Seduced By The Tycoon At Christmas

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“But you don’t have enough money saved up yet to rent a space,” she reminded him, recalling the conversation they had weeks earlier about his long-term goals.

“I know, but I’m sick of twiddling my thumbs. I’m just as talented as Aurora, and if I work my ass off, Designs by Jiovanni will be a household name in no time.”

“I believe in you, J. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

Seizing Zoe’s hand, Jiovanni pulled her into his arms and held her close to his chest. He danced around the room, expertly dodging the furniture, then lifted her up in the air. “Jiovanni, stop!” she yelled, scared he’d lose his footing and drop her on the carpet. She’d taken two Asprin at lunch, and her ankle wasn’t hurting her anymore, but she didn’t want to do anything to aggravate it. “What are you doing? This isn’t Milan Dance Championship and you’re not a professional dancer, so put me down right now.”

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” he repeated, flashing a toothy smile. “I’m dancing with the most beautiful woman in Milan, and it’s the best feeling in the world.”

Zoe sighed in relief when her feet touched the ground. She swatted his shoulder. “Don’t do that again. I almost had a heart attack when you picked me up, and I’m only thirty-two!”

“Quit playing. You know you loved it.” Lowering his face to hers, he kissed her forehead. “I love holding you in my arms, Zoe. You know that.”

His fingers grazed her forearm. He was too close for comfort, moving nearer to her, and Zoe feared he was going to do something crazy like kiss her. That would ruin everything. They were friends and nothing more. She didn’t want a romantic relationship with Jiovanni. Not today, not ever. Feeling trapped, she ducked under his arms and slid behind one of the chairs.

Her computer pinged, informing her that she had a new email message, and Zoe returned to her desk. These days Jiovanni was more flirtatious than ever, and she wondered if it had anything to do with his longtime girlfriend dumping him weeks earlier. To cheer him up she’d brought him home-cooked meals, wine and an armload of action movies.

“You and I make a great couple.”

His gaze bore down on her, and a lascivious grin spread across his mouth.

“Everyone thinks so, even my nonna, and she’s never liked any of my girlfriends.”

To lighten the mood, Zoe cracked a joke.

“I’d never dream of arguing with your dear, sweet nonna,” she said, making her eyes wide. “But the next time you want to re-create something you saw on your favorite dance show, find another partner, because I prefer having my feet on the ground, not suspended in midair.”

Jiovanni stuck out his tongue and Zoe laughed. She could never stay mad at him; he made life fun, and she enjoyed his company so much they spent most of their free time together, much to his nonna’s delight.

“You know what they say about male fashion designers, don’t you?”

Zoe wore a blank expression on her face. “No. What?”

“They’re the world’s best lovers.”

“According to who? You and the womanizers in your bad-boy posse?”

“My posse? Can’t say I’ve ever heard that expression before,” he said with a hearty laugh. “You kill me, you know that? I just love your sass and wit.”

“Good, so you won’t mind when I ask you to leave.”

“So, that’s how it is? I bring you wine, and you show your appreciation by kicking me out. That’s cold. What’s up with that? I thought you were my girl?”

“I am, but you have to go. You’re distracting me, and I have tons of work to do.” Zoe accessed her email account from her computer and read her newest message. “I have to finish planning the Men of Milan calendar, but we’ll meet up later at the premiere. I’ll save you a seat.”

“No, don’t. I have plans tonight, and they don’t involve Casa Di Moda.”

“You’re not going to the movie? Why not? Aurora’s expecting everyone to be there.”

“She doesn’t run my life, and there’s no way in hell I’m canceling my date.”

“But the after-party’s at Milano Cocktail Bar, your favorite spot in the city.”

“Like I said, I have other plans.” Jiovanni took his cell phone out of his pocket and swiped his finger across the screen. “I met a woman last night at the Blue Note jazz bar, and I’m taking her to the new French restaurant in the Bicocca.”

As Zoe listened to Jiovanni boast about his flavor of the week, her gaze fell across the web page on her computer, and she clicked it. An image of Romeo Morretti filled her screen. At lunch, as she’d sat at her desk eating the steak panini she’d ordered from a nearby deli, she’d read several articles about him, and even watched a documentary about his family. The Morretti family was an accomplished, successful bunch who donated their time, money and resources to worthy causes. But it seemed the more money Romeo made, the more ostentatious he was. Sure, he gave generously to charity organizations, but former employees painted him in a bad light.

