Giorgio (Members From Money Season 2, #136)

Chapter 6

He was avoiding her, and he hated himself for being such a bloody coward. Last night was unbearable. He had arrived home in the dead of night after driving aimlessly around and imbibed, thinking he could get hammered enough to fall asleep. But he had been proven wrong.

He had spent the better part of the night agonizing over whether or not she was in the throes of a nightmare. He had almost gotten out of bed to check on her but decided against it. It wouldn’t have been prudent to go into her room at all.

This morning, he rose bleary eyed and irritable. After donning workout gear, he had gone into his private gym and practically eviscerated the punching bag. Not feeling punished enough, he had forty-five minutes on the Peloton, setting the machine at an almost breakneck speed.

Soaked in perspiration, he had lifted weights until his muscles were screaming. After cooling down a bit, he had stripped naked and done several laps in the pool next to the gym.

Dragging himself from the water, he noticed to his surprise that it was almost eight. He had been up since five. Toweling himself dry, he picked up his phone to see if he had received any missed calls. When it was confirmed that there were no calls from her, he dialed her room.

“Hello?”

Dropping the damp towel on a bench, he dragged his fingers through his tangled hair. “Hi, its Giorgio.”

His name on her lips was doing things to his internal and external organs. This was ridiculous. “How are you? Did you sleep well?”

“It felt a little strange at first, but I managed to nod off. I was served breakfast in bed.” She itemized the things on her tray and sounded much like a child with her first taste of ice cream. “I am sure I had yoghurt before, but this is something and the cappuccino is so good, I had to ask for more.”

“I am happy you are enjoying the meal.” She made him smile, her frank admiration for the simple things was a novelty to him.

“I am going to take a shower.”

“Call one of the maids…”

“No. I might not have my memory back, but I am pretty certain I would feel weird having a female undressing me and giving me a bath. I can manage.”

“In case you have forgotten, you have a cast on your leg.”

“I will be careful.”

He almost offered to do the honors but bit it back. “Juliana, I really think you should have someone…”

“The answer is no, and I really do not want to continue arguing about it. What are you doing?”

“I was working out.”

“Here?”

“Yes.” He tossed the damp towel and just missed the hamper. “I have a private gym and a pool.”

“Of course you do. How was the workout?”

“Brutal. What would you like to do today?”

“Go for a drive.”

“A drive?”

“Yes. I want to see some of the sights. I believe I was sightseeing when I…, when you…”

“When I almost killed you.” He filled in the blanks.

“Giorgio…”

“I am surprised you would want to allow me to drive you anywhere or was I being too presumptuous? We have several drivers; I could ask one of them…”

“Please stop.” Her quiet tone had him feeling like dirt.

“I apologize.” He told her contritely. Lowering himself on a chaise, he rubbed his forehead where a low-grade headache was forming. “When would you like to go?”

“If you are not up to it…”

“I am up to it. Dress warm, the weather is worsening.”

“There is something I would like to do first.”

“What is it?”

“Would you come to my room, please?”

*****

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

She told him she wanted to face time her brother and didn’t quite know what to do. “I want to reassure him that I am being well taken care of.”

“I will place the call and give you some privacy.”

She nodded.

Calling up the number and pressing video, he handed her the phone and left the room.

“Thank God! Jules, you, okay?”

She smiled at the man who looked so much like her. She did not remember him or anything about her life, but the resemblance was evident.

“I am fine. You call me Jules.”

“When we were kids, the names, Julian and Juliana were too similar, so dad decided to call you Jules to avoid confusion.” He peered at her. “You do look better. I am sorry I have not been able to get away, but this case I am working on is dragging along and I cannot leave or hand it over to anyone else. What does the doctor say?”

“I am doing pretty well, except the memory thing. I have several therapists coming by today to work with me.”

“Russo is standing by his word. Do you know who he is?”

“No. Not really. I only know that this place is like a palace. He told me they own department stores among other things.”

Her brother barked a laughter. “That is the understatement of the century. They are not just department stores; they are high-end exclusive stores that cater to the very rich and famous. The Russo’s are Italian royalty.”

Lifting her head, she gazed around the palatial room and could well believe they were.

“He doesn’t act high and mighty.”

“That is because he feels as guilty as hell. He almost killed you.”

She smiled at the anger in his voice. “But he didn’t, and he is doing his best to take care of me. Was I working? Is there…?” She frowned slightly. “Do I have a guy?”

“No and no.” She saw when he hesitated as if wondering how much to tell her.

“Please, don’t spare me.”

“You lost your job.”

“What kind of job was it?”

“You were an editor at a publishing house.”

“Was I fired?”

“No.” he shook his head. “The place went out of business.”

“And the guy?”

“Was an asshole you were well rid of.”

She smiled at his disgruntled tone. “I take it you did not approve of him.”

“He was a spineless idiot. Now, enough about that. When can you come home?”

“Do I have a home?”

He hesitated again. “I persuaded you to give up the dump of an apartment you seemed so attached to.”

“The doctor does not want me flying all the way back just yet. They are still monitoring me. Besides, I don’t have a job or a significant other…”

“You have me, Jules, and I love you.” He told her quietly.

