The Italian Director Next Door (CASTELLANO SERIES #1)

Chapter 3

 Not bumping into my annoying hobo looking neighbour was definitely a good start to my day. Last night’s tuna surprised was indeed the last straw for me. I can’t believe I even considered on trying to be nice to him.

This morning, I even had time to get myself a cup of coffee from a local cafe and made my way up to the highest floor of the building where the Chief Editor of Rogue sat.

"Morning chief, you’re looking rather cherry today." Sophia commented as she places a jar of cookies she baked and three other lilac folders on my desk. “Thank you for noticing that, I am very much alive than I was yesterday, and maybe a little bit wiser.”

“I certainly do not hope it’s because you have murdered your annoying neighbour last night.”

“I wish I could, but that would be a crime and I can’t be sent to jail because of that because I have an empire to run.” I hung my coat on the hanger and sat in my chair, taking a swig of my coffee and then cursing at the hot liquid. I noticed her cookie on my desk. "How is it that you have 2 kids and still have the time to bake?" I asked, opening jar of treats and munched on one.

Sophia was a single mom with two kids to raise on her own, her husband passed on two years ago due to cardiac arrest, and she needed a job to feed her kids. I hired her after two months of probation since she was so good at her job and had HR raise her salary after two years plus a hefty bonus. As uptight as I was, I was never one to let a good potential employee go unnoticed. 

“How does that still surprises you every time?” she smiled, shaking her head.

"Beats me, I don’t think I can juggle work and kids at the same time. Ah yes, also, I need you to clear anything that's between 12:00 to 2 PM on my schedule. My mother wants to meet me for lunch or she threatened that she will come down here by herself with another blind date towing behind her.”

"Understood, Charlotte Andrews's lunch dates are not to be turned down. Remember that last time when you did though...” Sophia winced as she recalled that incident. The last time I declined lunch with my mother, she brought a whole catering service to my floor just so she could see me and discuss about her new beau she met on a cruise in Greece. I learned my lesson the hard way—never turn down meetings and meals with Charlotte Andrews, no one, not even her own daughter. That woman never takes a ‘no’ for an answer.

But one may also ask what the big deal with Charlotte Andrews is? Well she was Miss America in her 20's, a fellow Vogue model –before she had me, then she stepped up her game and modelled with big brands like Gucci, Burberry, Dior. The list goes on. She’s gotten so many sponsorships in the last 40 decades and she was listed in Forbes as the highest paid model in the world, the paps followed her around, everyone wanted in on her business. But just like me, her love life was in a mess. Over the years, the men that she’s been with constantly gave her managers a headache, sometimes even a heart attack. In short, everyone wanted to be in her shoes, everyone wanted to be like her and would definitely kill to be her daughter.

Now you see why I had to keep a low profile and lived someplace else where people didn’t recognize me? Well that has changed since I have risen in status as the Chief Editor of the biggest magazines in New York. Paps photographed us having lunch one day and hounded us on the same day and bam, my name was all over the news.

"Anyways, this is the profile that I've gathered on our new Director of Rogue. This man...” she trails, pointing at the closed document file that I was too busy to even look at. "Apparently is a big shot back in Rogue branch in Italy. He has the paps following him all over town and has done many campaigns, providing organizations with sponsorship on various projects.”

“Hm, if he was so famous, why bother moving to the other side of the world?” I said absent-mindedly, scrolling through my desktop, reading a marketing proposal that was sent in early this morning.

“I could only guess its’ to take a breather at a place no one knows about him?"

"Mmhmm, it's always these rich, Italian guys who are always hounded by paparazzi."

“I can’t wait to see him. Why don’t you take at least a minute to run through his profile? Then you will understand why I describe the way I described him.”

“I’ll see him when I see him. Anyway, does anyone know what time is he arriving? I have a conference call at 9 AM and I don’ think I have the time to give a welcoming speech." I asked as I flipped open the documents that needed my signature.

