Page 72 of Nobody's Girl

In the silence, Sofia and Ivo stared at each other. “What the hell was that?”

Ivo shook his head. “I don’t know, baby. I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything about Tamara, about her mother. What was I thinking? It’s just…more and more I feel close to Penn – as family, I mean, darling,” she said hurriedly, but Ivo smiled.

“I know that, sweetheart. I hope Penn’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around Sofia and kissed her forehead. “And somehow, I don’t think this is anything to do with what you said – not directly. Something else is up. I’ll call him later.” He tightened his arms around her. “Try not to let it bother you. Shall we finish the painting?”

Sofia nodded and they cleared their supper things away and finished the painting, moving around each other quietly. When they had done, Ivo smiled at her. “Now we only have the bedroom to think about.”

Sofia, still deep in thought, nodded. “I’ll make up some more mood boards.”

“I think you like doing that more than that actual painting,” he teased. He snagged them a couple more beers from the fridge and taking her hand, led her out to the balcony. The sun was setting over the city and the streetlamps were coming on. Sofia took a slug of beer and felt the tension in her body fall away.

“I’ll never get over just how lucky I am. You, this place, this city…How did I get so lucky?”

Ivo leaned over to kiss her. “It wasn’t luck. You deserve the world.”

Sofia kissed him back, but her eyes remained troubled. “Do I? Really, what have I done that I deserve the world? Not much, Ivo, but I intend to change that.”

Ivo frowned. “Sweetheart, you are kind, sweet, intelligent and caring. You care about other people, you help other people. Why are you so down on yourself?”

She smiled ruefully. “I’m not, but I still think I could do more. I swore blind, I wouldn’t be a kept woman, but here I am, working on canvases part-time to show in your friend’s galleries and don’t think I’m not grateful but…”

“I do understand, Piccolo. You want to forge your own path and you will. But don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, either. If your paintings were trash, no amount of influence from me would get you exhibited. None. You’re twenty-one, Sofia, there’s plenty of time.” He rested his head on her shoulder and gave her his best puppy-eyes. Sofia giggled.

“I love you, crazy man.”

“I love you too, funny face. Now, when we bought this place, I seem to remember we had plans to make love on this balcony…I say we keep that promise right now…”

He kissed her, pushing her onto her back and Sofia started to giggle as he unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down her legs. “You’re insatiable, Zacca.”

He grinned up at her as he moved down her body. “I have good reason.” And he buried his face between her legs.

Tamara was laying on the chaise-longue in her office, sated from an afternoon of fucking. A couple of good-looking twins had ventured into the club at lunchtime, and she wasted no time inviting them back to her office. As they fucked her, she imagined herself as Sofia, being fucked by both Penn and Ivo Zacca, and it was surprising turn-on. The beautiful boys had left now, promising to return but Tamara couldn’t have cared less. She knew now that this was the way to go – no commitment, no feelings. Just sex.

Her cell phone rang and she snorted as she saw who was calling. “Penn Black, as I live and breathe.”

There was a slight hesitation. “Tamara, I’m flying back to New York. I need to see you.”

Tamara rolled onto her front. “Do you?”

He gave her an address. “My flight gets in just after midnight. Meet me there. Please.”

“Fine.” She couldn’t resist the chance to taunt him about Sofia one last time.

A few hours later, she pulled up in her car at the cabin out in the woods. Penn had spoken of this place, somewhere he and his sister had come to chill out away from work. She knocked at the door.

Penn opened it, unsmiling and stepped back to let her in. The place was covered in plastic dust sheets. Tamara smiled at Penn, leaning forward to kiss him.

He stepped away from her and sat down. Tamara frowned. What the hell was going on?

“How was Paris?”

“Enlightening.” Monotoned.