Jealous Italian (Jealous Psycho Book 7) by Lena Little

Author:Lena Little [Little, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-29T18:30:00+00:00

8

Mary

“Un secondo, papà,” Massimo says, responding in Italian to the man’s English.

But not just any man. His father. And he knows there’s an English speaker in here, which is why he addressed us in my native tongue.

This is not how I want to make a first impression. Not. At. All.

Massimo moves to the door, somehow sliding his big body around it and into the other room.

A sigh of relief escapes me at the embarrassment I was about to face.

Dressing as quickly as I can I fumble with my phone, seeing a WhatsApp message has arrived…from Luciano.

Where are you? Saw you on TV then you went completely dark. Call me. I’m worried.

I tap my foot and stare at the message. Luciano is responsible for my internship, and my boss and I report to him, despite the events of the day.

On the other hand, if I text him will it cause a problem for Massimo?

What can Luciano do for me, if anything? Massimo dominated him at the hotel in Milan, not to mention it was Luciano’s idea to try and pull off this stunt.

I was all for it and take responsibility for my actions. You don’t get to be a good reporter, especially not quickly, unless you’re willing to take risks and break the huge stories.

That was the plan until it backfired.

Now I have a story of my own. One that all of the country and probably a lot of the world would like to read about.

Just think of the spin. A family that produces olive oil in a remote part of Italy, yet seemingly has their hands in everything. And definitely not always in a nice way. They look like Warren Buffett to the casual observer when they’re really the Wolf of Wall Street.

Finally, my fingers start moving. I’m okay. Thank you for checking in. Kinda crazy right now. Will text when I can.

Almost immediately he responds. Thank God. Thought something happened to you. You know how much you mean to us all, especially me.

Then I watch three dots as he types a new message. My mind wanders to how I felt about him, our flirtatious behavior, and a possible budding summer romance, although probably not. Logic would have taken over and I would have shut it down.

Why didn’t logic take over with Massimo? And looking back, how was I even the slightest bit attracted to Luciano in the first place? Now that I’ve been around Massimo there’s just no comparison. All other men, even actual adult men with jobs, homes, and responsibilities are like boys. They don’t measure up.

Despite having the same anatomy it’s not even an apples-to-apples comparison.

The three dots finish and the message comes through.

If you’re still with him you’re sitting on the story of the century. Get what information you can and then get back here. I’ll help you put the story together. Guaranteed talk of Italy. Good luck.

I just stare at the message. Do I even matter, as a person?

And what’s worse I probably thought the exact same way when I left my apartment this morning.

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