No Strings Attached

Chapter Eleven

"That statement is the first and final answer Giovanni will give to the public, Tom. There is no other story there. Don't you think I would have found a way to spin it by now if there was?" I fib for the fiftieth time today, my hand covering my eyes in exhaustion.

"Well, you'd be crazy not to."

I pull my hand away from my face, staring at the dark doorway. "It's almost nine, Tom. I'll be sure you're the first to know if there is anything else that arises here."

"I'm counting on it."

I hang up the phone, nearly dropping it into the receiver. If another fucking call comes through, I think I'll finally lose it. I have a moment to myself for the first time since this morning. I skipped lunch, skipped dinner, focused solely on getting this handled today. You never know with situations like these, the one moment you let your guard down is the moment everything really goes to shit.

Right now, I'm not hungry. Right now, I want a drink.

However, the insistent ache in my chest makes me sure that in doing that, drinking to forget my pain is something my father, something Dixon would do in a moment like this. It keeps me from walking over to the bar on the other side of the room.

The phone blares, and I glare at the machine.

"For fucks sake." I lift the phone to my ear. "Scarlett Bardot."

"Hi."

A voice I don't mind hearing. "Giovanni."

"You sound tired."

"Not tired, no."

I hear him chuckle softly. For some reason, it makes me picture him lounging in a quiet room.

"I won't think you aren't any less a genius if you tell me you are."

"I'm not a genius."

"There are currently no paparazzi outside my home right now."

"I did my job," I reiterate. "That's all."

"Well, thank you. I know it probably would have profited your company much more to just let it all unfold."

I lean back, breathing in. "I told you already—"

"I know. I know. That isn't how you do things. I expected you to be lying about that, you know."

I smile softly. "I know."

I'm surprised by the amount of time that passes by between us in silence. Neither of us tries to speak, and neither of us attempts to end the call. I begin to wonder why he chose to call in the first place.

"Is it against the rules to say Thursday seems far away?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm still saying it."

I roll my eyes but can't help the smile that creeps across my lips in remembrance. "I'll see you in three days."

***

"Come on, one drink," Carlos pleads over the loud pulsating music, bumping into me while a person tries to squeeze into the bar behind him. He looks at the bartender, holding up his hand. Even though the person beside him has had his hand raised for more than a few minutes, the bartender approaches Carlos with a sly smile.

"Can you get my friend a drink, Lonny? A Cosmo?"

I grimace, and the bartender chuckles. "This one looks like she only does the hard stuff."

"Scotch. On the rocks, please."

"Why do you always have to show me up?" Carlos complains jokingly as the bartender pours my drink, ignoring the poor guy still waiting for him to look up.