sat up and faced him. He angled his thumb toward the back of the plane. “And pillows.”
She unbuckled her seat belt and rose. “Thanks.”
She walked to the cupboard, but she didn’t open it. Her hand hovered over the door knob. “Would you like one?”
“No. I’m working.”
She nodded and returned to her seat with a pillow and a blanket. She turned off the light above her, reclined her seat and nestled into her covers.
She closed her eyes and took three long, calming breaths, but they didn’t help. She couldn’t imagine how someone went from being a foster kid to being a billionaire. She had had help from her parents, but still couldn’t live in New York City on her meager salary without roommates. Starting at the bottom, she had absolutely no idea how to climb the ladder from where she was now to where he was now.
And that’s what she wanted. To be somebody. So that when she went back to Starlight everybody would see she hadn’t needed to fake an attack to extort money from Cord Dawson. She had always had the talent and drive to be successful on her own.
She sat up, swiveled to face him. “So how does somebody go from being a foster child to owning all this?”
He didn’t even look up. “Perseverance.”
“There’s got to be more to it than that.”
“There isn’t.”
“It’s not like I wouldn’t understand. I’m pretty smart and I really want this. Plus, it’s not like anything you’d say would shock me. I had a friend who was a foster child. And I also had some really crappy things happen to me at university.”
* * *
He knew she had. He remembered she’d been sued for slander. Even though the kid had dropped the suit, she’d probably been terrified.
He twirled his pencil between his fingers. He shouldn’t talk. He should keep everything between them strictly professional, but she’d opened the door and curiosity about that “something” about her wouldn’t allow him to let the opportunity to ask her a few questions pass. If she wanted to know his secrets, first she’d share hers. “I know about the lawsuit filed against you three years ago.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“Like Constanzo, I go the extra mile with people who are going to know my business.”
She said nothing, but her face had gone pasty white.
“I understand the kid dropped the suit, but it would still be very difficult to be nineteen and have somebody sue you.”
She nodded.
“So what happened?”
“Happened?”
“No twenty-year-old boy files a slander law suit without good reason. So whatever you said, it had to have been a doozy.”
Her chin lifted. “I told the truth.”
“Then it couldn’t have been slander.”
“I couldn’t prove what I said.”
“Oh.” He caught Olivia’s gaze. “But it was true?”
She nodded.
“Which was probably why he dropped the suit. He didn’t want to risk that you’d find a way to prove it.”
“Oh, he knew I couldn’t.”
Curiosity spiked again, and he nearly kept going, so intrigued about her that the work in front of him had lost its appeal. But he suddenly realized he was comfortable, talking about personal things—the kind of things he never talked about with anybody, especially not an employee.
He’d already decided he didn’t want to be attracted to her, so what was he doing getting to know her?
“Why don’t you try to sleep while I do some work? This trip to Italy is going to cost me a hundred other things if I don’t get my ducks in a row now. So no more talking.”
“Okay.”
She turned around and he forced his attention back to work. Work had made him who he was today. He didn’t need conversation. He didn’t need family. He needed only to be the best he could be.
* * *
Tucker Engle’s plane landed at Constanzo Bartulocci’s private airstrip in the Italian countryside. A driver waited by a white limo and they headed for Constanzo’s villa.
Vivi stared out the window in awe. A sea of green grass flowed to mountains. The sky was the bluest blue she’d ever seen, hovering over the grassy slopes like a benevolent blue god. “This is gorgeous.”
Pulling a document from his briefcase, Tucker said, “Italy’s a beautiful country.”
She almost asked if he always worked but she knew the answer to that. Of course, he did. Now that he’d told her he’d been a foster child, so many things about him made sense. Just as she saw success as a way to vindicate herself, he probably saw it as a way to prove his value to a world that hadn’t wanted him. It was why he’d flown to Italy in a black suit, white dress shirt and black-and-silver striped tie, while she’d worn plain trousers and a yellow shirt. He never stopped. Never relaxed. Everything was work to him.
And she supposed she had her answer for how he’d climbed his way from foster child to billionaire. He worked all the time.
They arrived at Constanzo’s country villa and Vivi nearly broke her neck looking around, trying to see everything at once. Trees and shrubbery provided privacy. Lush green grass bordered stone walks that took them to the front door of a stone house that could have been hundreds of years old but had been updated.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Wearing dress pants and a short-sleeved shirt, open at the neck, Constanzo greeted them in the foyer. A colorful tile stairway with a black iron railing led to the second floor. Antique tables along the walls held vases of fresh flowers. Though the house was big, it wasn’t the stuffy mansion Vivi had expected a billionaire to live in. Beautiful and colorful, it was also homey.
Constanzo hugged Vivi then Tucker. “My staff is putting your things in your rooms. Would you like time to freshen up?”
Vivi yawned. “Actually, I’d like a nap. I couldn’t sleep on the plane.” Her brain had been so jumpy she hadn’t been able to relax. So she’d pulled her book out of her purse and read for most of the flight.
Constanzo laughed. “Vivi, Vivi. The best way to get accustomed to a new time zone is to pretend your body is already on our time.”
“I’ve been up twenty-four hours! I’ll never make it.”
Constanzo put his arm around her shoulder. “Of course, you will. It’ll be bedtime here before you know it.” He led her up the winding staircase. “Take a shower, put on fresh clothes. Something comfortable like jeans and I’ll show you around. We’ll