"No one was told actually, but I'm guessing he should be here any minute now. HR's words, not mine."

"Hm." I hummed quietly, fingers skimming through the details of the document. Sophia took my silence as a sign and left my office and returned to her desk outside. I flipped opened my planner and scanned through the calendar boxes— Board meetings, a business trip a few days from now to Paris to meet with Cartier whose new designs will be featured in the upcoming issue and also a meeting there with a particular investor who was very much interested in investing in our company.

I was replying emails after emails that I was oblivious to the commotion unravelling outside my office. Sophia knocked on my tinted glass door. "What’s going on out there?”

"Chief, he's here." she says excitedly, stomping her heels on the Persian beneath my desk. "He's definitely an eye candy, s**t I feel like my panties are soaked."

"My god, I sure hope you’re not exaggerating with this." I smiled while getting off my seat. "Mr. Ethan Castellano, the new hunk of a Director is at our doors!"

"God Sophia, please don't refer him as that." I took the profile folder of the new director and brought it out with me, casually flipping it open as I walked through the hallway. When I arrived at the centre point of the office floor, I watched the chaotic scene that unfolded in front of me. Everyone was taking turns in shaking hands with him and Sophia stepped forward and introduced us. "Mr. Castellano, this is Elizabeth Danvers, our Chief Editor of Rogue magazine, Miss Danvers, this is Mr. Ethan Castellano."

I shook his hand warmly and smiled. Okay maybe Sophia wasn’t exaggerating like I thought she was. This man indeed looked smokin’!

But that smile on my face gradually to turn into a frown and an eyebrow was raised. Wait a minute, why did he looked like someone I know. "Mr. Castellano." I greeted but my thoughts were elsewhere. "Did you enjoy your tuna?" He whispered under his breath.

I stared at the well-groomed hunk (as how Sophia had referred him as earlier), most of his overgrown beard was gone and replaced with a set of clean shaven, killer angled jawline. His smiled, flashing his perfect row of teeth, his overgrown hair was cut short and slicked back and blown dry? Oh my god, as I soon came to a realization, my jaw began to drop lower, and lower...

"This is a sick prank you're pulling, how can you possibly be the new Director of Rogue?" I said calmly and everyone gasped in shock. Sophia used her hands to make slicing notions at her throat, as if warning me to watch my words but I paid her no attention.

“Finally, I get to meet the well-known, uptight, feisty, workaholic Chief Editor of Rogue, Elizabeth Danvers.”

Another round of gasps and snickers.

Fine, two can play at that game.

“Wow, I guess you can add that to your list of people who you aspire to be a month from now.” I shot back. His smile turned to a smirk and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. My then hobo now sexy hunk of a neighbour took a step towards me and closed whatever remaining distance we had between us and whispered. "As bossy as you are, do remember that I'm your new Director and I believe, you now, report to me." His full lips pressed together, suppressing what I could only guess, a triumphant laughter.

You’re good, you should be a lawyer instead. Merely a Fashion Editor doesn’t suit you very well.

And that’s when it hit me. He knew, all these while he knew I was about to be his new colleague and he and I had been at each other’s throats for the whole of yesterday and he let me. Wow, I certainly outdone myself in that department of disrespect.

I winced internally as I recalled the whole of yesterdays’ events in my head.

"It's been a pleasure meeting all of you and I hope we're able to cooperate with one another.” He finally turned back to the crowd that was around us, addressing them formally now. “I just moved here last week from Rogue, Italy and now will be working as your new Director here in New York. Now that we have settled with our greetings, please, don’t mind me and get back to work.”

The crowd nodded and clapped for him, whispering to each other in the process. “It seems to me that our bosses already know each other.” I heard someone whispered.

Ugh, Castellano.

“Miss Danvers, I will see you in my office, now." He then turned to me, his smile growing wider and wider by each passing second and I, for one did not look very amused.

