The Italian Director Next Door (CASTELLANO SERIES #1)

Chapter 2

   "And that concludes our meeting for today.” These were my all-time favourite words at the end of the day. I squared my shoulders, taking one last sip of my tea as Sophia looked up from her laptop who looked just as relieved as I was. I had her sit in in today’s meeting since I needed her to take the minutes.

“I suppose you know the usual drill if you have any other questions. Email them directly to me and I will try my best to have them answered by tonight."

Multiple heads bobbed up and down, a sign that they all had a mutual understanding. “Chief, will you be up to celebrate Madison’s birthday tonight?” one of the men from the Marketing department asked.

I looked towards Sophia, signalling her subtly with my eyes darting towards the marketing guy and she immediately understood. Throughout my time here, there were many people who had joined and left my company over the span of the last few years and to be honest, I had pretty much given up in taking the time to get to know each and every one of them. That’s just too much work. Sophia signalled to her phone subtly, clearing her throat and I took a quick glance at my phone at the corner of my eyes, covering my screen.

‘Madison from Media, 40th birthday tonight’ Sophia texted me.

“Ah, Madison.” I said as if I knew who he was even talking about. “I’m sorry I can’t make it tonight, I already have prior family dinner plans.” I said, smiling. Liar. I hardly ever have dinner with my mother. And even if I did, I’d know she’d be only bugging me with the same old topic and that is as to why I’m still single at 27 and then she would get ahead of herself—again and start setting me up on the next blind date.

I honestly just didn’t have time for another irrelevant man who was just gonna tell me that I work way too much and I needed to, in their own words, ‘chill the hell out’.

That date ended with me walking out on him less than 30 minutes into our meal. Was I too uptight? Yes. But did I care? Nope.

“Oh that's alright.” The Marketing guy said. “There’s always a next time.”

Yeah, thank God birthdays only happens once every year. “Yes, next time.” I nodded and Sophia let out a sigh of relief. I smirked at her reaction while I grabbed my notebook and phone with one hand form the mahogany desk and was the last to leave the meeting room.

While I sat on at my desk, watching the sun beginning to set, I did a little reflection on my past. Throughout the last few years, I was pretty much what everyone called a workaholic. But I wasn’t always like that.

I was once young and naïve, I thought love was the only thing that mattered and thought it could get me through life’s greatest challenges and when my ex fiancé broke off our engagement after returning from a business trip that changed everything. Back then, I didn’t have a stable job, I was working as a small time content editor at Vogue and I wasn’t earning much. I lived at a rented apartment with my ex fiancé and I refused to stay at my mother’s place. I had my ego to keep and I wanted my mother to know I was doing just fine without her help and reputation. As to what she did for a living, we’d get to that later.

And then I dated on and off after that for two years, but none of them which ever worked out for me. None of them whose calls I returned, whose dates I always bailed because I just felt nothing at all, for any of them.

Or maybe romance just didn't work for me after all.

Until one day I decided to pull my s**t together and eventually I was scouted by one of the Directors here at Rogue, and I climbed my way to the top, with now being the Chief Editor of this very company and right now, it was listed under my name as well.

The notification sound from my phone snapped me back into reality and I lazily glanced at my phone. There were a couple of messages from the shareholders of my company informing me of the various events that they needed me to show up at and 2 missed calls from my mother with a text that followed saying that she had another blind date set up for me this Saturday.

Exasperated, I switched the device of and moved the mouse of my computer, the screen saver disappeared in less than a second and I began scrolling for emails, it was a habit I always had before I left the office for the day.

My thoughts drifted off to the last blind date I was on. The prick still had his wedding ring on his finger, he was either cheating on his poor wife or was still attached to her. 

But all he ever talked for half the evening was about was himself. And why do I say half the evening, it was because I walked out on him when he started suggesting that he should come over to my place to spend the night. Ugh, as if!

But he was somewhat good looking, I’d give him a brownie point for that.

The rest of the hour went by with me replying to important email, coming up with proposal ideas for the next magazine issue and made plans with the Marketing department on how we should design our cover page on the upcoming issue. And then there was an impromptu Skype call.  One might think video conferences aren't stressful since you can either choose to not say anything, especially when you’re Chief Editor. But try having few people speak at the same time and then eventually start arguing through your speakers. 

Speaking of speakers, I wonder what does my p*****t/ hobo neighbour do for a living? The building that I currently live at doesn’t exactly scream cheap. Maybe he’s some kind of secret agent? Or maybe, just maybe, a mafia? Well he can't be. I laughed at that ridiculous thought but thought it over again.

