New Money

Chapter 7- Tylenol

Leo Giovanni

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My head hurt like a son of a bitch. So did my back, now that I think of it. I might be too old for this type of partying. Hangovers were much worse after a few years. After a few years? Damn, I was already acting like I was 47. Shit.

Sunshine hit my face, and I opened my eyes slowly. At least I was at home. Unfortunately, I was laying on a floaty in the middle of my pool. Caterina was passed out on a couch and, thankfully, I didn't see anyone else.

My moment of peace was interrupted by the sharp clip-clop of a pair of high heels. Shit.

"Mr. Giovanni, I have a call from a 'Miss Wright,'" It was my PA, Eloise. Giving her my house key was simultaneously the best and worst thing I have ever done.

"Give me a sec. And while you're at it, would you give me the time?" I tried to doggy paddle to the edge of the pool, but ultimately I just jumped off the floaty and swam up. My suit was destroyed, but somehow drunk me had the forethought to take off my thousand-dollar shoes and leave them next to the grill.

"It's 11:38, sir." Motherfucker. This was a great way to start my morning.

"Thank you," She handed me the phone and brought it to my ear. "Good morning, Auden. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon." Caterina continued to sleep, and Eloise walked away.

"Yeah, yeah, well I just have a few questions," As she spoke, I made my way inside and headed to my room.

"Alrighty, then. Shoot." I pulled my phone away from my ear for a second, and mouthed coffee at Eloise, hoping she'd get the message, then headed upstairs.

"So, when are we supposed to get married?" I opened up the door to my room, and put my phone on speaker so I could place it down and grab some clean clothes. It really was too early for this shit, but I had to be an adult. Literally. That was enough to make me almost hurl the 7 shots of tequila. Or was it 8? I didn't know.

"Well, I'm expected to propose to you in about 7 weeks. Then, the wedding will be about a month or 2 after that." She said something along the lines of Jesus fucking hell, shit bags but I couldn't exactly make it out. To be honest, I didn't realize she had a mouth on her, but she definitely was not wrong. I began to unbutton my shirt as she answered.

"So, how are we gonna do this? I don't want to wake up with a bullet in my forehead tomorrow." Her laugh was dry. I untucked my shirt as I mulled over an answer to give her. My head was still killing me. As if it would go away in five minutes.

"We could always go on a date, make it public." This was one of the most civil conversations I had in a while and, considering the circumstances, that was quite odd. Maybe she was hungover, too. Wait, she couldn't even legally drink. I grabbed a hoodie from the pile of clothes I had grabbed. She was silent for more than a second again.

"I don't think I can do that." Before I could ask why she spoke up again. Seemed she had read my mind. "I still haven't told my boyfriend that I'm supposed to be getting engaged. I don't want him to find out from the front pages of a tabloid." Fair enough. I was slightly surprised that she still hadn't told him yet. I couldn't say much. I didn't know what an actual relationship looked like. The last time I actually dated someone was 4 years ago, I think. Maybe more, maybe less.

"I don't think I can just propose out of nowhere. The press will think I knocked you up." This whole boyfriend thing was kind of annoying. If he wasn't in the equation it would be a hell of a lot easier. I slipped on a pair of sweats and she spoke up again.

"I could call him today and go out with you tonight." Damn, sounded like my hookup calendar. I laughed to myself a little and hiccuped.

"That's a dick move, Auden. Breaking up over the phone." I opened up a drawer in my closet, trying to find a watch.

"Yeah," she sighed into the phone. Apparently, she didn't like my sense of humor. Rude.

"Is 7 okay for you?" I had found the watch I wanted and wrapped it around my wrist.

"Sure, that's fine with me. I'll send you my address." I sauntered into the ensuite bathroom after grabbing my phone and tried to find some Tylenol.

"Dress kinda nice. Don't want the press to think I'm just in it for the sexy time, sweetheart." There was muffled noise on the other end of the phone, probably her getting up.

Jackpot. A massive, Costco-sized bottle of Tylenol.

"I'll see what I can do. Anything in particular?" Her tone was kinda clipped. Did she not like me calling her sweetheart? I think she told me that yesterday. Oops.

"No, I really don't care what you wear. Whatever you feel like. I can send you the place if you want." I popped a few pills back, dry, and tried to find my deodorant. That son of a bitch was never where I left it.

"Yeah, that would be nice. Anyway, sounds good and I'll see you at 7." She hung up immediately. Man, I knew I was kinda a dick, but I didn't think it was that bad. I was even trying to be nice to her.

"Leo, get your ass downstairs! I'm making pancakes, dimwit," Caterina yelled upstairs. I could psychoanalyze Auden later; Caterina made world-class pancakes. And I needed a cup of coffee. That would be nice. Oh, and maybe a nap.