The Italian Heir-CASTELLANO SERIES: MARTIN’S STORY

9

As promised, I showed up at the restaurant where Steve had a reservation made this morning and by the time I got there, I had already forgotten her name. Damn it. Instinctively, I reached for my phone in the pocket of my slack, ready to text Steve and ask him about what was it again (although knowing very well he’d cuss me out), there she was—seated at a secluded corner of the restaurant looking at a faraway window with one hand resting on top of her left arm.

She was beautiful, alright, that, I had to give it to Steve—long auburn hair, red lips and a black wrap-around dress that hugged her figure. When the woman looked up, she looked surprised, as if expecting I wasn’t going to show up given my reputation of being constantly buried nose deep in work or, I simply didn’t have the time to date.

She gave me a little wave, I can safely say she knew who I was immediately and here I stood trying to c***k my skull, remembering her name. I swear, at that moment I could imagine Erika saying to me— ‘You memorised every single lingerie colour your ex owns and the favourite alcoholic drinks of all the people in your business circle yet you can’t even remember a woman’s name?’

Okay, maybe the underwear part was a little too far-fetched.

Wait, why was I even thinking of Erika even right now?

In that moment, it almost felt wrong. I had a nagging feeling at the back of my mind, it was as if I was seeing this beautiful woman behind someone’s back, someone I cared a great deal about.

It felt almost…uneasy.

It was still a distance before I’d reached the table and my phone vibrated in my pants pocket. I didn’t reach for it.

But for some reason I just knew—if I had read that text, I’d chicken out and walk back to where I came from.

“Hi.” She breathed. “You must be Martin.”

Please tell me your name, please tell me your name…

“Good evening, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” I apologised while a seat was pulled out for me. I thanked the waiter who did so. “On the contrary, no. You’re right on the dot.” The woman smiled breezily.

“You looked surprised earlier when I walked in.” I casually asked.

“Oh, that.” She laughed it off casually. “I was warned by Rhea actually, if you don’t show up I shouldn’t be too disappointed. She says you’re a busy man whose time is of essence.”

I wonder what else Rhea said to her. “Ah well, it’s an old habit I’m trying to work on.”

“It’s fine, really. I understand. Would you tell me a little about yourself then?”

Perhaps she… has never read about me? I was never good at introducing myself other than speaking about my job and what I do.

Erika was right, I don’t have a social life interesting enough to talk about. I don’t have a hobby, as I don’t have too much time doing something that would take my mind off work, I don’t have a favourite coffee place, no particular favourite TV show…god, was I that boring?

At that moment, I swear I could hear Erika’s annoyed voice in my head once again telling me to get over myself. And in her famous words to me—‘you pompous airhead’

“Martin?” The woman who sat opposite called my name.

“I’m sorry.” I tried my best polite voice. I wanted to say sometimes I let my mind wander but I decided against it. Five minutes into the conversation and I felt like I was being the world’s biggest dickhead already. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself instead?

Let’s not make this dinner just about me.” I suggested, in a weak attempt to avoid talking about myself just yet, until I found something I deemed interesting enough. The young waitress who was filling my glass with water openly gawked at me while she passed us two menus. Her eyes twinkled—that pretty much told me she recognised me.

The conversation that followed after was pretty interesting. This woman could multi-task. She was telling me a little about herself—she grew up in Texas, then she moved to Japan for a little bit and then eventually back to Texas once again when her parents decided they’d settle for good. She knew how to speak at least three different languages—Japanese, Russian and Mandarin; her favourite sport was archery and she had two other younger siblings and a pet corgi.

Now, of course, that was not all she told me about. She went on to tell me about her courses (which I swear I forgot that she was still a student) and she apparently was really good at a game of chess. Twenty-five minutes and three bites later of our food, she asked,

“You’ve not once said my name, even once in the last twenty-five minutes. Could it be that you’ve actually forgotten it already?”

