Chapter 19: Chapter 19

FRANCESCA

It’s been three days. Three ~long~ days since I last saw or spoke to Christian.

Part of me wants to run to him, admit I was wrong. But a bigger, more stubborn part of me insists I shouldn’t. After all, I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one who doesn’t understand the concept of privacy.

Today’s Saturday, my first day off from the club. I won’t lie, I was hoping Christian would ask me out again. But so far, nothing.

After a morning stroll around New York, I head back to my new, fancy apartment with a breakfast haul of donuts, bagels, and coffee. I plop down on the couch just as my phone rings.

I’m more excited than I care to admit at the thought of Christian calling. I answer without even checking the caller ID.

“Hello.”

“Good morning. I’m looking for Francesca Barton,” a man’s voice I don’t recognize says.

“This is she,” I reply, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Great. Miss Barton, this is Rodney Martin. I’m calling from Jackson Realty.”

“Okay.”

“I have some good news for you. We’ve sold your father’s house.”

“The house?”

My parents’ house has been on the market since my dad passed away.

Mr. and Mrs. Chambers always thought I was rushing things, but honestly, since my mom died, there weren’t many happy memories left.

It’s been six years since I last saw that house. Six long years of trying to sell it.

“But why would someone want to buy it now?” I ask, voicing my thoughts.

“The buyer wishes to remain anonymous but has offered fifty thousand above your asking price.”

“Fifty?” I gasp, nearly dropping the phone. I quickly do the math in my head, realizing that money could wipe out my debt.

“We need you in Jackson this week to finalize the sale and clear out the house. Can you do that?”

“Oh…yeah, sure. I can make that happen. Thank you!”

I’m still buzzing when I hang up. Grinning, I don’t even worry about the time difference as I dial Leo.

“Cheer?” Leo sounds distracted when he picks up.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No! No, not at all!” I hear some shuffling before Leo comes back to the phone, sounding less distracted. “What’s up, gorgeous?”

“Someone bought my dad’s house!” I practically shout into the phone.

“Seriously? That’s awesome.”

“And they paid fifty more than the asking.”

“Cheer, I’ve been telling you I’d buy that place for years.”

“I couldn’t let you do that for me, QB.”

“I know. But I’m happy for you, Cheer.”

“I’m going to call your parents tonight. I’ll need to stay with them this week while I settle everything and pack up the house.”

“They’ll be happy to have you.”

“Do you think Christian will mind if I miss my second week on the job?”

“If he does, you talk to me.”

“Thanks, QB. Say hi to Beth for me.”

After I hang up with Leo, I call Mr. and Mrs. Chambers and Lily, letting them know I’ll be heading to Jackson.

~I’m going home…~

My heart races at the thought. It’s been so long since I’ve been home. I’ve never had a reason to go back.

Marty doesn’t seem worried when I tell him I need some time off from the club. Now, my only obstacle is Christian De Luca.

Taking a deep breath, I sling my shoulder bag over my shoulder and drape my jacket over my arm.

~Just act casual.~

~Smooth, Frankie.~

I leave my apartment and head next door to the intimidating god in disguise. I knock and wait maybe thirty seconds before the door swings open.

“Miss Barton!” Mrs. Godfrey greets me with a smile. “What brings you here?”

“I was actually looking for Christian.”

Mrs. Godfrey smiles knowingly.

“Mr. De Luca is at the office.”

“On a Saturday?”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but he was in quite a mood when he left this morning.”

I can’t help but smile as Mrs. Godfrey talks about him like he’s a child. My smile fades when I realize I’m the reason for his mood.

“I think that might be my fault.”

“I assumed as much, darling, but it means he cares.”

“I should talk to him,” I say more to myself than to her, and Mrs. Godfrey nods. She sends me off with a Tupperware container full of cookies.

I step out onto the curb and pull on my jacket.

“Miss Barton?” I look up to see Toby standing in front of me.

“Toby?”

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“Well, yes, but what are you doing here?” I ask as Toby guides me toward the waiting limo.

“Mr. De Luca asked that I wait for you.”

“What if I had spent the entire day inside?”

“Then my day would have been quite boring.” Toby shuts my door and walks around to the driver’s side. Once he’s seated, he looks back at me. “So where to?”

“QB,” I say softly, and a smirk appears on Toby’s face. “Don’t say what you’re thinking.”

“Not saying a word.” Amusement flickers in his eyes.

“So, what would you rather be doing with your Saturday?” I ask after a few moments of silence.

“You mean instead of getting paid a ridiculous amount to drive you around New York?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, my wife is seven months pregnant, so this is better than dealing with her cravings and mood swings.”

“Christian must pay you a lot.”

“Guess that’s one way to see it,” Toby grins at me through the rearview mirror.

“How long have you been hitched?”

“Two and a half years.”

