Tuscany Nights: Italian Billionaire Second Chance Romance, page 1
Copyright
Tuscany Nights
Copyright © 2021 Kate J. Blake
All rights reserved.
Editing by:
Aquila Editing
Cover Designer:
German Creative
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Contents
Tuscany Nights
Copyright
About the Author
About the Book
One Month Only
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
One Month More
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
One Month Forever
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
About the Author
Kate J. Blake is a contemporary & erotic romance author who had the courage to quit her day job as a fashion consultant to write stories about strong women and brave alpha men.
Kate travels the world a lot and describes those adventures in her books; she's a big fan of multicultural romance novels.
Kate lives with her real-life hero and their chubby sweet cat. She's addicted to coffee and reads between three to five books a week.
She loves hearing from her readers:
www.katejblake.com
www.instagram.com/katejblakebooks
www.pinterest.com/katejblakebooks
About the Book
Ricardo
My life was perfect. I was reaching my goals one by one becoming more and more successful. Money was pouring in as if I was a damn King. Women were willing to do anything to please me.
Everything worked just fine for me until a chance meeting with her—Angelica Sorreno—when she came back into my life.
She asked me for help and I agreed, but only because we were friends, and not because I used to have feelings for her.
Her charm doesn't work on me anymore. I know I'll stay unshakable like a rock.
Will I?
Angelica
I never wanted to become an Italian billionaire's toy. I just needed help to save my company from bankruptcy. But sometimes you get even more than what you were asking for.
Ricardo not only helped with his money and connections but also gave me the other kind of pleasures, the ones I never knew I needed.
But he never promised me anything, and I never asked for more. There's only one problem: I think I have already fallen in love with him...
"Tuscany Nights" is a complete trilogy with no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a beautiful happy ever after guaranteed.
Chapter One
Angie
“I hope you didn’t get that ugly mark on your body,” Chiara says reproachfully when I pick up the phone and I breathe a sigh of relief: she’s not mad at me anymore; she’s just a stubborn older sister again.
We fought yesterday because the guy I went on a date with, a tattoo artist, offered to do one for me because when we first met I lied and said I like them. Of course I had to agree and I foolishly told my sister about it when she called me. She said I should grow up and stop lying, and I told her I was gonna get that damn tattoo and hung up the phone.
“I would really like to tell you that I did it, but, unfortunately, no, I didn’t dare,” I confess, getting into my car and turning on the engine. It’s so freaking cold outside and I’m freezing.
I’m waiting for her response, for her I told you so lecture, but she stays quiet.
“You can start now,” I say, unable to stand the silence.
“What?” Chiara asks, pretending she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“Oh, please, you know what! Start telling me that you were right and I was wrong and other stuff I don’t like to hear but you’ll say it anyway.”
She exhales loudly. She does this every time I say something that pisses her off.
“You already know that I was right,” she says, to my surprise, very calmly, “Why did you agree to date him in the first place?”
It’s my turn to exhale loudly.
“I don’t know, I’m probably just afraid because I’m almost thirty and I’m still single,” I mumble, not sure if it’s true. It’s not like I really worry about being thirty and single. It’s more that I’m definitely the kind of girl who wants her happy ever after.
“Angie, you are a gorgeous, smart and independent woman. You don’t need to be in a relationship to feel complete!” She says exactly what I want to hear. She’s my sister, she knows what I need. “You will find a good guy when you stop pretending,” she adds at the end, and that’s not what I want to hear.
“What do you mean?” I ask, slightly offended. “I never pretend, I hate that. I never say I graduated from Harvard or speak sixteen languages or that I know how to cook, that’s pathetic!”
“Yes, but you’re always pretending you like things you really don’t,” she insists, and I feel a strong desire to hang up the phone just like I did yesterday. Whoever said the older sister is always the boss?
“I only said I like tattoos so as not to upset him, because he’s an artist,” I try to justify myself.
“Angie, you know what I mean: you always pretend. Do you remember Domenic? You told him you’d be happy to travel Europe by car when he offered, and you continued lying even after he rented a motor home and booked campsites along the road. You cancelled everything at the last minute, pretending you were sick! And how about that guy you met at the bar who played saxophone? You said you love jazz and you dumped him right after…”
I’m not listening to her anymore. Am I really pretending all the time? I’ve always thought I just don’t know what I want and I enjoy trying new things. Yes, sometimes I lie on purpose, but only in an attempt to spare people’s feelings, and I always plan to tell the truth when we know each other better. It's not my fault that it never comes to this.
