up. There, I said it. Is that what you want to hear? Happy now?”
Dante cocked an eyebrow. Did I hear her right? Lourdes never, ever owned up to her mistakes, even when she was wrong. His ears had to be playing tricks on him.
“None of this would’ve happened if you’d paid for me to have a chauffeured car.”
Cha-ching! Shaking his head, he stared down at his cell phone with disgust. It didn’t matter what the issue was, Lourdes always found a way to make it about money. Up to her neck in debt, she couldn’t afford to maintain her extravagant lifestyle, and she expected him to continue supporting her. Hell, no. Lourdes was spoiled, and he refused to indulge her every whim. Matteo didn’t need a chauffeured car, or three live-in nannies, or any of the other expensive crap she wanted money for. Her monthly alimony check was more than the average person earned in a year, and he wasn’t giving her another dime. “If you want a chauffeured car, then pay for it yourself,” he snapped. “Pick up Matteo on time—”
“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re not the boss of me, and I don’t have to listen to you.”
“This isn’t about me. This is about doing what’s best for our son.”
“You’re not my husband anymore, remember? I dumped you for a real man...”
The insult hit him like a fist to the gut. There were hard feelings on both sides, years of pent-up anger and frustration, but Dante held his tongue. He knew the truth and that was all that mattered. During their marriage, he’d honored his vows, and respected her as his spouse. Unfortunately, Lourdes couldn’t say the same.
“What time are you bringing Matteo home?”
“Why? It’s not like you care about him...” Realizing his mistake, he winced and slammed his mouth shut. It was too late; the damage had been done. The line went dead, and guilt troubled his conscience.
Ending the call, Dante chastised himself for losing his cool. Lourdes brought out the worst in him, always had, but he had no right to disrespect her. He’d apologize later, when he dropped Matteo off, and then he’d have an honest talk with her about his concerns. Lourdes had to do better, had to start putting their son first or... Dante trailed off, couldn’t finish his sentence.
Or what? questioned his inner voice. What are you going to do? Quit your high-paying, jet-setting job and become a stay-at-home dad?
The thought was outrageous, laughable even, but Dante didn’t chuckle. There was nothing funny about his predicament. He was worried about his son’s well-being and needed sound advice. But not from Emilio and Immanuel. His brothers were living the American dream, so happy in love they talked about their significant others nonstop. Dante didn’t want to hear about how wonderful their partners were. Not when Lourdes was making his life a living hell. He had to talk to Markos, and the sooner the better.
On the fourth floor, Dante stopped in front of apartment 4B and rang the buzzer.
The door swung open and Matteo jumped into his arms. “Daddy!”
Chuckling, Dante held him tight and spun him around the hallway.
“Faster, Daddy! Faster!”
Dante obliged, and his son shrieked with laughter. The sound warmed his heart, made him feel like the world’s best dad. Matteo was his number one concern, the only person in his life who truly mattered, and he’d do anything to make him happy. He looked adorable in his navy blue uniform, like the spitting image of his grandfather, but with dark, curly hair.
“Daddy, where’s Mommy? She forgot to pick me up from school today.”
“Mommy’s at home, li’l man. You’ll see her later.”
“Great timing. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Dante put Matteo down and faced Jordana. Her smile blinded him with its light. His pulse sped up. In a city overrun with females addicted to plastic surgery, it was refreshing to see a natural woman. Her beauty boggled his mind, leaving him tongue-tied and weak in the knees. Even in a tie-dye shirt and denim shorts, Jordana was stunning. She looked pretty and youthful in her outfit, and smelled like heaven. She had eyes a man could get lost in, tawny skin dotted with freckles and a shapely physique. Dante loved how lush and thick her hair was, and his hands itched to play in her chocolate-brown curls. She’d been blessed with model features and a banging body, but she wasn’t a snob. Everywhere Jordana went she made friends and men tripped over themselves to meet her. Even A-list celebrities.
“I’m starving,” Dante said, patting his empty stomach. “What’s on the menu?”
“Squash soup, kale-almond salad and chickpea burgers.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I just lost my appetite.”
“Oh, stop. Vegan food is to die for.”
“Yeah, if you’re stranded on a deserted island.”
“You’re not happy unless you’re eating a hundred-dollar steak. But don’t come crying to me the next time we go to a fancy five-star Beverly Hills restaurant and you get chest pains.”
“I didn’t get chest pains because of the food.” Dante winked, flashing her a mischievous grin to make her laugh. “It was that sexy little hostess in the see-through dress. What a hottie!”
Jordana stuck out her tongue, and Dante chuckled. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth, lingering there for a beat. Those are some lips, he thought, wishing they were pressed against his. He liked how plump they were, how moist and juicy they looked.
Catching himself, he tore his eyes away from her face. They were friends and nothing more, and that would never change. Jordana was like a sister to him—
Bullshit! argued his inner voice. Sister, my ass! You want her bad, and the only reason you haven’t made a play for her is because she’s still in love with her ex.
“Dad, can we stay for dinner? Please?” Matteo begged. “I just love cheeseburgers.”
“That depends. Were you a good boy for Jordana?”
“No,” she said sadly, shaking her head. “He was horrible.”
“He was?”
“Yup. The worst.”
Dante spoke in a stern voice. “You have some explaining to do, young man.”
Eyes wide with alarm, Matteo glanced frantically from his dad to Jordana. “I didn’t mean to spill grape juice on the carpet,” he said, shuffling his feet. “It was an accident, but I cleaned it up right away. Tell him, Jordana. Tell my dad I was a good boy.”
“You weren’t good,” she said, ruffling his curly hair. “You were great.”
Matteo cheered. “Dad, did you bring me something back from King Kong?”
“I went to Hong Kong,” Dante said with a laugh. “King Kong is a character in a movie.”
“Oops!” Giggling, he spun around and took off running back inside the apartment.
Jordana
