I finished my wine and checked the time on my Rolex. I had less than an hour to get home before my cleaning ladies left, and I wanted to give them their tip. No matter what my mood was, I was always generous to those who served me well. Cyndee and Celine were exceptional, just like Juan, the doorman. It was the everyday person who made my life easier and often better. They deserved to be properly rewarded for their hard work.
“Would you like another, Mr. Ferrari?” The cute blonde gazed at me with a wanting in her blue eyes. As most women looked at me, but I could think of one who never appeared interested in me.
“No.” I placed a twenty on the table. “Tell my brother to kiss my ass.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” Fear flashed in her eyes.
“Tell him yourself.” Remo sat across from me. “Bring us a bottle of my favorite,” he told the server.
“I won’t be staying long enough to share a bottle with you.”
“That’s fine. But I plan to be here for an hour. Then I need to pick up the kids from church. That’s where I was, at church. Dropping my girls off for their choir practice.”
His twins were Amara and Allegra. They were eight years old. Both were beautiful and sweet. Unfortunately, they were girls and no use to my brother.
“And where is their mother? Shouldn’t she be carting the girls to their activities?” Honestly, it seemed Remo was doing everything these days, while his wife lived her best life without her husband and daughters.
“She had a doctor’s appointment.”
“Is everything okay?” I sat taller in my seat. Maybe he was going to tell me they were having a baby, and it was a boy, and they’d make the announcement at Christmas. My parents would be thrilled.
So far, not one of my older brothers had produced an heir to carry on the Ferrari legacy for when the rest of us were gone. Mind you, I was thirty-three and had no plans to die anytime soon. But like Hugo, Elio, and Andrea, I was single and without a male offspring.
Fiero, the second oldest, had a son. But Bowie was illegitimate, and not full Italian. His baby momma and son lived in Southern California, while Fiero was glued to my father’s side, like a disobedient child, in Vancouver. That was by design after my brother fucked up.
“Anna is fine. Just following up on her nose job.” Remo checked his phone.
The blonde server appeared with the bottle of wine and two glasses. She quietly poured. My brother didn’t even acknowledge her.
“Thank you,” I said.
She nodded and left.
“I’d forgotten she had some cosmetic work done. I thought you were going to tell me she was pregnant.”
Remo’s dark eyes shot to mine. “I wish. But you’d have to have sex to make a baby.”
Oh shit. I didn’t want to go there. “Then why did you want to meet?”
“I need you to take the pressure off me.”
“What are you talking about?” God only knew what kind ofpressuremy brother would put on me, just to save his neck.
As the youngest son, I supposedly had it easy. It wasn’t true. My father texted me multiple times a month to find out if I had anyone special in my life. Obviously, a man in his prime had relations. I wasn’t a priest or celibate. But having someone special in my life would come with a lot of expectations from my family. So, I kept things very casual with women.
“Are you dating anyone?” my brother asked.
“No.”
“Why not? You’re the most eligible bachelor in San Francisco. You should have zero probably finding a woman.”
“You’re correct. I don’t have problems finding an outlet. But I’m not ready to settle down.” I drank my wine and checked the time, again.
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” Remo gulped his wine, then refilled his glass. “If you don’t step up and get serious with someone, I can’t move you up in the business.”