And they weren’t the only ones.

The interview his ex-fiancée had given to the tabloids was so outrageous, Zoe had abandoned her lunch and soaked up every juicy word. There were thousands of pictures of him online with his billionaire clients, supermodel dates and equally attractive family members. To her surprise, Romeo traveled more than a flight attendant. He was in Spain when his brother Emilio won his fifth Formula One championship, on hand when his cousin Demetri smashed another baseball record in the Windy City, at the opening of Dolce Vita Dubai to support his cousin Nicco, and the dutiful best man at his brother Markos’s glamorous, over-the-top wedding in LA.

Zoe wet her lips with her tongue. Staring at the images of Romeo, she decided the photographs didn’t do him justice. They failed to capture his energy, his zest for life. Truth be told, she was intrigued by him. He was such a force, so charismatic, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. No surprise. Like every other woman in the city, she was attracted to his dashing good looks. Not that it mattered. Nothing would come of it. They didn’t travel in the same social circles, and Zoe had a better chance of winning Milan Idol than making a love connection with one of the richest men in the country.

“Before I go, I want you to check out these outfits I designed specifically for you.” Jiovanni grabbed the garment bag off the chair, unzipped it and marched around the desk. His confidence was evident in his broad I’m-the-man grin. “Mi amore, prepare to be blown away...”

Finding clothes that fit her hourglass figure in local stores was impossible, but Zoe could always count on Jiovanni to hook her up. Raised by a single mother and three older sisters, he understood women and appreciated the female body. From the moment Aurora had introduced them they’d clicked, and when his mother died unexpectedly last summer they’d grown even closer. He’d said she was his rock, the only person he trusted explicitly. His words had touched her heart. They’d never be lovers, but they’d be friends for life.

“What do you think? Did I hit it out of the park, or completely miss the mark?”

Zoe admired the outfits. Each one was impressive, and she couldn’t decide which one she liked best—the beaded dress with the plunging neckline; the one-shoulder gown with the frilly red bow, or the navy pantsuit with the floral-print design along the waist. Overcome with emotion, Zoe gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Jiovanni. I love all of them, and I’m honored to wear your amazing designs.”

Dropping into a chair, he clasped his hands behind his head and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Prove it. Try them on, mi amore. Go ahead. Give me a show.”

“With pleasure.” Zoe grabbed the garment bag, draped it over her forearm and entered the bathroom. Much to Jiovanni’s delight, she modeled each outfit, but when she sashayed out of the bathroom in the navy pantsuit, he cheered.

“That’s it,” he said, jumping to his feet. “That’s what you should wear tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s not too sexy?” Zoe adjusted her cleavage.

“You have a great body and beautiful décolletage, so flaunt it.” Jiovanni wore a proud smile. “I love to see you in my clothes. You make them come alive.”

To complete her look, Zoe opened the closet and searched through her wooden jewelry box for the right accessories. Zoe often went straight from work to industry functions, and had everything she needed at her disposal. Taking Jiovanni’s advice, she selected teardrop earrings and a rhinestone necklace and bracelet. As she did her hair and makeup, he snapped pictures of her with his cell phone. With billions of people on social media every day, Zoe knew how important it was to give fans an intimate, behind-the-scenes look at Casa Di Moda and encouraged him to upload the images immediately.

“You look incredible,” Jiovanni praised. “All eyes will be on you at the premiere.”

Putting on her stilettos, Zoe admired her appearance in the full-length mirror beside the bookshelf. She felt sophisticated in her chic ensemble, and Zoe was so anxious to hit the red carpet at Anteo spazioCinema, she decided to call it a day. The premiere didn’t start for another three hours, but she wanted to get there early to live-stream interviews with the cast. As publicity director it was her job to promote Casa Di Moda, and she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to rub shoulders with A-list celebrities, entertainment reporters and TV personalities.

Her desk phone buzzed, and the receptionist’s voice filled the office.

“Hi, Zoe, sorry to bother you, but I need you at reception. You have a visitor.”

Jiovanni rose to his feet. “Duty calls, huh?”

“Hopefully it’s the blogger I spoke to yesterday,” Zoe said, logging off her computer. “I want her to do a piece on Casa Di Moda and invited her to come by today for a tour.”