She nodded solemnly. “I want to stay until I am recovered.”

“Jules…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing. Just take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

*****

Back in his office, Julian settled more comfortably in his leather chair and frowned at the faded wallpaper across from his desk. He had told her the truth about the case he was working on.

The damn workload was such that he had had to spend the last three nights bunking in his office so that he could be on top of things. And even so, he was trailing behind. It was frustrating as hell, especially since he would have loved to book a damn flight and go and see his sister.

He would prefer her here in the State, in her home. Turning slightly, he touched the key on his laptop and stared at the influx of photos that came up. Giorgio Russo was photogenic, which he should be considering he was the face of a very lucrative company.

He was photographed with some extremely well-known women. A European princess, the current Ms. World, movie actresses, theater icons, a diplomat’s daughter, an Italian opera singer. All of those women had several things in common, they were raving beauties and highly placed in society.

And he did not stay with one woman for very long. He was labeled as an international playboy, who partied and jet set around the world using daddy’s money to sustain his expensive habits.

And now Juliana was under his roof, his palatial roof. He loved his sister and to him, she was very attractive. If she put herself together instead of wearing all those baggy clothes, she would be a knockout. But she was nothing compared to those women and her vulnerability, her lack of memory were reasons enough to fall for a man like Giorgio.

A man who would never notice her if she walked by him. They were not in the same sphere. He was royalty, she was not.

He wanted to hasten to Italy, bundle her up and fly her back to America. Hissing out a breath, he leaned back in his chair. She was going to get her heart broken and there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

*****

He turned his head to stare at her profile. She was wearing a stunning green cashmere dress that suited her slender frame.

And she had done something to her short curls to have them look glossy. Larg gold hoops were at her lobes, and she had donned lip gloss. He had included a cushion for her broken leg, so that it could be propped up and out of the way.

But she was quiet, and her head was turned towards the window.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Juliana.”

His deep slightly accented voice had a jarring effect on her and had her turning towards him. “I don’t have a job.”

He gave her a puzzled look as he negotiated traffic. “I do not understand. I thought you were here on vacation.”

“My brother told me that I was an editor at a publishing company. The company went out of business, and I was dumped by the guy I was seeing.”

He glanced at her again and privately thought the guy was a colossal idiot. “Do you think you were in love with him?”

She shook her head. “I cannot remember anything about him, so that would be a no. I am more concerned that I don’t have a job.”

“I am certain there are more jobs available. Do you think you were an excellent editor?”

She made a face that had him grinning. He had been hesitant about this trip that required them to be in close proximity to each other for several hours, but he was happy she had suggested it.

“I hope so. I love reading.”

“That came back to you?”

She nodded.

“There is a library on the first floor…”

“With books written in Italian?”

“As well as some English titles. Mother insisted on me knowing how to read the language, not just speak it. And she was a fan of historical romance.” He shook his head wryly. “We have a whole section of fiction writing and the library is quite large. Here we are.”

She had been so engrossed in the conversation that she missed the entire journey.

He slid into a park near enough for her to see the building and far away enough not to be recognized. He had also chosen his vehicle carefully. A nondescript gray jeep was not his usual mode of transportation, and no one would expect him to be driving something like this. “Do you know the history?”

“Some of it.” She was peering through the windshield at the towering building, where tourists were crawling around every surface. The chilly weather had not stopped them in the least and Juliana could see why. The building was breathtaking.

“It was originally called the Flavian Amphitheater, from the dynasty that ruled the empire back then.” He told her of Emperor Commodos and his ego boosting need to get in on the gladiator fights.

She listened in fascination as he recounted the history and found herself falling under the hypnotic sound of his deep voice. He looked relaxed and comfortable, like this was the only place he wanted to be.

She had looked him up after her brother hung up and was flabbergasted to realize just who he was. She had also seen hundreds of photos of him with different women, all of them incredibly beautiful. She knew he wasn’t married, but was he seeing anyone? And if so, why was he spending so much time with her?

She would be a fool to read anything in the attention he was showering on her, but she could not help the need to be with him, to hear his voice. For a little less than a week, he had become the center of her life.

“You would make a fascinating tour guide.” She told him teasingly when he lapsed into silence.

“God forbid.” He smiled at her indulgently, dark eyes wandering over her face. “Hungry?”

“I ate a very big breakfast, in fact, the food was so delicious, I practically embarrassed myself.”

“I am happy your appetite is coming back.” Turning his head, he glanced at the famous building. “Strangely enough, I have been here several times, but it’s a landmark I have taken for granted.”

“When was the last time you came?”

He tried to remember. “I think it was sometime in January of last year. A group of friends came over from Wales and wanted to take some pictures and I accompanied them.”

She wanted to ask if some of those friends were females.

“Have you decided yet if you want to be my tutor?”

Turning his head, he studied her for a few seconds.

“Come va la tua giornata?”

She repeated the question, stumbling slightly over the proper pronunciation and made him smile. “Try it again and this time try rolling your tongue,” he suggested. She did and it sounded perfect.

“What does it mean?”