“This can't be right, is this some prank video? Am I being secretly recorded somewhere?" I closed his room door behind me looking for hidden cameras on each corner of his office. “Hey I can’t possibly risk having cameras placed in my office okay? I’m a very private man.” He chuckled, watching my reactions in amusement. “Jesus mia cara, calm down.”

I narrowed my eyes at him when he called me that and flipped open the profile folder that my secretary has prepared earlier this morning. I looked at the photo, then at him, then at the photo again. How did that—I was referring to the hobo looking man become that sexy hunk of a man.”

"But you were just supposed to be my neighbour." I sounded like I was about to cry after when I came to a realization. "What did I do to deserve this? Why me?" I groaned. He laughed a hearty laugh and clicked on the remote that instantly made his large windows turn opaque.

"Never in my wildest dreams I'd see you at work too, this must destiny, tesoro."

I knew he was bluffing.

"This isn't destiny,” I said flatly. “And stop calling me pet names, I’m not your sweetheart, boss.” I bit out the last word.

He chuckled, “I’ve never seen another crazy American woman quite like you.”

“Hey, I’m 10% Latino.”

“And 90% American”

I said nothing. He was right.

“But do you honestly expect me to believe you knew nothing of this?" I hissed and shook the folder in front of him.

“Oh I did. And you must know something about me. Back in Italy I am very much a man of great influence and I’m very careful with where and what I invest my money into. Take this situation for instance, did you honestly expect me not to find out anything about my co-workers before I started investing in this branch?”

Man of influence? Who does he think he is? Abraham Lincoln?

“Then you must’ve known where I lived as well, and yet you picked the empty loft right next to mine.”

“I like that place. Realtors says it has good feng shui or something...” he did a little movement with his hands. “Not that I believe in all that.” He trailed.

“There are more expensive places in New York that you could have easily purchased.”

“But I’ve already came to love that place, and you want to know what’s the best part that the realtors left out?”

“Breathless and wondering.” I said sarcastically.

“I have a screaming 27 year old beautiful woman as my alarm clock every single morning.” He chuckled. “No wonder the service utilities are pretty damn high.”

“God damn it Castellano. You could have chosen anyone else to mess with but why me?”

“That’s for me and only me to know.” He said as he got up from his chair, slowly approaching me. I swallowed hard, taking a step back but he caught me with one strong arm, holding me still.

"You never knew this annoying neighbour of yours could clean up this well did you? What was it that you called your boss again?” He asked, lowering his gaze at me with the most intimidating set of eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Why did you have to dress up like a hobo and pretended like a p*****t yesterday. Was it to test me or something?”

“Most certainly not. I wanted to know what the Chief Editor was really like, take it as like an undercover project.”

“I guess I failed the test then.”

“Not quite, Elizabeth.” I looked at him when he said my name. Man, that rolled off his tongue with such ease, it pained me in places I was not about to mention. “You’re far from it, and frankly, you’re pretty fun to be around with.”

“I suppose now that you had your share of fun, please do excuse me while I head back to work.”

“By the way, love your dress." he looked briefly at my dress before releasing my arm.

I huffed. "I'm not having this conversation with you any further and I'm not letting you ruin the rest of day with all your pranks." I covered my body with the folder I had in my hand. "Stop staring at me, I’ll have you know that there are rules in this office, you perv."

"Non essere assurdo, it's a compliment." He said, doing a little mock salute with two fingers away from his temple. “Oh I’m sure that’s a compliment.” I said, turning around in my heels.

“Do not disturb me for the rest of the day.”

“I can’t promise you that.”

**

I came to an abrupt halt in my proposal preparation and I slammed all ten fingers against the flat keyboard when I thought about the tuna dessert he had sent me last night. My whole kitchen smelled like fish and it was all thanks to him. And there I thought he had actually gotten me dessert because he was sorry…

I leaned back in my chair with a leg sticking out in the air and pulled open my snack drawer, sweeping through the items with my fingers.