“Would you kill me if I told you the truth?”

“I might not if you took me on a second date.” She said without thinking twice.

I choked discreetly on my wine at the mention of a second date. Do I have a policy or anything against second dates? No. But is this the first time hearing a woman ask me this question so boldly? Yes.

She then told me her name and I had myself repeat it three times in my head.

“Steve did mention you were here for a short holiday, are you sure you’d want to spend a quarter of your holiday trip with a man you just met?” I asked, scoffing lightly as I smiled, hoping she’d reconsider what she had just suggested. “If I enjoy his company, there’s no reason as to why I shouldn’t.”

“Well then, I don’t see why not?”

I took her back to her hotel after dinner and dessert that night, before I sped away from the front entrance of the Grand Hyatt, I remembered the text message that I got earlier when I arrived at the restaurant and another while Zara and I were eating.

The text was from Erika.

‘Good luck on your date! Don’t be a prick! Hey, do you think Lucien could join us for dinner?’

And the second one read.

‘Since you didn’t reply (assuming you’ve not gotten walked out on yet), I just think it’ll be nice to have Lucien over for a meal, since he’s literally here in New York all on his own. I don’t think Marco and Ana would mind, would they?’

And for some reason I did not like what I was reading one bit. Not because I didn’t like the idea of Erika being hospitable to a man she hardly knew, I just didn’t like the idea of him being introduced to the family, because trust me, when I say when a girl brings you home, you’re gonna wanna think there’s more to where that came from later. Not immediately, of course, but gradually.

Did I already dislike Lucien? Well no. But will I soon? Most probably, yes, yes that might just happen.

“Mom, dad.” I greeted.

“We weren’t expecting you darling, we were just about to have dessert. Would you like some?” mom looked up, smacking my father in the process when he was disturbing her while she was doing the dishes. Erika and Lucien were nowhere to be seen.

“Erika and that French boy are here too, Damien, is it?” Dad asked, frowning.

“For the third time, husband, it’s Lucien. Did you see that poor boy’s face when you kept calling him—“

“I’ll be outside mom.” I said quickly and excused myself from the kitchen. On my way out, Uncle Marco was playing hoops with my brothers and Erika. I greeted him and my brother—Alexander pointed towards the pool as if he knew what I was about to ask. “Is that Damien guy her new boyfriend?”

Well, guess I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I couldn’t understand his English very well yet.

“I certainly hope not and his name isn’t Damien.”

“Really? Because I had a hard time understanding what he was trying to say word for word at the dinner table, imagine when he does his vows at their wedding.” Alex shuddered then got yelled at by Elijah to pass the ball to him. “Pay attention dude!” Elijah had his hands raised.

“No one is getting married anytime soon.” I motioned him to go back to his game and made my way to the pool. The two of them were seated in the lounge area by the pool and Victoria was with them, talking. She was the first to notice me walking in. Then, Erika looked up. “Hey!” she chirped. “Back from your date already?”

“How long is one supposed to last?” I asked, removing my coat and dropping it on the backrest when I took a seat on the arm rest of the couch Victoria was seated on. I gave her a quick peck on top of her head and she looked up at me expectantly. “Was she pretty?” my sister asked. I gave her a menial smile.

“I don’t know? I mean, you’re meeting her for the first time. Shouldn’t you take more time to get to know one another?” Erika explained, but my eyes were trained on Lucien instead of who was looking at everywhere else except me. It’s not that great of a sight to see your boss outside of work anyway, especially when you’re in your boss’s home.

“I didn’t feel obligated to do so,” I said, without giving her suggestion much thought.

“Your high expectations will eventually kill you Marts, aside from being a dickhead, of course.” She pressed her lips into a thin line at which Lucien broke into a grin.

“Can we perhaps not discuss my love life and talk about something else instead?” I rose from my makeshift seat and stared pointedly at Erika. “May I have a quick word with you? Please?”