I’m sure of it. He can’t be one. I mean, all mafias look scary right?  I mean, what kind of a mafia wears mismatched coloured clothing and blasts Britney Spears early in the morning?

I breathed a sigh of relief the second I switched off the desktop once the digital clock showed 5:30 P.M. , my eyes were hurting and my back needed a little stretching and I actually felt like I needed the treadmill right now.

Making my way to the carpark at the basement, I flung my tote and coat in the passenger seat as I switched out my heels for training shoes. Being at the gym at least 4 times a week was a ritual, maybe sometimes an obsession. I guess I just don't believe in those weight loss drinks I read on the other magazines. Why don’t I promote any in mine?

Simple.

I would never advertise a product that would harm my readers in any way, and especially not a product that I will never use, not even if the money looked good.

Credibility, that’s something I always aim for.

**

Stuffing my gym bag and tote into the gym locker, I tightened my shoe laces and headed for the treadmills. After adjusting the pace I wanted on the treadmill, I plugged in my air pods and began walking at a slow pace, reminding myself to breathe while I began my warm up.

I usually was blind to whoever comes on the next treadmill or worked out beside me since I was so focused on my routine. A stranger arrived on the treadmill next to mine and I didn’t even look to the side.  I was looking at the view that was beyond me through the floor to ceiling glass windows of the building. The Manhattan sky line from above was amazing, I took in the view of sun setting in the West as the sky gradually began to darken.

For a moment there, I felt like I was running after the setting sun, especially when my legs were moving a little too fast. Wait, was I really chasing the sun set for real or..

I looked down at the treadmill monitor display and turning real quickly to see the person who was messing with my settings. My eyes grew wide when I came to recognize who that person was. “You!” I hissed at my p*****t hobo neighbour. "What are you doing to my.. stop that!" I hissed, smacking away his fingers.

“So this must have been you earlier this morning when you decided to prank me with jamming the lift button on every floor. Tell me, is this what you uptight ladies do for fun?”

“It was a prank. And take it as a payback for saying that I..” I dropped my voice a little lower while I jammed the ‘stop’ button on the treadmill and the running belt came to a gradual halt. “For saying that my voice sounded like cat mating.”

“Oh you remembered what I said to you hours ago? I am so honoured.” He did a little circle with his fingers, tilting his head mockingly.

"What in god's name are you even doing here, have you been following me?"

"Don't be absurd, ragazza matta , I'm here to work out of course." The third ‘absurd’ of the day. Ragazza matta? What the hell does that even mean?

As he began setting the speed on the machine next to mine, he glanced over to me who currently has a hand on my hip, glaring at him while he set up the pace on his machine. “The last I checked, there are at least 20 other gyms around the area where we live, but why does it have to be here?”

“The last I checked, New York isn’t owned by some crazy lady who screams bloody murder at 5:30 in the morning. Oh by the way, Namaste to you too.”

I sighed in exasperation. This person was getting on my nerves and I let him, why do I let him? "Fine, you win on this. I’m leaving." I said in between huffs. Before I got down from the treadmill, I made a little mental note to google translate whatever it was that he had called me earlier. 

"I had a long day too, thanks for asking." He began jogging as I began to walk away. But he jammed his fist on the ‘stop’ button and hopped off the treadmill with ease. “Stop following me you creep.” I hissed as I moved towards the spin bikes and hopped on one and as expected, he appeared on the empty bike next to mine.

It was then, out of an exasperated glare, I actually looked at him from the corner of my eye. He was dressed in a dark blue windbreaker and a pair of black basketball shorts. I noticed his legs and frowned for a bit, he certainly does look fit for a hobo and that made my eyes trail up his thighs unknowingly—He clearly has never skipped leg day.

Impressive, I purred. Oh hell no! I mentally smacked myself for the comment I just made. This behaviour is absolutely unacceptable!

"Hey, eyes up here tesoro." He pointed to his face with his two fingers. I felt my face heat up and I cleared my throat, attempting to shrug it off with a roll of my eyes. But then again, his muscles did not make up for his horribly styled hair and overgrown beard.

"There are at least 10 other spin bikes in this row that’s empty and yet you choose the one right next to mine, why?" I cried out in exasperation after I noticed he was increasing the pace of his cycling on purpose the second I increased mine. He was looking back and forth, between the both of us, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"I guess I just love the smell of bad tuna.”

"There’s no tuna here, perv!" I hissed. "Really?” he put a hand to his mouth in a mocking manner. “Then what is that smell coming from you?" he asked almost innocently, pinching his nose.

"Okay, that's it." My spinning came to a half and got off, instantly regretting it because my legs felt like cold salad and I felt dizzy in the head. I bent a little lower and increased the intensity level of his spin bike "Get your fishy hands of my machine." he attempted to swat my hand away as I watched him in amusement as he struggled.

