Baby V (Chianti Kisses #1) (20 page)

My speech skills haven't fully returned.
 “
Wha- what's this for
?

Dom's one arm reaches around to my front and pulls me back to him.
 “
We're celebrating
.


Celebrating what
?

His breath is hot on my skin
.

Our first official date
.
” He pushes into me, urging me to move forward toward our set table. Once it's reached he pulls back the nearest chair chivalrously for me. 

A silly though runs through my head.
 “
So, does this make me a slut? I mean, I practically
put out
before our official first date
,
” I laugh.

Dom takes his seat
.“
Let's just say it gives me high hopes for our
second
  date
.

 

~*~

 

Tuesday morning my alarm clock wakes me at six-fifteen. Six fifteen AM. I haven't been up this early in weeks, and my body is not used to the sudden change in my sleep pattern. A hot shower begins to reinvigorate my sleepy eyes although my large comfy bed is calling me back, beckoning to me like a beacon of sweet dreams. Dreams of Dom replaying in my head as I relive each and every minute of last night.

Euphoria clouds my judgement as I stand in the walk-in closet that is temporarily mine. Part of me wants to wear something sexy and gorgeous for Dom to see me in, but better judgement prevails. Having never been to a board meeting before,
I’
m not quite sure what to dress myself in. I can go the uber-professional route and wear my black pant suit even though it is reserved for funerals... or I can switch it up a little. I mean, I am only twenty-two (well, almost twenty-three) and since I am the head of my ne
w‘
departmen
t’
, I think
I’
m entitled to set the dress code for it, right?

A pair of tailored black capris, a pink satin button down shirt tucked in and a pair of black leather slip on kitty heels. I unbutton the top two buttons and add a long strand of pearls to polish the look off. Wearing my hair down and wavy with a hint of makeup, I inspect my reflection before approving the new professional version of me.

Dom is taking a phone call while finishing his morning coffee at the dining room table. I sit down next to him and tap my imaginary watch to illustrate that I am ready. I had woken up super early to make sure that I would
n’
t be my usual late self, and
I’
ll be damned if Dom is going to ruin my first real shot at punctuality.

Ending his call, he leans over playfully tugging at my pearls, skimming the strand and his fingers dangerously close to my breast.


Nice pearls... very businesswoman-like
.

 
His fingers continue along the edge and move to button the second shell button closed. He smiles, satisfied with himself.
 “
Now, tha
t’
s perfect.

I pretend to scowl at his overprotective gesture, but he just kisses the tip of my scrunched up nose,

Le
t’
s go.
I’
ll bring you up to speed in the car
.

Do
m’
s driver once again has the car ready and prepared as we set off to brave rush hour traffic into the office. With his tie draped undone around his neck I instinctively close in and begin to fumble with it.
I’
m a little rusty, but I manage to make it look decent. Mom had taught me how to help with my brothe
r’
s neckties. Getting three boys ready for formal functions needed all the assistance she could get. Happy with the finished product, and Dom smiling down at my accomplishment, I think it best to get a jump start on my new business savvy.


So, Mr. CEO. Brief me
.

He angles himself toward me and props his elbow up on the back of my seat.
 “
How much do you know about ATH? I know yo
u’
ve never really paid attention when anyon
e’
s ever spoken about it...
.

True. I usually zone out whenever business talk starts, but I am fully capable of using Google and Wikipedia to know enough about my famil
y’
s business to impress him, I think.


I know that it was started by our fathers when they were just teenagers fresh off the boat from Italy. They imported wine and olive oil at first and then bought the vineyards and olive groves. Eventually, they had a whole fleet of cargo ships that shipped worldwide, and added a trucking company to handle the cross country hauling. My dad handled all of the office-type stuff and yours managed all of the stuff in the field. They kept the company privately owned and left the it to their children
.

Dom looks truly surprised at the amount of ATH knowledge that I actually
do
  know.
 “
Very good. Sounds eerily similar to our last press release
.

Damn. That was where most of my information came from, actually.


But... yo
u’
re missing a few key facts, princess. Our Dads had little more than pocket change when they left their village and came to this country to make a better life for themselves. My dad practically grew up on a boat and was willing to work himself ragged to make something of himself. Your dad was a genius when it came to marketing and strategizing. He turned a small fishing boat into an empire. He sacrificed a lot for this company...
.
” His voice trails off. My dad sacrificed more than any man should have to, for his work. Back on track, Dom carries on.


But, it took one thing that neither of them had, to get the business off the ground. Money. So... they did what most poor foreign immigrants did. They got in with a loan shark. Emilio Rizzo loaned them what they needed to get things started, but charged them an astronomical amount of interest. Banks were
n’
t really an option for their kind back then, and the shyloc
k’
s took full advantage of it. After a year or so, thanks to your da
d’
s business savvy, they were able to pay their debt back. By that time, Rizzo had seen how much potential ATH had. He needed some more reputable income streams, so he refused to accept their payment. Instead, he wanted a percentage of the company
.