Erika pushed herself off her seat, telling Lucien she’d be right back, but before she could get her answer, I sighed irritably before grabbing her wrist in mine and pulling her away. We were a good chunk of distance away from Lucien and my sister and were now far out on the lawn and standing in between some large trees hidden from the sight of the rest. Not too far away from us was my mother’s flower bed—a mixture of weird flowers my dad had planted for her.

“E, what were you thinking when you brought Lucien over?” I asked. “I texted you about it, didn’t I? He came here alone to New York and I just thought it’d be nice to bring him to dinner.” She explained innocently.

“Oh Erika, he’s only been here like what? A month? Give him some time. I’m sure he’d get to know other people as well. And dinner? Really? You don’t just bring random men over for dinner when my family and relatives are around.”

She raised her brows and folded her arms, looking at me in disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that, weren’t you the one who said he’s an exceptionally bright student that even Professor Rockwell didn’t say no to the Dean and allowed him to join his class in the middle of a semester? I’m sure he’s more than capable of navigating through campus grounds and a city to find friends of his own.”

“Oh, why do you even care what I do with my friends? I don’t interfere with the things you do in regards to your social life. Why are you being so tactless all of a sudden?” she huffed, taking a step back from me.

I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out. “Seriously marts, you’ve never been one to bother much about who I’m around with or who I date, which is close to no one, because you keep scaring any and every boy that approaches me but you’re not going to do that to Lucien!”

“I said there will be no dating amongst co-workers, no under my watch you’re not.” I scowled, feeling my jaw tightened as my teeth clenched. “You’re not the boss of me Castellano.” She stuck out her chin defiantly, glaring hard at me. “You don’t get to tell me what I can or cannot do.” I took a step forward and easily towered over her.

“Oh tesoro, technically I am your boss for now. You want to work in my office, you abide by my rules and everything I tell you and want you to do. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Fine, but that will make me untouchable when it's out-of-office hours, so then, you don’t or won’t have a say in who I go out with and that includes John!” She was nettled, that I could tell. She started to walk away, three, four steps…I caught up with her in just two large strides, grabbed her wrist and spun her around as if we were in the middle of a waltz.

I want to say the next move I made was all planned, or that I had at least thought about it (maybe once or twice) but I never thought I’d actually do it or have the guts to do it. But when I experienced it, surely it felt much more different than what I had imagined or dreamt. I was talking about our kiss.

I kissed Erika.

“Wha—“she breathed heavily when I pulled away, breathing steadily. Her eyes were soft and her scowl was no more. We stood there opposite each other for what felt like an eternity avoiding eye contact, our lips (probably still swollen) still lingered closely with our warm breaths mingling.

I lifted my eyes eventually and I was acutely aware of every rise and fall of our chests, the way Erika’s irises seemed to reflect a different colour and that I could make just how beautiful she had grown in the last few years, or how the air around us rose a few degrees in the last couple of minutes—I will admit I was fuelled with need and want at this very moment and I didn’t feel too guilty about what just happened either. But should I?

“I could slap you for that.” she whispered, her voice was hoarse.

“I won’t stop you if that’s what you want to do.”

Her eyes shot up finally, her gaze alone sent sparks of electricity that coursed through my burning veins, the pads of my fingers digging into the small of her back and she let out a soft moan in response. “I take it as you’re not planning to do so.” I continued, casting a fleeting glance at her plump, red lips. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.” She said although she made no attempt of her own to move either. I nodded but with great reluctance. “We shouldn’t.” I agreed, hoping I would sound firm about it.

“Erika? Fratello?” a sing-song voice. “Where are you two? You’ve been missing for what seemed like ages to Vic. Oh look there he comes…” Alexander’s voice sounded with dread. I reluctantly let Erika go but Alexander walked in on us—I swear to god this boy has some sixth sense of sort. He smirked then craned his neck to look behind him. “They’re not here Damien! I think they went back to the porch the other way!” Alex lied and Erika peeked over my shoulder but I blocked her view with my height. She scowled, punching me lightly in the small of my back.

