

  Russell’s grip tightened on the wheel, loosening before she had a chance to see it. He slowly inhaled to prevent his chest from giving away his apprehension. As he shifted in his seat, he became aware of his phone. He began drumming a beat on the dashboard should it decide to start ringing. He looked in her direction after realizing how much time had passed since she posed the question. Her eyes were trained on her hands. The lie in the back of his throat threatened to gag him. “I—” He wiped his mouth, sopping the bits of truth leaking from the corners of his mouth.

  “Tell me the truth.” Her voice was monotone, her gaze remaining on her hands.

  That wasn’t an option. Whereas he usually didn’t hesitate in being honest with a woman, Nariah was different. He wasn’t sure if their date would turn into something more, but he was sure he wasn’t willing to throw away a chance at seeing if it could. He grabbed her hand and put it to his lips. “I’m not seeing anyone. And there’s no one for you to worry about.”

  If she would have been looking at him, she would have noticed the lies behind the fire in his eyes. She looked up too late and saw nothing more than a man who wanted to get to know her. “Okay.”

  “Any more questions?”

  “Do you have any kids hidden away or a crazy baby mama that’s trying to ruin your life?”

  He strained his mind to keep his eyes from widening. He willed himself to keep a straight face and a relaxed grip on her wrist. He swallowed hard and combed his fingers through his hair. “Would you stop seeing me if I did?”

  “Depends on why you’re hiding the kids and how crazy your hypothetical baby mama is.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Sooo, is that a yes?”

  He kissed the back of her hand once more. “No sweetheart. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Nariah settled down into her seat, her knees rubbing against the dashboard. She kicked her shoes off and threw them into the back seat before rolling down the window, flexing her toes as the wind blew through and around them. Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she spotted the amused look on his face. “Don’t act like your people aren’t known for this.”

  He placed a hand on his chest, his mouth in the shape of the letter O. “My people?”

  She shook her head as she laughed. “That’s not how it works. You can only get mad if I say you people.”

  “So complicated.”

  “You have a lot to learn, Mr. Haines.”

  “Well then teach me, Ms. Alexander.”

  Russell rested a hand on her thigh as he applied pressure to the gas pedal. He plugged his phone in, taking a few seconds to find a song to match his mood. Jay Z’s New York accent flowed through the speaker with him rapping along, not missing a beat. After the first verse, he noticed her looking at him with her signature eyebrow raise. “I’m an old school hip-hop head.”

  “I would have never guessed.”

  “You have a lot to learn. Ms. Alexander.”

  “Teach me then, Mr. Haines.”

  Chapter3

  Olivia and Nariah were sitting in the living room, enjoying a cup of coffee and laying out their plans for the day. She had been actively trying to avoid the conversation about her date for as long as possible. Olivia had been asleep when she’d gotten home, so she was saved from the embarrassment of having to tell her that she and Russell kissed.

  After handing her a fresh cup, Olivia sat next to her best friend, quiet as she examined her.

  “What are you doing?” Nariah questioned.

  “Trying to find the truth because I know you’re not gonna tell me.”

  She pulled down her collar, proving that she had no mouth shaped bruises on her neck or collarbone. She made sure to take a shower so his scent didn’t linger. “I’m clean.”

  “So what happened yesterday?”

  “We went out to eat, talked, and danced. It was a typical date.”

  “What else happened?”

  “Nothing. That was it. Oh, he took me out in the smallest car ever.”

  Olivia snatched the mug from her hands, using her leg to keep Nariah at bay. “What else happened?”

  “Nothing. We got a little close during the dance, but that’s it. Give me back my coffee, you know I can’t function right without it.”

  “I know there’s more. Spill it.” She remained stern despite the bottom lip jutting out at her, the almond eyes longing for the white mug in her hand. She began walking to the kitchen as Nariah huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “Okay.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “About to pour this down the sink.”

  “You better not.”

  “Watch me.” She took a sip. “Such a shame; this is the best cup I made so far.” Her long strides had her across the room in less than ten steps, her pace such that her victim had to jog to
catch up. She had reached the farmhouse style sink by then. She turned the faucet on full blast, tipping the mug so the brown liquid flirted with the edge.

  “Don’t do it,” she pleaded, showing her palms.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I didn’t sleep with him.”