Pnina Poésy ran a tight ship, and no one was more controlled by her than Scarlett. The idea of Scarlett in love, with someone like me, was a threat to her. She would’ve taken no issue with sending Scarlett to a foreign country, indefinitely, to separate us. I couldn’t risk it. Not at the time. Scarlett had been fragile, especially after Elliott’s death.
We had come to an agreement then. I’d wait until she was eighteen to approach her. After a short time together, we both agreed that her career would come first. As predicted, Scarlett had dived into us, ready to give it all up.
I refused to allow it.
To keep my own nature in check when it came to her, I had to cage myself in. And I had another reason. I had something to prove. Something I’d never done before. Falling in love with a woman who was too good for me meant that I needed to be a better man.
Satisfied that I had agreed with her, that Scarlett’s talent was too great to waste, Pnina kept quiet about us. But when the time came for Scarlett to leave, I had one demand: that Pnina hire someone to keep an eye on her, and I’d know all there was to know. Pnina had no issue with this either. It was another way for her to ensure that her daughter did as expected.
Here we were.
“I’ve kept it.”
“He hasn’t. He’s not answering my calls.”
She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “He’s not answering for me either. You’re here now and he knows it. His place has been cleared out.”
Pnina wouldn’t come out and say it; my last name had scared him off. Which meant that he hid something. One look at Nemours and I knew he was more than an average businessman. A monster recognizes another monster.
“If he happens to call,” I said with sarcasm. “Tell him he’s fired.” The least of his fucking worries.
I went to turn, but she grabbed me by the arm.
“We leave soon,” she said, baiting. “We’ll have to find someone new.”
“No,” I said, leaving it at that.
She stared at me, giving me a hard look from underneath the glasses, before she let go, shaking her head. A moment later, the hired car pulled into traffic.
I entered the Ducati store and found Mick sitting on a yellow-jacket-colored bike. Not even a minute in, a salesman approached, but after he caught the look on my face and my hard silence, he left without another word. I wasn’t the kind of man to be sold to. If I wanted it, I’d take it.
“Check this out, Brando.” Mick leaned forward, assuming the driving position. “Picture it. Cruising up and down the Amalfi Coast on this beauty.”
Taking the bike next to his, a matte black creature, I tested out the feel of it beneath my legs.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m picturing it.”
We both became quiet; he seemed to be lost to his own thoughts too.
“You know,” he said, breaking the silence after some time. “Violet cheated on me. Not long after we first started dating. She still loves him.”
I looked at him, but he only gave me his profile. Whatever he saw outside of the window was not the busy streets of Paris.
He squeezed the handlebars like he could rev them to life. “You know that old Percy Sledge song? The one about when a man loves a woman?”
“Yeah. Maggie Beautiful plays it.”
“Figured she would.” He smiled. “After Violet, I finally understood what Percy sang about. Love can turn even the most dangerous man into a fool.”
For the next few minutes, we both fiddled with the bikes, not adding anything else to the conversation. Then Mick cleared his throat.
“Scarlett loves you. Always has. She’s damn hardheaded. I’d say a challenge to life itself. I’ve dealt with her before. But easy is never really—fulfilling, is it? The challenge makes it worth it. We as men want to fight for what we know is ours. So.” He cleared his throat again. “Play the fool. Or you might end up losing to the real fool. Pride comes before the fall, buddy.”
Chapter Eleven
Brando
Mick and I sat on the sofa in the living room of the apartment, waiting in our tuxedos for Scarlett and Violet to finish getting ready for the evening.
