Chapter 9: Chapter 9

FRANCESCA

When I return from work, I find a third eviction notice tacked to my apartment door. The building has been under some serious renovations since a new owner took over while I was in London.

Five months have passed since Leo’s wedding, and I’ve been notified about the rent hikes multiple times. But I keep shoving it to the back of my mind.

This apartment is perfect. I’ve lived here since college and I can’t imagine living anywhere else.

It was a steal when I first moved in, but now the rent is nearly double. I yank the notice off the door and step into my apartment.

~I need to find a new place soon.~

Marty, my boss, offered me more shifts when he heard about my situation. I’m grateful, but it still won’t be enough.

I’m not completely ignoring the problem; I’ve started packing up my stuff, though there isn’t much to pack. I even picked up some boxes during a grocery run yesterday.

I drop the eviction notice and my purse on the floor by the door and head straight for the shower. Afterward, I pull on some sweats and tie my hair up into a messy bun.

With a sigh, I plug in my headphones and start some music on my phone, then get back to packing.

I got home from work at two in the morning, and by six, my entire apartment is packed into two duffle bags and seven boxes. I collapse onto the couch, too exhausted to move, and fall asleep without even realizing it.

“I’ve missed you, gattina.”

I sit up on the couch to see Christian walking toward me.

~How did he get in?~ ~I locked the door, didn’t I?~

Christian approaches me with that sexy, infuriating smirk on his face, and my breath catches in my throat.

I remember our kiss five months ago, and my knees go weak, craving more, needing more.

As he gets closer, my skin starts to tingle with anticipation. I want to reach out and pull him to me, but I’m frozen in place.

“Christian.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Tell me what you want, kitten,” he growls, and I shiver.

“You. Please. I need—”

“Be more specific, kitten. What do you want me to do?”

His smirk widens as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and runs his thumbs down my cheek to my lip. He gently pulls my lip free from my bottom teeth.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Christian, please, I—”

The sound of a phone ringing cuts me off, and my eyes snap open. Sunlight is pouring in through the living room window, and Christian is nowhere to be seen.

~It was just a dream!~

I groan and roll onto my stomach. I’m left feeling completely unsatisfied, and it’s the fourth time this week.

My phone rings again, and I check the time. It’s almost noon, which means I’ve had a decent amount of sleep.

I answer the phone, pressing it to my ear. “Hi, it’s Frankie,” I say, trying to sound awake even though my voice is still thick with sleep.

“Kitten.”

Just hearing his voice makes my insides clench. My cheeks flush, remembering the dream I just had, and I’m grateful he’s only on the phone and not standing in front of me.

“Hi,” I say softly, and Christian chuckles.

“You already said that.”

“Why are you calling me?”

“Honestly, Francesca? I’ve missed you.”

My heart flutters at his confession.

~He missed me.~

I can’t help but smile. Christian and I haven’t seen each other since Leo’s wedding, but that was my choice, not his. I needed to get over my attraction to him. We’re just too different.

~I bet he’s never had to worry about being evicted.~

“Kitten?”

“I’m still here. But I’m not sure I believe you. I bet you’ve found plenty of women to keep your bed warm.”

The words slip out before I can stop them.

“Francesca.” Christian’s voice is stern.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” I say softly.

“I’m calling because I’m coming home in two days. I have some business to take care of, but I’d like to see you in between.”

Christian has been in London on business, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss him.

“Christian—”

“Don’t even think about canceling or I’ll show up outside your apartment with a boom box.”

“Do they even make boom boxes anymore?”

“Francesca.”

“Okay. Tell me when and where, and I’ll make sure I’m not working.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“No. I’ll meet you,” I say quickly, not sure where I’ll be living in two days.

“If you’re sure, kitten. I’ll make some calls, and my assistant will confirm with you later.”

~Assistant.~ I roll my eyes mentally.

“How are Leo and Beth?” I ask, curious since he’s been staying with them for the past month.

“They’re good. Leo is working too much for a newlywed, but he won’t listen to me... he asked about you.” Christian adds the last part softly.

Leo and I didn’t part on the best terms. Our friendship changed forever after we confessed our feelings.

I think I’ll always love Leo, but knowing he once felt the same way changed everything.

It made me question every decision I’ve ever made about our friendship.

It made me question other relationships.

I needed to keep my distance. Beth is wonderful and she’s truly happy with Leo. I don’t want to be the one to ruin that.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. But he won’t tell me what happened either.”

“Well, it’s really none of your business.”

“Your happiness is my priority, and I hate to see you upset,” Christian tells me, making my heart flutter. I hear a door creaking open in the background and a woman’s voice I don’t recognize.

“Mr. De Luca, I apologize for the interruption, but your father is on the line.”

“Tell him I’ll call back.”

“He insists it’s urgent, sir.”

“Bridget, I don’t pay you to argue with me.”

“Understood, sir, but—”

“Christian, take the call. I’ll see you in a few days,” I interrupt, worried about his assistant’s job.

“You have no idea how much that means to me, kitten. I’ll have Bridget call you with the details.”

He hangs up before I can say goodbye, as if he’s still afraid I might change my mind. I slump back on the couch, my gaze landing on the stacked boxes in the corner.

With a sigh, I pick up my phone again, sending a quick text to my boss. He offered me more shifts, which means more money, but what good is money if I end up homeless?

***

“Frankie, get the door!”

I do as I’m told, and in walks Marty, my boss from the club, followed by James, the bartender, and Rick, the bouncer.

“What are you guys—”

“Where’s your stuff?” Marty interrupts in a gruff voice.

“What?”

“You said you were being evicted. We’re here to move your stuff.”

“Guys, that’s really sweet, and I appreciate it”—I truly do, considering I only left Marty a message an hour ago—“but I don’t have a new place yet.”

