Forbidden Extras

Possessive

Requested by: @HannaVercelli
______________________________________________________________

"Jasper, I might be a little late coming home tonight," Allison said on the other side of the phone. "I have to meet with a potential author and I don't know how long that will last."

"Well if it's anything like last time it shouldn't be too long," I said thumbing through my pile of ungraded papers.

"Yes, but that guy didn't have the skill set like this one. I think this might be our next best seller."

I paused my rummaging. "Really? Who is this guy?"

"His name is Salvatore Rossi. He's really popular in Italy but he's looking to expand over here and has his eyes on our company. They want me to go speak with him about making a possible deal."

"Really now? Nobody else up for the task? I mean, your grandfather was Italian but I can almost guarantee the only Italian word you know is 'fettuccine'."

I didn't have to see her to know she was rolling her eyes at me. "He speaks English, Jasper."

"Good for him."

"Anyway, they picked me so I can have some added training in case they really do promote me. They've talked about it a lot, but I need more experience."

"I see," I fired up my laptop getting it prepared for the long night ahead. "Well that sounds great."

"It is. But in case I'm not back in time, there is a casserole in the fridge you can eat for dinner."

I paused typing in my password. "Did you make it?"

"Yeah, of course. Why?"

"No reason." I opened up Google for the number to the nearest pizza place.

"Okay. Well . . . I'll see you later on tonight, babe. Don't stay up too late with papers."

"Can't promise anything."

"Jasper," she warned.

"I love you. Remember that you and wine don't mix after eight. He might try to make a different deal if you tangle with Yellowtail again."

"Jasper Andrews!"

"Ciao!" I hung up the phone with a smug smile. I have always loved riling her up from day one. Years later, it's just the same.

Another thing that I loved about her was how despite her lack of skill, she always tried to make me dinner. I told her that this was the twenty-first century and I don't expect her to take on the role as a house wife but still she tried. Key word: tried. Still, I loved it.

However, tonight I wouldn't have the privilege of watching her work in the kitchen harboring over a meal that would no doubt be replaced by take out. Like so many nights this past month, she was gone, taken away by her work. At first it didn't bother me. But now I can't deny it left me feeling uneasy. Especially when the person she was with was not difficult to look at.

I was only mildly ashamed to see Salvatore's name in my search bar. What was really bad was the images I was scrolling through.

"Christ," I groaned when I could easily count the eight muscle ridges on his stomach.

Was he seriously an author? He looked like something straight off a fucking romance book cover for godsake. Especially in this photo were his dark hair was tied back from his tanned face to reveal what Allison would consider a 'smoldering smile'. Like are you fucking kidding me? I really started to hate myself when I looked at about five or ten more photos of him all at different book signings with his fans. There was no denying why he had such a huge fan base. His writing could be shit, but at least they'll have something nice to look at in the back of the book.