“And your wife’s name?”

“Ariel.”

“Like the Little Mermaid!” I exclaim, and Toby chuckles.

“Got the fiery red hair and everything.” Toby winks. “Alright, here we are, Miss Barton.” He pulls the limo up to the curb outside QB.

“Ever gonna call me Francesca?” I ask as he opens my door.

“Doubt it.”

“Have a good day, Toby.”

“You too, Miss Barton.”

I roll my eyes as the automatic double doors swing open. I nod at the security guards on my way to the elevator, which takes me up to Christian’s floor.

The elevator doors slide open, and I’m surprised to see Bridget at her desk.

“Don’t tell me he makes you work every weekend.”

Bridget looks up at me, smiling.

“Only when he’s avoiding something. Usually, I’m just on call over the weekend. Guess I have you to thank for today.” She smirks at me.

“I didn’t think he’d be such a baby about it. I’m here to make things right, and I’ll see if I can get you some time off.”

“That’d be great. Go on in.”

I knock lightly before pushing open his massive office doors.

“Bridget, I said no interruptions,” he grumbles.

“Not Bridget,” I reply softly, and he looks up at me, eyes wide.

“Francesca.”

“I came to say sorry about the other night.”

“Why?”

“I think I was a bit harsh. Cookie?”

“You baked me cookies?”

“Mrs. Godfrey gave them to me when I went to your apartment looking for you.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, kitten.”

Christian walks around his desk and places his hands on my hips.

“I’ve been handling this all wrong. I want to show you how much you mean to me. I’d love to take you out again.”

“You don’t need to spend a fortune on me, Christian.”

“I want to spoil you. Let me worry about the money.”

“But—”

“Can we stop saying sorry, and can I kiss you now?”

“Ye—”

I don’t even finish before Christian’s lips are on mine. He lifts me into his arms without breaking the kiss, and I wrap my legs around his waist.

“Wait,” I mumble against his lips, but he doesn’t slow down as he pushes me against the nearest wall.

“Christian.” I try again, pulling back from the kiss, and I can’t help but moan as he starts kissing my neck. I know I’ll have another set of De Luca hickeys. “Christian. Stop.”

He sighs as he pulls back to look at me. He raises an eyebrow in question.

“Do you actually have work to do? Or were you just sulking?”

“Men don’t sulk, kitten.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” I laugh at him. “Just saying, let Bridget go home, and we can take ~this~ somewhere else.”

He gently sets me down before walking over to his desk and pressing the intercom. He calls Bridget in, and a moment later, his doors open.

“I’m heading home for the day so you can wrap up,” he says, and Bridget shoots me a grateful look.

“And...?” I prompt, wrapping an arm around his waist and snuggling into his side.

“And...” Christian looks at me, confused.

“Tell her she can have the week off,” I whisper in his ear.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Christian exclaims.

“Please. For me,” I murmur softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Christian groans, dragging his hand down his face.

“Bridget, take the week off, fully paid.”

Bridget looks between us, eyes wide.

“Thank you, Mr. De Luca.” Bridget quickly leaves the room, probably afraid he’ll change his mind. Once his office doors close, Christian turns to me.

“You just cost me my assistant for a week.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about a trip.”

“A trip? Kitten, you were the one who thought things were moving too fast.”

“A trip to Jackson, Mississippi. Someone bought my dad’s house, and I need to make sure everything’s settled. I was going to ask for a few days off, but why don’t you come with me.”

“I have meetings.”

“Right, I didn’t think. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea. Forget I mentioned it.”

“But I could make them video conferences if you don’t mind me doing a bit of work on the trip.”

“You’ll come?”

“You’re offering me a whole week with you. How could I say no?”

Christian picks up his phone from the desk and takes my hand, leading me out of his office. Bridget is still packing up her desk as we leave.

“Bridget, one more thing before you go.”

“Yes, Mr. De Luca?”

“Can you let all of next week’s meetings know I’ll be video conferencing and email me my schedule?”

“Video conferencing?”

“Yes.”

“O-of course, sir.”

Christian gives my hand a squeeze as we step into the elevator. Something about his hand in mine makes me feel tingly. I feel secure, safe, and loved.

Toby's face is split wide with a grin when he spots us leaving the building, our hands intertwined. We slide into the limo, and once we're settled, Toby steals a quick look at us through the rearview mirror.

“Where are we headed, sir?”

“Barbetta.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Where are we going?”

“You, my dear, are about to be thoroughly spoiled.”

“Christian.”

“I won’t take no for an answer, Francesca,” he says with a firm tone, and I let out a sigh. “Now, before we reach the restaurant, let me know which hotel you've picked out in Jackson, and I’ll make a few arrangements.”

“Hotel?”

“Yes, where will you be staying?”

“With the Chambers...”