It all began in high school: I lied and said I liked football because my first boyfriend was a goalkeeper. Then I lied about loving horror movies because I dated a goth. I was pretending I was vegan when I fell for my yoga teacher and I still pretend I love sushi when someone asks because everybody loves it, but the truth is that I’ve never even tried it.
* * *
I think about it long after we finish our conversation, while driving from home to work. Dad’s waiting for me at the office. He said he wants to talk. I guess he wants to tell me he’s gonna propose to his girlfriend, Valentina. I’m not sure she can be called his “girlfriend” when she’s a fifty-two-year-old woman. They’ve been together for almost two years and she’s already moved in with him. After Mom’s death fourteen years ago I was afraid he was always going to be alone, so I’m glad he’s happy now and I totally support him if he wants to marry her.
My parents established a small atelier about thirty years ago and it grew into one of the largest cashmere manufacturers in Europe. After Mom’s death it was the only reason why my dad didn’t fall apart: he knew he had responsibilities to his employees, so he needed to work hard.
I’ve been working in this company since I graduated college. I specialize in marketing and I really enjoy what I do. I hope we’ll make it the largest cashmere manufacturer in the world someday.
“No, you don’t understand, it’s not enough. One and a half million is nothing for a company this size… Yes, I know it’s in a crisis now, but still… We have to find another buyer… Yes, I’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll call you then…okay, bye.”
What is he talking about? Is he trying to buy a company? No, if so he wouldn’t be upset it’s too cheap. That means he’s trying to sell…our company?
I feel I’m losing the ground under my feet. Is that what he wanted to tell me?
Without knocking, I open the door abruptly and find Dad sitting at his desk. He flinches a little from surprise.
“Are you selling our company?” I ask, raising my voice.
His mouth opens and closes from bewilderment. For a couple of seconds he keeps quiet, probably hesitating in telling me, but I continue staring at him without even blinking. This is my signature trick to get what I want. I learnt it in primary school when he refused to give me candy.
“Yes, I’m about to sell our company.” He finally gives up.
“Why?” I ask quieter and take a seat in front of him.
“This company doesn’t pay for itself. I’ve tried to prevent this, I even took out a loan, but still, according to my calculations, we can never pay it back if we don’t sell the company,” he says, and I can see he’s upset, but he speaks so surely, he’s probably been thinking about it for a long time.
“How did this happen? We have so many clients, all the main fashion designers in Italy work with us, we even decline so many offers!” I say in a trembling voice.
I cannot believe it. How could this happen? How could I not notice that something was wrong?
“Yes, darling,” he continues, “we do have important clients, and luckily we can still pay our employees’ salaries because of that, but, for example, we had to reject Giorgio’s last offer to make twenty-thousand copies for his other line…”
“That’s because he wanted half cashmere, half wool!” I interrupt. “He wanted the price to be cheaper, but we don’t do wool, only pure cashmere!”
“Yes, but it’s not really comfortable for people to work with different factories: they want to get it all from one company.” Dad speaks quietly, probably to calm me down.
“So let’s expand the company!” I raise my voice as if he didn’t hear me.
“We can’t do that, we don’t have money. I already cut costs by twenty percent and people have to work longer hours, but we still have to reject offers every day because we are overbooked,” he continues, not paying attention to my yelling.
“So, you’re saying that we are fully booked, but we still can’t afford to expand the company? How is that possible?”
“Because new factories open every day! A new Chinese manufacturer at the corner has employees whose salaries are twice as low as ours. Their factory works twenty-four-seven, even on holidays, while our employees take month-long vacations in August and January. We just can’t compete with them without changes. In addition, we reject offers like Giorgio’s. It’s bad for business.”
I sit quietly for some time, trying to process the information. My head starts pounding and I’m suddenly hit by a wave of tiredness, I swear I could fall asleep on the floor right now. My mind probably wants to fall asleep because it hopes that after I wake up, this nightmare will have disappeared.