Zoe grabbed her purse, turned off the lights and waved goodbye to Jiovanni. Hustling toward the reception area, she mentally rehearsed what she was going to say to the popular fashion blogger. Zoe hoped the online article would help boost sales, because just the thought of losing the best job she’d ever had made sadness fill her heart.

Chapter 5 (#u3a8faa2f-889a-5b5c-b3dd-a57ec00d2f45)

The Casa Di Moda reception area was noisier than a train station, and the scent of coffee and expensive perfume wafted through the air. Telephones buzzed and staff members chatted in the hallway. Deliverymen shuffled in and out, carrying oversize boxes and packages.

As Zoe reached the entrance, she noticed a gift bag, a flower bouquet on top of the U-shaped desk and a mountain bike with a gigantic red bow propped against the far wall.

“Great, you’re here,” the receptionist said brightly, gesturing to the items with a nod of her head. “These things are for you. Do you want me to help you carry them to your office?”

“They are? But I didn’t order anything online. Where did they come from?”

A slim man with a thick mustache appeared at Zoe’s side and bowed in greeting. “Ms. Smith, these gifts are from Mr. Romeo Morretti. His sincere hope is that everything is to your liking.”

Stunned, all Zoe could do was nod in response. Peeking inside the bag, she pushed aside the tissue paper. Her eyes wide with disbelief, she admired each item—the crocodile leather, Chanel handbag with the shiny diamond clasp, the floral-print dress almost identical to the one she was wearing that morning, and a Samsung cell phone and tablet. Why would Romeo do this? I caused the accident, not him, so why did he buy me thousands of dollars’ worth of gifts? Her head was spinning as she struggled to understand what the gentleman was saying.

“Mr. Morretti wishes to extend his deepest apologies for the incident that happened this morning, and hopes that you will accept these presents as a sign of his deep remorse.”

“What incident?”

Aurora appeared at the reception desk with Davide at her side. The couple wore designer outfits and sidled up beside her, asking a million questions.

“What’s this about?” Aurora asked, flinging her cashmere shawl over her slender shoulders. “What happened between you and Romeo Morretti this morning?”

Zoe hadn’t planned to tell anyone about her ill-fated run-in with the business tycoon, not even her family. Images of her parents, Reuben and Collette Smith, and younger sister, Shelby, popped into her mind. Her mom and dad were happily retired from their jobs, and her twenty-six-year-old sister was a graduate student. During the staff meeting, Aurora had made it clear there wasn’t enough money for a Christmas bonus. Without it, Zoe wouldn’t be able to go home for the holidays and didn’t know how she was going to break the news to her family.

As Aurora questioned her about Romeo Morretti, Zoe’s thoughts wandered. In September, she’d returned home to celebrate her parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, but three days after arriving in Long Island she’d wanted to cut her one-month vacation short. Had actually considered returning to Milan to attend Fashion Week instead. Zoe couldn’t go anywhere without her ex-boyfriend, Khalil Tisdale, nipping at her heels. Worse still, her mother adored him and his parents, and invited them over for dinner every evening. It didn’t matter how many times she told Khalil that they were over, he wouldn’t let her be. He was a successful orthodontist with a thriving medical practice. But he called her several times a day, showed up at her parents’ house unannounced and wrote her love letters. They were over, and nothing he said or did would ever change that; still he pursued her relentlessly.

Fond memories filled her heart when she thought about her first love. Zoe was proud of Khalil and everything he’d accomplished, but she had no desire to rekindle their romance. All her life, she’d longed to travel abroad and experience different cultures and she’d refused to let anyone—not even her college sweetheart—stand in the way of her dreams.

“Earth to Zoe.” Aurora waved her bejeweled hands in the air. “Tell us what’s going on. We’re dying to know about your run-in with Romeo Morretti.”

Feeling trapped, she reluctantly told the couple about the accident, but left out the part about Romeo’s dinner invitation. The less they knew about her interaction with the financier, the better. Aurora was obsessed with the rich and famous, and Zoe didn’t want her boss to get the wrong idea about her and Romeo. “Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt,” she said with a sad smile. “My bike was totaled, but that was the worst of it.”

Aurora gasped. “Good God, Zoe, how terrible! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It sounds worse than it was. I’m fine.”