“How is your day.”

She repeated it several times until she could remember it.

“Sono Americana.”

“I think I know that one.” She repeated the phrase. “It means, I am American.”

“Excellent.” He said, pleased with her progress.

“Lei parla inglese?”

“Do you speak English?”

“Very good. Now repeat it.”

She did and her reward for a job well done was a beaming smile.

He introduced several other everyday phrases and very soon she was practicing them and getting his nod of approval.

“You are a natural.” He accelerated, much to her disappointment, indicating that they were ready to leave.

“I never asked.”

“Never asked what?”

“What type of work you do?”

He wondered if that was a trick question, and she had read up about him. “I play hard and party nonstop.” He told her grimly. “I am sure you will discover that for yourself soon enough.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” His head whipped around to stare at her.

“Why do you party so much?”

No one had ever asked him that before and he could not find an appropriate response. “I suppose because I can.”

“Are you happy?”

No one had ever asked him that before, not even his papa. And he resented her for being the first.

“What do you think?” He asked shortly.

“I think that you have a lot of money at your disposal, and you take life for granted.”

He stamped on the brake so suddenly; the vehicle was slow in gaining traction. They had arrived back at the house, the arched driveway, looming in front of them.

“Is that so?” His voice was menacingly soft, as he turned to look at her. “We met – what? A little more than a week ago and suddenly you think you know me?”

“Giorgio- “

“Why the hell wouldn’t I be happy?” He had not raised his voice, but it felt as if he had. Anger had brightened his dark eyes, reminding her of an obsidian glass she had seen somewhere.

“Are you?” She was determined not to be intimidated by him. She knew who he was of course, knew that he had been born with a gold spoon in his mouth. The home where he lived was the height of luxury.

She had not been given the tour, but she had seen enough of it to know that it was a veritable palace. And he was gorgeous, downright beautiful and women no doubt threw themselves at him.

Staring at her for a few pulsing seconds, he touched the button, and the engine sprang to life. Without a word, he drove into the cobbled driveway and stopped at the front door.

Muttering something in Italian, he shoved open the door and before he could open hers, the ever-present Aldo came hurrying down the steps. Giorgio said something to him in rapid Italian and had the man nodding.

Scooping her into his arms, he brushed past the man and bounded up the steps. Making his way along the passageway, he headed for the stairs.

“I would like to see the library,” she said tentatively. Without acknowledging her request, he made a sharp turn to the right and shoved open a pair of double doors.

Striding over to a comfortable wrap-around sofa in butter soft yellow, he deposited her gently against the cushions. “I will advise Aldo to bring in some refreshments. I will also alert the maid to bring your crutches.” He nodded towards the end table. “The internal phone is right there in case you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

With a curt nod, he turned and left the room, closing the doors behind him.

Leaning back against the cushions, she closed her eyes briefly. She had angered him with her thoughtless comment and questions. What on earth did it matter to her if he was happy? What business was it of hers?

She was merely a guest here, yes, he had been the one to cause the accident, but he had gone out of his way to make her comfortable and make certain she was well taken care of.

So, he did not work. But he never had to. He had more money than he could ever spend in this lifetime. So, what if he wanted to waste his life partying every single day? It was his choice and his life.

And she hated that he was upset with her. She had wanted to apologize and beg him to forgive. Her memory was not back, but she instinctually realized that she was a person who speaks her mind.

Shaking off the depression that was threatening, she gazed around the room in amazement. He had not exaggerated. The room was large enough to be a public library and had books lining the walls from floor to ceiling. Step ladders were everywhere, giving access to the titles several feet in the air.

A cozy antique table and chair were tucked beneath one of the windows that overlooked a stunning display of colorful flowers and trees waving in the breeze. There was also a gazebo right in the middle of all that wild beauty.

She couldn’t make her way outdoors yet but would love to explore the grounds. Turning her attention back to the lovely room, she eased off the sofa and hobbled over to the shelf titled fiction. Shaking off the unhappiness that cloaked her, she selected a title.

*****

Usually, remarks like that would just go over his head. Not that anyone had ever said anything like that to him before. He couldn’t understand why he was so angry and mortified by her question. He had seen the steady look on her face and felt as if he was a recalcitrant schoolboy being upbraided by the principal.

Striding into the conference room, he acknowledged the board members and took his seat at the other end of the table. It was a requirement for him to be present twice a month and his father insisted on it.

He had no idea what he contributed, but his presence was demanded, and he made sure he was here. Usually, he would while his time away by being on his phone, but today, he listened attentively.

He was the face of the company, a position that was ambiguous to say the least. He was the son of the CEO and heir apparent. He hoped that his father lived a long and fruitful life, so he would not have to take over the reins any time soon. He was certainly not ready.

His education was top notched. He spoke several languages and was well versed in the running of the company. He was the holder of two degrees, that he had never used. The men and women seated around the table respected him only because of who he was and nothing more.

He had never contributed anything and for the first time in his life, he felt worthless and useless. Damn her! Who the hell was she to question what he did with his life? He was Giorgio Russo and free to do whatever he bloody well pleased. But why did it suddenly feel so hollow?