“Whoa, my god chief, a strip tease so early in the morning?” Sophia retraced her steps just as she was about to walk into my office.

“And that’s the whole point of knocking first.” I wiggled my brows as I placed the items on my table.

“Are you perhaps having a science experiment that I don’t know about?”

“You could say that, except this time, I’ve found my lab rat.” I whispered.

Sophia looked absolutely clueless as to where I was getting on and I decided I should just leave her out of it. Or else she would stop me without a doubt.

Minutes later, I had Sophia sent in the mug of coffee as a welcome refreshment to our new Director next door. I made sure to pop a tight lid over the company coffee mug so he wouldn't be able to see the colour of the liquid neither smell it. I was back in my office writing down a list of items I needed to get for groceries later this weekend and a full minute later, I heard heavy footsteps storming towards my office with my door opening and closing after.

"This isn't coffee." He spat.

"What are you talking about Mr. Castellano?" I asked innocently. "I haven't have the slightest idea."

"Non essere assurdo, you think your secretary would have the balls to pour whatever it is into the new Director's drink?"

“It’s our usual practice to welcome the Director with a good cup of coffee, you need more sugar cubes?”

“Elizabeth...” he said in a warning tone.

"Dang, you got me." I pulled a face and continued writing my list. "What did you put in here? There's..." he sniffed it. "Pepper and tobasco sauce? Were you trying to poison me?" he whispered yelled and people were beginning to stare into my office since the Director's hands were flailing about and holding a mug.

I pressed the switch on my remote to blur out my windows and placed my pen down. "Well I for one return kindness with kindness. I simply wanted to repay you for the little ice cream treat you sent me last night. But that..," I pointed to his mug "was simply more, delectable."

"You're childish for a 27 year old." He chuckled. "Pranks? Really?"

"Maybe you should have thought twice before playing your ear deafening, spit in the face, kick in the crotch delightful music." I said, standing up, circling around my desk to pick out a magazine for reference at my book shelf.

"It's my loft; I'm allowed to play anything I want."

"You're right, but at 5:30 in the morning? That's just absurd, don’t you think?" I used his favourite word against him and that frown he had on his face didn’t stay too long.

“Why do you hate Britney Spears so much?” he asked, placing the cup of disgusting drink on my table, leaning again my desk with his arms folded.

“I don’t hate her.” I clarified, pulling out a magazine and flipping it open to the content page, my finger trailing down the topics. “But having my yoga session interrupted with that kind of singing just didn’t work for me.”

“Fine, maybe I’ll play her in the evenings then.” He smirked. “You’re giving me a reason to break into your place and destroying your speakers.”

“Don’t worry, it’s still under a year’s warranty. Also, I was thinking of getting a boom box, what do you think? Blast some Celine Dion on the speakers while I take a shower?”

I imagined him in the showers belting out soprano notes except that I wasn’t paying much attention to the music he was singing, but towards something else...

I scoffed as I recalled he had referred my singing to. “Don’t you dare..” I pointed at his chest with the edge of the magazine which he pushed his chest against, daring me to pull my next move. My eyes dropped to the sight of his lips and I groaned internally. Now who’s the perv?

Our little conversation was interrupted when Sophia knocked on my door and pushed it open slightly. "Chief, your..ohh damn, I mean..” she cleared her throat and I retracted the magazine from Castellano’s chest and he smirked, as he continued leaning against my desk.

“Your moth..I mean Charlotte Andrews is on Line 1." Sophia was clearly distracted and tongue tied at the presence of the new Director. Her cheeks were flustered and I nodded in understanding, gesturing her to head back out.

"Right, I'll call her back later."

"She said it's really urgent and it can't wait." her gaze flickered from me to Castellano and mouthed a 'what’s going on?' while he distracted himself, busy flipping through the magazine which he had snatched out of my hand before Sophia stepped back out.