“So what do we do now? Just sell it?” I ask, and my eyes start filling with tears. I can’t believe it’s happening.
“Tomorrow I have a dinner with my friend Gianluco Brandini, the one who loaned me the money. His son, Ricardo, has come back from London and I asked him to help me find a buyer. He knows a lot of influential people.”
Ricardo Brandini was Chiara’s classmate and had a crush on her in high school. Everyone in Tuscany knows about him; he’s our local legend. His father, Gianluco, owned a small vineyard for decades and sold wine only to local restaurants, and then Ricardo became CEO of their company and expanded their business so much that now they sell their wine all over the world and the business is valued in the millions.
“I’ll go with you,” I say confidently.
I won’t let them sell our company. I’m gonna ask Ricardo for advice on what to do to save it. He got into the Forbes list of richest Italians last year—he should know what to do. I’m not ready to give up that easily.
Chapter Two
Ricardo
“Yes, you definitely should go with Dad!” Vi exclaims loudly and smiles slyly at me.
“Absolutely!” Fran adds, just as enthusiastically. “Moreover, how can you say no to Mom after what she’s been through?”
Great, now they’re blackmailing me.
I give them a disapproving look. Even though we’re grownups now, these two still drive me crazy, exactly like they used to when we were kids. It’s too hard to have two little sisters and not let them manipulate you.
“Mom, are you serious about all that? You know I’ll be back in London in a month,” I say, hoping for common sense, because this idea of a blind date is simply insane.
My dad is gonna meet his old friend Pierpaolo Sorreno tomorrow to talk about selling Pierpaolo's company, which he asked me to help with a couple of months ago. I thought that I would just give all the papers to my father and they would discuss everything alone. But when Dad said that Pierpaolo's daughter Angelica was gonna be there too, Mom decided that I should also go and ask her for a date. Mom still dreams about me falling in love with an Italian girl and returning to Tuscany to live our happy ever after here. Of course, it’ll never happen and even if I do ever fall in love, she would have to move to London to be with me. There’s no other way.
“It's just a business meeting, and please don’t remind me about your going back to London or I’m gonna cry.” Mom dramatically puts her right hand on her chest and looks at me with her eyes full of hope.
Oh, now I know from whom the girls have learned to be so cunning: Mom is probably the greatest actress in the world.
“Okay.” I give up and she smiles. Fran was right: I can’t say no to her, especially after she had heart surgery and now lies on a hospital bed in front of us.
My sisters start applauding.
“Don’t expect too much,” I warn, looking at them, but it seems like they don’t hear me because they start giggling.
“We’re not expecting anything, I only wish to see you happy someday,” Mom says, smiling widely and taking me by the hand. “You’re turning thirty-two this month and you’ve never had a serious relationship in your entire life. That’s awful, honey, because, you know what? When the ambulance was driving me to the hospital, the only thought that was flowing through my mind then was that I can’t die because I haven’t seen my grandchildren yet!” Her eyes fill with tears and I feel a little pain inside me. I don’t know how I’ll live if that ever happens.
I come closer to her bed and take her by the hand, squeezing it tightly.
“Don’t even think about it, Mom,” I say, looking into her eyes, “You’re gonna live a long and happy life. You’re gonna see all of your grandchildren’s weddings.”
I’m not even sure if I ever want to have kids, but this whole situation with her surgery scared the hell out of me and that’s why I’m gonna say and do everything that can make her feel better.
“Why don’t you ask these two to give you grandchildren?” I ask, pointing to my sisters, and they both round their eyes at the same time.
“We’re younger than you—that means you go first,” says Vi and shows me a fist as a sign that I shouldn’t mess with her or I’ll regret it.
“By the way, you were in love with this girl in high school, so maybe she’s your destiny,” adds Fran and she gives me sly squint. They’re both so cunning: they easily change the subject every time I try to talk about their personal lives.
“Were you really in love with her?” Mom asks and looks at me with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. Great, now these two have given my mother hope that I’m gonna date this girl or something.
“I liked her when I was a teen, that doesn’t even count. Teenagers can’t control their hormones. They weren’t real feelings. I’m sure she has changed a lot since then. I probably won’t even recognize her,” I say, as if making excuses.
