No Strings Attached

Chapter Thirteen

With my arms caging in the pillow to hold me upright, I stare at Giovanni, sprawled out at the bottom of my bed, one arm propped behind his head. He's laughing at an article written about me that he forced me to show him once it was brought up.

"What the fuck? They brought up your clothes. Scar..."

I roll my eyes, trying to get past how great my nickname sounds coming from his lips. "I know."

"I would have sued for defamation."

"My lack of fashion sense doesn't bother me in the slightest like it bothers you all."

He smirks at me, setting the magazine down onto his rippled stomach. "On the contrary, I'm actually growing pretty fond of it."

Oh. "Is that so?"

"It's like unwrapping a present," he jokes, moving towards me. I blush as he grips my hip, caressing the skin generously. "All those layers."

I hit him. "You're ridiculous."

He lies back down with a chuckle, letting me go. It keeps things grounded.

"How's your boss going to handle you taking a day off?"

"He'll most likely be glad. Glad but suspicious."

"Because you don't take time off."

"Especially not during a scandal week."

He grins proudly. "What did you even say to my brother to get him to stay quiet?"

"I told him I had a sex tape of him and her."

Giovanni stares at me, his expression darkened by surprise. "A sex tape? And he believed you? Really?"

I nod. "On the phone, you told me what position you had found them in. I used what I had when I knew he wasn't going to budge. Threats were the only way."

He nods, but it's delayed, and I grow anxious by his lack of response to this.

"Are you not happy with that choice?"

"You are the expert, Scarlett. Not me."

That's a no. I begin to sit up tensely. "You told me to shut it down. That means by whatever means necessary."

He shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling. "I know. I get it."

I focus on his face, waiting for him to speak again. He doesn't, and I'm instantly uncomfortable. Knowing I need to be his publicist right now, I stand up, walking over to fetch my robe from the bathroom.

"On a normal day in my job, there are too many people to count trying to finagle me. In order for me to be good at my job, which I truly believe I am, I have to constantly best those kinds of people in order to get ahead. It's dirty, and I do it for you. I do it for my clients, to try and make their lives easier."

"I'm not saying you made a mistake."

"Because I didn't make one," I reply confidently, tying the sash around my waist with finality.

"I know."

I stop, my gaze firmly on him on the bed. "Then why are you upset?"

He turns his head towards me, his expression unreadable. "Because, as much as I hate it, I still care for her. As much as I should want to hurt her like she has hurt me, knowing that she thinks I'd hold a sex tape over her head, it doesn't make me feel good."

I don't even know what to say to that. I cross my arms, looking down, still sure that the decision I made was the right one, but I'm able to feel enough remorse to understand where he is coming from.