“Grazie a Dio!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe you were in a car accident this morning, but still came to work. You should have gone to the hospital to get checked out.”

Zoe shook her head. “No way. I’m a New Yorker. I’m strong and resilient.”

“Thank God you’re okay. I don’t know what we’d do if anything ever happened to you,” Davide said in a solemn tone of voice. “You’re an important part of the Casa Di Moda family. We don’t want to lose you.”

“I second that.” Nodding, Aurora gave Zoe a one-arm hug. “You’re the hardest-working employee we have, you’ve established a strong online presence for the company, and you’ve made the brand cool among millennials. We’re fortunate to have you on board, Zoe.”

Zoe was embarrassed by the couple’s effusive praise and wished they’d stop showering her with compliments. The receptionist was listening in, and she was afraid the loquacious single mom would gossip to the rest of the staff about what Aurora and Davide had said. That would be a disaster. Jiovanni and the other associate designers were already upset, and Zoe didn’t want them to feel worse.

“Now, back to you and Romeo Morretti.” Aurora linked arms with Zoe and dropped her voice to a whisper. “What’s he like? Does he smell good? What was he wearing this morning? Armani or Kenneth Cole?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” she stammered. “We only talked for a few minutes.”

“Ms. Smith, Mr. Morretti wanted you to have this.”

The gentleman reached into his jacket pocket, took out an envelope and offered it to Zoe, but Aurora plucked it out of her hand.

“I’ll read it to you. You’ve had a stressful day, and I don’t want anything to upset you.”

Before Zoe could protest, Aurora ripped the envelope, took out the card and shrieked in a high-pitched voice in Italian about Zoe being rich.

I’m rich? What is she talking about? Zoe thought, bewildered by her boss’s odd behavior.

Aurora was gesturing wildly with her hands, speaking so fast in Italian Zoe didn’t understand a word she was saying. “What is it? Why are you screaming? What does the card say?”

Everyone in the reception area was watching them, and the gentleman’s face was red.

“You struck pay dirt! Literally. Romeo Morretti just financed your future!”

What? Perplexed, she shook her head. Prying the envelope out of her boss’s hands, Zoe realized the piece of paper she’d been waving around was a bank draft, and stared at the check. Zoe choked on her tongue. Rubbing her eyes, she counted the number of zeroes—twice—to make sure she hadn’t made a mistake. A hundred thousand euros? What for?

“I have to return this. I can’t keep it.” Zoe glanced around, searching the reception area for Romeo Morretti’s employee, but he was gone. Unsure of where Morretti Investments was, Zoe asked the receptionist to find the address online and waited patiently for her to locate it.

Drumming her fingernails on the desk, Zoe imagined what would happen when she saw Romeo again. Would she be calm and composed this time, or a tongue-tied fool? It was hard not to get flustered when he stared at her. His gaze was unnerving and intense, and his boyish smile could melt the ice around any woman’s heart.

“Keep the gifts and the check. You earned it.”

Earned it? It was an accident, not a setup! Again, Zoe was bewildered by Aurora’s words. Surely she didn’t mean it. Furthermore, what kind of person would Zoe be if she took the money? She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she did; guilt would eat her alive.

“Romeo Morretti struck you with his car, and you deserve to be adequately compensated,” Aurora continued in a haughty tone of voice. “To be honest, a hundred thousand euros isn’t enough money for your terrible pain and suffering.”

Zoe frowned. What pain and suffering? I’m fine!

“I second that,” Davide agreed. “Call Romeo Morretti and demand ten million euros.”

“No way! That’s crazy. I could never do that.”

“If he refuses to pay, take him to court.” Dollar signs flashed in Aurora’s hazel eyes, and a smirk curled her lips. “You’ll definitely win, and when you do, you can use your settlement money to invest in Casa Di Moda. It’s a win-win for everyone!”

In businessman mode, Davide confided in Zoe about his meeting with bank officials yesterday, and the stress he was under to find new investors. Listening to him, Zoe was convinced that Aurora was making a mistake about the plus-size line. If they launched the line, and it did well, investors would come running. It wasn’t the time or the place to broach the subject, but she decided to speak to her boss again tomorrow in private.

“Rosannah, can you do me a favor and put these things in my office before you leave?”