“Alex! Don’t you…” I warned.

“Don’t worry you two.” Alexander smiled evilly at the both of us after giving us a look of disapproval. “You’re not even going to ask what we were doing back here?” I asked, curious.

“Fratello? I may be your little brother, but I’m not completely oblivious to situations like these. I’m an experienced man myself, although, behind trees though, not really a good choice of a make-out spot…”

“Alexander!” the both of us chided and I stood in front of Erika defensively. He held up both his hands in mock surrender. “Hey hey, easy. Now don’t you worry, your dirty little secret is safe with me.”

“There’s nothing dirty about this or anything for that matter.” I said tartly.

“Whatever. So how long has this been going on?” Alex waggled his brows at us. “Should I be concerned or…?” he rubbed his chin with two fingers as if thinking hard.

“Okay that’s it.” I hooked an arm around Alex’s neck and dragged him along with me. “Hey you should be nice to me, after all, I just let myself in on your secret by accident, but man! This is by far the best thing I’ve ever got to know all month!”

“Alex, if you don’t shut your trap I’m telling Scott that you’re onto his little sister.” I threatened.

He gasped dramatically, “No I’m not!” he argued, smacking my forearm repeatedly making gagging sounds so that I’d let go of him. I looked behind to make sure Erika was coming with us. “It’s not like what you think back there.” Erika tried to explain.

“Hey hey, no need to explain. Whatever goes on between the two of you is your business, but say, am I the first to know about…”

“Alex!”

“Geez okay okay.” He relented.

**

That night, after making sure Erika was back home safely , I then had to go out of my way to take a particular French boy back to his rented apartment not too far away from both our places. I had no choice but to volunteer to do so, else the lousy woman driver aka Crawford would have to do it and that idea didn’t sit too well with me. Two strangers alone in a small space?

God, what is wrong with me?

It was an awkward ride. Neither of us said a word. Well, I didn’t bother to initiate a conversation either, but I knew if Erika knew I was being hostile to her new BFF, she wouldn’t be too pleased either. So for the sake of appeasing her anger from earlier, I promised I’d be nice…and wouldn’t make him walk the last 5 miles back home. “So, how are you liking the weather here in New York?”

Really? That’s the best I can come up with? The f*****g weather? What sort of men would have a conversation about the weather? Old boring men, that’s who.

Hence, the answer that came after was naturally just as boring as well. “The weather’s great, it’s warm and sunny here.”

Yet another awkward silence.

“Hey, by any chance, are you and Erika… are the two of you involved?”

“Involved…with what?” I asked, feeling slightly amused already.

“Pardon me, but are the two of you dating?” he rephrased his question. Dating? Who wants to know?

“What makes you say that we are?” Come on Martin, it’s just a simple yes or no question. But I was also curious as to what made Lucien say so.

“The two of you are unusually close and I have this feeling that you don’t like me being around Erika too much, just like how it was back at your place. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude like that.”

“Apology accepted. But that happens when you’ve spent every minute together growing up and doing every single thing together. I assure you there’s nothing unusual about the closeness of our friendship,” I said. “And in regards to your feelings about me, don’t count on it too much. I’m just generally more protective of Erika and my twin siblings from boys they barely know.”

“That’s understandable. I’m sorry for assuming that about you.”

“I’m sure you have a reason for even asking me that question in the first place, so what is it?”

I dreaded the answer that came after, even when I knew all too well what he was about to say. “I like her, Erika, I mean.”

“I see.” I said curtly, clenching and unclenching my jaw at the revelation. “But you’ve only known her for like what? A month?” I reasoned.

“Do you really need a timeframe in order to realise you like someone?” he asked.

“No, you’re right. But if that’s the case, then I’ve liked Erika ever since we were little kids.”