I sighed in frustration, walking back around my desk to move some files creating some space and accidentally pressed the button of the speakerphone. "Honey bunch,” she sang. My eyes grew wide at that horrible term of endearment and I hurriedly pressed on all the buttons on the phone trying to turn the volume down but that somehow only made her voice louder.

“Well I was waiting to tell you the news at lunch but I just simply can't wait! I'm getting married... AGAIN!"

I quickly tried to cover the phone with all the files and winced when Castellano turned around with an amused smile spread across his face. “s**t s**t s**t!”I cussed. You might want to actually pick up the phone up mia cara.”

I quickly did as I was told, holding it to my ear and made a face at him before pointing to the direction of the door, hoping he’d get my wordless gesture. “I’ll be on my way out.” He whispered and pushed himself off my desk and walked out of my office. I waited until the door closed behind him and continued our conversation.

"What? Please tell me you’re joking." I hissed as I felt my face burning in embarrassment when I had realized my boss had overheard my mom's little announcement.

"Yeah, it's just the third time."

"Just the thir..." I exclaimed and stared out of my office window. "Just the third time?" I said and brought my tone a little lower this time. "Mom, really, this is embarrassing. Really, really embarrassing. I don't know how you do it, but do you not care what the people think of you?"

"I know sweetheart, but I can't help it.”

I recalled the Italian word that Castellano had been constantly using on me and a small smile crept its way to my face before frowning second later again.

“George takes such good care of me and he actually listens to me when I rant to him, and he didn't even label me as 'too emotional' like the last two did."

"The first was dad." I said flatly. Did she forget about him already?

"Oh honey please. Romantic feelings, they develop and change over time. Sometimes, relationships just don't work out no matter how hard you try, baby. Take your dad for instance, all he ever did was travel, travel travel and he was hardly at home. When we spoke, it's like he doesn't even say much, its’ frustrating!" she said exasperatedly.

Yeah because all you talk is about fashion and the French male model you work with…

I felt a headache coming my way and I knew I needed to end this conversation. "Mom, I can't talk now. I have an on-going conference call." I glanced at the digital display on the desktop and continued. "But yes, I'll see you at lunch and no more blind dates." I warned.

“But how did the last one went? I heard he owns a pharmaceutical company?”

“Mother, he’s very much married and you know I don’t date married men.”

"Shame.” I heard her smack her lips together. “Alright baby, I love you and please, don’t be late." She spoke a little gentler now.

"Love you too mom." I placed the phone back into its receiver and groaned in frustration. Two years ago, my mother—Charlotte Andrews had a whole article written in a competitor’s magazine about her finding her true love to commemorate her second marriage and now she's about to have the community find out about her third and hopefully, final marriage.

I stared at the magazine that was flipped open in front of me when Castellano had left it earlier, the page where Charlotte Andrew’s summer outfit was photographed and labelled accordingly to brands along with her words of advice at the top right corner. ‘Summer’s my favourite season of the year, where the men aren’t all wrapped up in thick coats and sweaters. After all, less is always more.’

God damn it, who let her put in such a raunchy quote like this?

My phone screen lit up and it buzzed briefly. There was a text from an unknown number. 'Cheer up. This 3rd marriage might work out for her after all :)'

'Who's this?'

'Your favourite next door neighbour'

'How did you get my number?'

'Through your work profile obviously, hey did you realize we both have the same address?'

'Piss off! I'm blocking you right away.'

'Also, do you hear that?'

'Hear what?'

I held my breath in for a while hoping that I would be able to hear what it was. And then, there was it, a rather familiar tune of music that I could never forget, not even if I was held at gun point.

'Are you playing Britney at the office?!!!’

‘The one and only, do you love it? The song’s title is Circus.’

‘I didn’t ask, now turn it off’

‘Never! I’m actually glad the walls between us aren’t sound proof’

‘And why is that so?’

‘I learned one more thing about you today'

My fingers hovered above the keyboard on my phone, not sure what or how much he has heard and before I could think of another reply, another text from him came in.

‘That you’re single as heck’