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He didn’t even look up. “Perseverance.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“There isn’t.”
“It’s not like I wouldn’t understand. I’m pretty smart and I really want this. Plus, it’s not like anything you’d say would shock me. I had a friend who was a foster child. And I also had some really crappy things happen to me at university.”
* * *
He knew she had. He remembered she’d been sued for slander. Even though the kid had dropped the suit, she’d probably been terrified.
He twirled his pencil between his fingers. He shouldn’t talk. He should keep everything between them strictly professional, but she’d opened the door and curiosity about that “something” about her wouldn’t allow him to let the opportunity to ask her a few questions pass. If she wanted to know his secrets, first she’d share hers. “I know about the lawsuit filed against you three years ago.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Like Constanzo, I go the extra mile with people who are going to know my business.”
She said nothing, but her face had gone pasty white.
“I understand the kid dropped the suit, but it would still be very difficult to be nineteen and have somebody sue you.”
She nodded.
“So what happened?”
“Happened?”
“No twenty-year-old boy files a slander law suit without good reason. So whatever you said, it had to have been a doozy.”
Her chin lifted. “I told the truth.”
“Then it couldn’t have been slander.”
“I couldn’t prove what I said.”
“Oh.” He caught Olivia’s gaze. “But it was true?”
She nodded.
“Which was probably why he dropped the suit. He didn’t want to risk that you’d find a way to prove it.”
“Oh, he knew I couldn’t.”
Curiosity spiked again, and he nearly kept going, so intrigued about her that the work in front of him had lost its appeal. But he suddenly realized he was comfortable, talking about personal things—the kind of things he never talked about with anybody, especially not an employee.
He’d already decided he didn’t want to be attracted to her, so what was he doing getting to know her?
“Why don’t you try to sleep while I do some work? This trip to Italy is going to cost me a hundred other things if I don’t get my ducks in a row now. So no more talking.”
“Okay.”
She turned around and he forced his attention back to work. Work had made him who he was today. He didn’t need conversation. He didn’t need family. He needed only to be the best he could be.
* * *
Tucker Engle’s plane landed at Constanzo Bartulocci’s private airstrip in the Italian countryside. A driver waited by a white limo and they headed for Constanzo’s villa.
Vivi stared out the window in awe. A sea of green grass flowed to mountains. The sky was the bluest blue she’d ever seen, hovering over the grassy slopes like a benevolent blue god. “This is gorgeous.”
Pulling a document from his briefcase, Tucker said, “Italy’s a beautiful country.”
She almost asked if he always worked but she knew the answer to that. Of course, he did. Now that he’d told her he’d been a foster child, so many things about him made sense. Just as she saw success as a way to vindicate herself, he probably saw it as a way to prove his value to a world that hadn’t wanted him. It was why he’d flown to Italy in a black suit, white dress shirt and black-and-silver striped tie, while she’d worn plain trousers and a yellow shirt. He never stopped. Never relaxed. Everything was work to him.
And she supposed she had her answer for how he’d climbed his way from foster child to billionaire. He worked all the time.
They arrived at Constanzo’s country villa and Vivi nearly broke her neck looking around, trying to see everything at once. Trees and shrubbery provided privacy. Lush green grass bordered stone walks that took them to the front door of a stone house that could have been hundreds of years old but had been updated.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Wearing dress pants and a short-sleeved shirt, open at the neck, Constanzo greeted them in the foyer. A colorful tile stairway with a black iron railing led to the second floor. Antique tables along the walls held vases of fresh flowers. Though the house was big, it wasn’t the stuffy mansion Vivi had expected a billionaire to live in. Beautiful and colorful, it was also homey.
Constanzo hugged Vivi then Tucker. “My staff is putting your things in your rooms. Would you like time to freshen up?”
Vivi yawned. “Actually, I’d like a nap. I couldn’t sleep on the plane.” Her brain had been so jumpy she hadn’t been able to relax. So she’d pulled her book out of her purse and read for most of the flight.
Constanzo laughed. “Vivi, Vivi. The best way to get accustomed to a new time zone is to pretend your body is already on our time.”
“I’ve been up twenty-four hours! I’ll never make it.”
Constanzo put his arm around her shoulder. “Of course, you will. It’ll be bedtime here before you know it.” He led her up the winding staircase. “Take a shower, put on fresh clothes. Something comfortable like jeans and I’ll show you around. We’ll go to a little café in town for lunch, then come back here for supper.”
“Or she could take a nap by the pool while you and I discuss business.”
In her tired state, she’d actually forgotten that Tucker was behind them. But she wasn’t surprised he wanted to talk details of their deal. He was here to work.
Constanzo laughed. “Before we discuss business, you have a mission.”
“Yes, but there are plenty of details we could—”
Constanzo made the “pfft” noise again. “We’ll get to the details after I show Vivi around.”
For the first time since she’d become Tucker’s right-hand girl, she got a tug of assistant responsibility. Now that she understood a little about him and his work ethic, she knew what she had to do. “Actually, I’d rather see the town on a day when I’m rested.” She smiled at her host. “Besides I have a feeling I could spend the day exploring your villa and the grounds.”
Constanzo waved his hand dramatically. “Then that’s what you’ll do.”
She laughed. Constanzo showed her to a little room decorated lavishly in shades of lavender and white. A June breeze fluttered the sheer white curtains, bringing with it the scent of fresh grass and wild flowers.
“This room is beautiful. Like art.”
“Life is art. It’s to be enjoyed.” Constanzo opened the door on a stunning bathroom with white marble tiles and showed her a closet where her clothes already hung.
“Your staff is fast!”
“They like their jobs and want to keep them.”
“So, Tucker and I will leave you to explore. If you need a swimsuit, dial five-one on the phone and explain what you want. We have plenty for guests. And my staff speaks English.”