“That’s taken care of. I’ve got a spare room for you, Cheer,” James says, winking at me.

“But—”

“No buts! Let us help you, Francesca,” Marty insists, his voice firm and his eyes kind.

“Thank you,” I whisper, fighting back tears.

I watch the boys load my stuff into Rick’s van, and we drive to James’s apartment.

Candy sends me a message of love after Marty tells her what’s happening. She scolds me for not telling her sooner about my situation.

Rick pulls to a stop, and the boys get out to start unloading. I realize we’re at the club.

“I thought you said I was moving in with James?” I ask, and Marty points to the apartment building next to the club. It’s sleek and stylish and way out of my price range.

“Fancy, huh?” James says, winking at me as he walks past with a box.

“Marty, there’s no way I can afford this.”

“Neither can James. That’s why he needs a roommate. Plus, staff get a discount. The apartment block and the club were just bought by a new owner.

“He wants to be more involved and see how we operate; he also wants to make sure his employees have homes.

“I won’t let New York chew you up and spit you out, Cheer.” Marty pulls me into a fatherly hug.

~In some ways, I think it already has.~

***

Two hours later, I’m getting ready for work after unpacking my stuff into James’s spare room when my phone rings.

I ignore it at first, needing to finish my makeup before my shift. When it keeps ringing, I hear James answer it for me.

“Frankie’s phone… Sure, hold on, I’ll get her.” He pushes open the bathroom door and hands me the phone. “Cheer.”

“Thanks, James.” I take the phone from him and press it to my ear. “This is Francesca.”

“Miss Barton. My name is Bridget Daniels. I’m the personal assistant for Mr. De Luca of QB Enterprises and De Luca Corp.”

“Hi, Bridget, what can I do for you?”

“I’m just confirming your dinner with Mr. De Luca on Sunday night. He’s made a reservation at Del Posto for eight.”

“Del Posto?” I ask, dropping my makeup brush.

“Yes, on Tenth Avenue. If that’s not to your liking, I’m sure Mr. De Luca can arrange something else.”

“No, no. That’s fine. Thank you, Bridget.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Barton. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but the man who answered your phone, what’s your relationship with him?”

“He’s my roommate.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Bridget laughs. “I’d hate to have to tell Mr. De Luca anything else.”

I laugh along with her, remembering how Christian pulled me away from Beth’s cousin Ben at Leo’s wedding.

“Don’t worry, Bridget, I can handle Christian.”

Bridget and I say our goodbyes, and I immediately look up the restaurant; as expected, Del Porto is one of the most expensive restaurants in New York.

~Different worlds.~

“Hey, Cheer! Let’s go!” James yells from the living room, and after applying some more mascara and red lipstick, I put on my trench coat and head out to meet him.

The next two days fly by. Between my extra shifts at the club, including the less glamorous daytime shift, before I know it, it’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m leaving the club with Candy on my arm.

We both pull our trench coats tight around our bodies to cover up the skimpy clothes underneath.

“So, remind me again how you got out of tonight’s shift?” Candy asks.

“I’m Marty’s favorite,” I reply, sticking out my tongue.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that. What are you doing tonight anyway?”

“I, uh…I have a date.” I wince, bracing myself for Candy’s reaction.

“What?” Candy shrieks, drawing the attention of a few people on the sidewalk outside the club. “Where? With who?”

“Uh, a guy I met at Leo’s wedding. He’s taking me to Del Porto.”

“Huh?”

“Candy, for real, you need a new word.”

“So, what are you planning to wear?”

“I’m not sure, I think I’ll just—”

“You think? You don’t just think when you’re going on a date at the fanciest Italian restaurant in New York. You dress to impress.”

“Candy, I can barely cover my rent.”

“It’ll be worth it. Let’s go.”

Before I can protest, I find myself feeling like a fish out of water on Fifth Avenue. She drags me into Saks, and I cringe, knowing a stripper has no business being in this store.

“Candy, we really shouldn’t—”

“Hush!” She keeps dragging me towards the women’s section. My phone vibrates in my trench coat pocket, and I pull it out to answer. A smile spreads across my face when I see Christian’s name on the screen.

“Isn’t it a bit too eager to call a girl a few hours before the date?”

“At least you’re admitting it’s a date, kitten,” Christian says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. “What are you up to?”

“Is this one of those ‘what are you wearing’ calls?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“Christian.”

“I’m just curious, Francesca.”

“I just got off work, and now my friend has dragged me shopping to find something to wear tonight. Apparently, none of my options were good enough.”

“You always look stunning.”

“Make sure you tell her that when I introduce you, okay? Anyway, I’m in a store I shouldn’t even be window shopping at, about to try on clothes I can’t afford.”

“Where?”

“Saks, Fifth Avenue.”

“Looks like you’re going for the best.”

“Her choice, not mine.”

“I’ll let you get back to your shopping, then. I can’t wait to see you, gattina. I hope you like Italian.”

“So far, I seem to,” I say, trying to flirt.

“See you soon, kitten.”

“Bye, Christian.”

I’m still smiling as I end the call, and I walk over to where Candy is rifling through some extravagant ball gowns. I shoot down a lot of her choices before we’re interrupted by a sales associate.

~Here we go, the ~Pretty Woman~ moment.~

“Excuse me, ladies, is one of you Francesca Barton?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” I say awkwardly, raising my hand like I’m in school.

“Miss Barton, let me show you our exclusive collection.”

“Oh, really, it’s fine. I—”

“Please, I insist. We have instructions to ensure you’re well taken care of. Whatever you choose, dress, shoes, accessories, it’s all been paid for.”

“Wait, what? By who?” I ask, but I’m already piecing it together in my head.

“Mr. De Luca just called.”

~Of course he did.~