"What can I say? You look like a man that can use a leg day." I made a little way with my fingers and his jaw dropped. Looks like I bruised his little ego. I moved onto the weights section, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t follow me here this time.

I turned around, after doing a squat, half expecting him to struggle with the new intensity setting I had done on his spin bike but he just stretched his arms and yawned at me. I turned my head around quickly with my back facing him and willed myself to finish the rest of my workout in peace.

45 minutes later, I was ready to leave. I usually took my shower in the comfort of my own home, so I merely pulled over an oversized sweater and grabbed my belongings, returned the key card and gym towel and headed to the lobby of the building while I waited for a valet to bring my car round. I looked around cautiously silently thanked god that the p*****t was nowhere in sight.

Good. Riddance.

But that little excitement didn’t last very long until I felt a tap behind my shoulder. I spun around and I stood to face with him ago. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” I whined as I turned back around.

“Give me a ride home.”

“No.” I said, ignoring him when I saw my car came round the building.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because I don’t feel like being nice to a stranger today.”

“Have you ever?”

“Yeap, but just not to you.” I said flatly as the valet got out of my car and passed the keys to me while I dropped my gym bag and traded my running shoes for flip flops. He was nowhere in sight and I thought he had left. I shrugged and I got into my car. I got the driver’s seat and screamed when I saw him all buckled up.

“You can’t just get into people’s car like that! Get out!”

“But I’m already all strapped in tesoro.”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me mister, get out before I kick you out.”

“Ah, so you did find out what it means.”

“Of course I had to, else how would I know you’re not cussing me out in Italian?’

“I never cuss out pretty ladies.”

I sighed in exasperation and he relented. “Okay, tell you what. You let me hitch a ride with you and I’ll pay for your take out meal for tonight, anything you’d like.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Anything I like?”

“Yes, were you deaf when I said so?

Jesus

I willed myself to simmer down and I finally agreed. “Okay fine, one ride and that’s it.”

“Good, now let’s leave, I’m already hungry.”

"How did you know I was gonna order take out anyways" I asked after a brief moment of silence between us.

"Remember those missing fried shrimps and tofu you ordered two days ago?"

"Yeah?" I narrowed my eyes at him. “I must have mixed up my order.” I said, recalling that that night when I was working and I had ordered my food in a hurry.

"Well about that..” he trailed. “That was me."

"What do you mean it was you?” I turned my head briefly to look at him before turning my attention back on the road.

"Yeah well, your door bell rang a couple of time and it disrupted me from my nap. So when I got to the door, I just told the delivery guy you asked me to take it in for you.  And plus, I was so hungry after my nap, I might have stolen two boxes from your order." He shrugged, feeling no remorse.

Unbelievable.

"I swear I would actually stop this car and kicked your ass out of my car.”

He lifted his hands in surrender and smiled sheepishly. "Hey, at least I’m being honest about it and plus, I’m already making it up to you tonight." He relented.

"Fine.” I groaned. “Although I don’t know what sins have I committed to deserve such an annoying neighbour like you?”

“I call it, destiny.”

“The hell you are.”

**

Mr. what's-his-name was true to his words. He did pay for my take out and even took the liberty to order a tub of Haagen Dazs for me. After I had taken a long hot bath and placed a sheet mask on my face, I made my way to the lounge and searched for the remote to turn on the TV and searched for a program on Netflix to binge since I had just finished watching Money Heist.

I stretched for a bit as I recalled my day. Today has been certainly different than the other rest and it was all thanks to my pathetic excuse of a neighbour who not only disrupted my weekend with his bad music, called me a Celine Dion wannabe, annoyed the hell out of me at gym, climbing into my car without as much as an invitation and stealing my food. Which sane person actually does things like that.

I stopped myself and breathe. Okay, enough of complaints. He has already paid for your dinner to make it up to you, just get over it and avoid him the next day and the weeks to come. There, simple.

It was only a little later after dinner, I decided to dig into my ice cream for dessert, courtesy of my hobo of a neighbour. Grabbing a spoon from the utensil drawer, I popped open the lid of the ice cream tub and my smile morphed into a frown and then eventually a glare.

"What the hell..?" I pinched my nose and pushed the tub away from me.

I screamed bloody murder when I realized that wasn't ice cream at all, it was freaking tuna spread. That sick son of a b***h! I then realized a yellow sticky note pasted on the bottom of the lid and I yanked it out of exasperation.

“What did you think about the choice of dessert for tonight? I chose it with extra care, xoxo, your pervertito neighbour.'

That son of a b***h.