She smiled her thanks and he and Tucker left.
She breathed in the scent of fresh air, something she hadn’t smelled since her last visit to Kentucky, and twirled around. She was in Italy! On the estate of a billionaire! She fought the urge to pinch herself and, instead, slipped out of her sandals.
The bed called to her but she agreed with Constanzo that the best way to adjust to her current time zone would be to eat, drink and sleep at the appropriate times. Which meant she had to entertain herself for the next few hours.
After a quick call to the staff, a maid brought her a raspberry-colored one-piece swimsuit in the size she requested. The tags had been trimmed, but she could tell the suit was new.
She showered, shimmied into the tight spandex suit, slid into the cover-up and big straw sunhat the staff had also provided, and grabbed her book before she made her way downstairs. To the right were closed double doors. A formal dining room, complete with crystal chandelier, sat on the left. A slim hall ran down the middle. She followed the corridor to a huge great room. Floral sofas flanked by crystal lamps dominated the room. Huge double doors provided a view of the pool, its blue water sparkling in the sun.
She walked through the double doors onto a gray stone patio to a row of canvas chaise lounges. Kicking off her shoes, she tossed her book to the chair so she could remove the white lace cover-up.
When she finally had herself settled on the chaise, the June sun warmed her and giddy peace filled her. She was in Italy. Italy. She’d ridden a private jet across the Atlantic, driven in a limo, been brought to a villa where maids unpacked her meager belongings and now she lounged by a pool.
* * *
After leaving Olivia in her room, Constanzo had shown Tucker to the lavish suite he would be using. He’d suggested Tucker might want a nap or maybe a few minutes to freshen up. But Tucker insisted they use the time to hash out some of the details of the conglomerate acquisition. So Constanzo had led him to a den at the back of the first floor.
A pool table sat in the center of the room. Four big-screen TVs, one for each wall, hung in strategic spots. A bar that looked like an old English pub took up the back corner.
Constanzo immediately strode to the bar. “So what’s your pleasure?”
“Details. You’re offering me a billion-dollar conglomerate. I’d think the first order of business would be to stipulate how we’ll determine market value.”
“No! No!” Constanzo laughed. “I meant your drink. You like American bottled beer or what I have on tap?”
Tucker held back a sigh of impatience and politely said, “I’ll try what you have on tap.”
Constanzo drew two drafts and handed one to Tucker.
“Thanks. So how are we going to determine market value?”
Constanzo pushed a button and a dartboard appeared. “We could use the numbers in my annual statement.”
“And disregard what’s happened since it was released? How do I know your companies haven’t gone down in value?”
He opened a carved box filled with darts that lined both the bottom of the box and its lid, and offered them to Tucker. “Because you’ve been watching me. You know exactly what I’m worth.”
Tucker chuckled. He took a dart, aimed at the board and made a bull’s-eye.
“Ah. A real challenge for me today!”
Tucker sighed. “You’re not going to talk business, are you?”
“No. You’re tired from your trip. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Right. Don’t try to kid somebody who makes his living knowing when people are lying to him.”
“All right. You want to be blunt. We will be blunt. If you can’t deliver my son to me, totally understanding my position—that his mother contacted me once, on a busy day, when I was so overwhelmed I barely registered what she said, let alone had brain power to believe it—then you don’t get my company.”
“So there’s no point in talking specifics?”
“Exactly.” As he spoke, Constanzo opened the drapes of the den, revealing his shimmering pool. The gray stone outdoor space had furniture groupings that ran the gamut from formal seating areas to casual placement of chaise lounges around the pool.
And on one of the chaise lounges lay a pale woman in a one-piece, pinkish-purple bathing suit. A lock of strawberry blonde hair blew in the slight breeze.
Olivia. Vivi. Casual, happy, like-me-as-I-am Vivi. The woman who’d actually drawn him into a personal conversation the night before.
“I worry she’ll fall asleep in the sun.”
Tucker took a swig of beer. “If she does, she’d better have sunblock.”
“She is pale.”
She was pale. Trusting. And he’d finally realized that was the thing that drew him about her, even as it annoyed the hell out of him. She wanted to understand, asked a million questions, because she wanted to trust life.
Trust life. As if one could.
He took in her smooth shoulders, her trim tummy. Even being exactly the opposite of what he liked in a woman, she tempted him.
Which was ridiculous. He liked sleek, sophisticates. Not hometown girls.
She shifted on the chaise, onto her side. The hat slid over her face, but the position pushed her breasts precariously high in the brightly colored suit. Her long legs stretched out, bared to him on sand-colored canvas. All right. She was sexy. She might not be sleek or sophisticated, but she was definitely sexy.
“Vivi...she is more than your assistant?”
Tucker swung around. Good God. Now the woman had him staring. “No.” He walked over to the bar and grabbed three darts. “I told you, she’s really not even my assistant. Betsy, the accountant who generally works with me was in an accident. Vivi—” Oh, Lord. Had he just used her nickname? “Is a temp.”
He laughed. “I see.”
“She probably won’t be with me the next time we meet. But you’ll like Betsy. She’s incredibly competent.”
And he was counting the days until she finished rehab and returned to the office. He didn’t want a sexy assistant. He didn’t want to wonder about the slander suit filed against her. He wanted Betsy back so his life could return to normal.
Still, every time Constanzo took his turn at the dart board, Tucker’s gaze drifted out to the pool.
* * *
“Drink, Miss?”
The white-coated butler scared Vivi awake and she jumped. She shouldn’t be surprised that she’d drifted off to sleep since she hadn’t even had so much as a nap on the plane. But she didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to adjust to her new time zone.
“Sorry for jumping.”