I
t’
s obvious that Dom is registering confusion on my face.


Rizzo was
n’
t exactly the type of guy that you negotiated with, baby. So, they gave in ,which probably saved their business from being burned to the ground. Rizzo became a very silent partner with twenty percent holding in the company. Your dad held forty percent, and my dad the other forty. The company stayed in-tact and Rizzo had a legitimate income to divert attention from his other, er, investments. He had little interest in the business other than his monthly dividend check. It was a win-win situation. When your dad passed, his portion of the company was divided among you kids. Ten percent each. When my dad died, Theresa and I split his portion. Twenty percent each
.

The car suddenly stops short, getting caught in the bumper to bumper traffic into Manhattan. I jerk forward against my seatbelt with the sudden halt of inertia. Dom reflexively holds his arm over me to protect me from imaginary harm. I feel safe under his strong hold but i
t’
s short lived as he quickly realizes that h
e’
s overreacted and frees me. Trying to divert my attention from his flush of embarrassment, he continues his story.


Ahem. Rizzo died about two years ago. His twenty percent stake was left to his son, Emilio Jr, or, as we
affectionately
  call him, E.J
.

Judging by Do
m’
s sudden change in tone, I highly doubt there is any affection between him and this E.J. guy.


Jr. is a bit more of a handful than his father. H
e’
s tried to take more of an active role in the company. He has a very different vision of where the company should be heading. Le
t’
s just say... he and our family business do
n’
t really mesh well together. We vote down his proposals every time. But, h
e’
s tried to stage a hostile takeover more than once. We do everything we can to keep him in check, but with twenty percent holding, he has some pull. John has control of your ten percent until you reach your inheritance. Our fathe
r’
s legacy is being divided among more and more of us. Another generation of splitting our shares and Rizzo will have controlling interest with the largest individual share of ATH. Which, according to our company by laws will give him the edge he needs to seize my job. So, you can see why i
t’
s so important for us that we present a united front against him. H
e’
s an asshole, plain and simple, V. He would run the company into the ground with his twisted business practices. H
e’
s going to be at the board meeting. I want you to promise to stay away from him, V.
I’
m serious baby, promise me
.

Hmmm. Let me think about this one. Someone other than a Lombardi or a DiBenedetto is trying to take control of the company my father lost his life protecting. Yeah, tha
t’
s not going to happen.


Alright. I promise. United front. Got it
.
” I hold out my crooked pinky to emphasize my sincerity.

Dom looks down at my pinky gesture with a quizzical look. He smirks while shaking his head, leaning into me. He anchors his lips in front of mine.
 “
No pinky promises. Yo
u’
re not a kid anymore, V. Just tell me you promise
.

The sweetness of the imported coffee still lingers on his breath. I withdraw my small finger and repeat my pledge.
 “
I promise.
I’
ll stay away from him
.

Dom nods in agreement, then applies his lips to mine before pulsing them against me deeply. I would promise this man anything.

His cell phone interrupts our potential make-out session. As he leaves my needy lips to answer his call, I turn my attention to the window
I’
m opening, enjoying the fresh air that helps me recover. Do
m’
s phone conversation monopolizes his attention for the duration of our car ride.

I pass the time by checking my emails on my phone. I send a generic
 “
Ho
w’
s your vacation,
I’
m so jealous, call me when you get bac
k

 
message to Stephanie. I have
n’
t heard much from her since she left with her family.
I’
m sure she has better things to do on a tropical island with beautiful beaches than to surf the internet and reply to me.

Our car pulls up to the home base building with the whirl of morning rush-hour around us. As the driver opens my door, Dom follows behind, ending his call. Swarms of hurried businessmen and women crowd through the main doors like packed sardines. I
t’
s a good thing
I’
m not a claustrophobic person by nature, because the elevator ride would have sent me into a panic.

I stare at the shiny plaque on the wall above the control panel stating the maximum capacity and weight limit. I then assess each of my fellow riders while sizing each of them up and decide that next time
I’
ll be taking the stairs.
I’
ve seen one too many horror movies where elevators drop out of control.

As we head to the top floors of the building, we loose the majority of our passengers, easing my nerves. Dom squeezes my hand, noticing my discomfort. The familiar elevator chime alerts us of our destination .


Ready
?

There are so many layers to that question. Am I ready to sit in on my first meeting? Am I ready to enter a room full of family at Do
m’
s side? Am I ready to grow up? Am I ready to join in my famil
y’
s legacy?

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