“Do you like it?” he asks, expressionless.
“Like what?”
“The suite.” He looks around the room then returns his gaze to me.
“Oh yes, it’s incredible.”
“Good, I’m glad you like it. Happy birthday,” he says, remaining stoic.
Wait, what? Now I have to ask.
“Nicco, did you get this suite for my birthday?” I cringe inside, unsure I should be asking because it might sound presumptive.
“Yes,” he says flatly as Barry lines up the shots in front of Candi.
She passes out the shots and spins my stool so I’m facing the group that is now gathered in a circle around us. I fumble around with the fabric of my jumpsuit, trying to cover my exposed legs but nothing’s working.
“Happy birthday to my best friend in the entire world,” she says as she raises her shot glass into the center of the circle and everyone follows suit. “Cheers!”
“Cheers!” everyone shouts in unison and we toss back our shots.
Giovanna’s position in the circle is straight in front of me and I catch her send a fake smile with a sort of side-nod in my direction. I don’t know if it’s meant for me or Nicco.
“Okay, what can I get everyone to drink tonight?” Barry asks as we start putting our empty shot glasses on the bar.
I spin myself back toward the bar and Candi orders us s’mores martinis.
Nicco waits until everyone has ordered. When Barry makes eye contact with him, he smiles. “Do you have a Macallan whiskey on hand?”
Barry gives him a discerning nod. “We do, sir. Coming right up.”
The buzz of chatter from the group grows and I look up at Nicco.
“Nicco, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.” That’s it. That’s all he says.
“While Barry gets our drinks, let’s get a group shot,” Candi says, walking over to a tufted dark red leather sofa, in a grouping of four that are arranged in an open square against a wall covered in a black-on-black damask print.
Nicco sits at one end of the sofa and Candi ushers me in next to him then sits on the other side of me followed by two more people. Giovanna plants herself on the arm of the sofa, next to Nicco. I struggle with the damn jumpsuit fabric again and Nicco grabs my hand.
“It’s useless. Leave it.” The man’s expressionless face is infuriating. Because of his reputation, I keep thinking he has sex-on-the-brain, but I might be entirely wrong. Maybe he’s trying to help me feel less uncomfortable. I don’t get it.
“Nope, hold on. There’s too many of us. We need to squeeze in. Lily, you sit on Shawn’s lap.” She waves in their direction. “And Fiona, you sit on the arm like Gigi’s doing.” She looks to either side of her. “Almost. Des, you’re in Nicco’s lap.”
Before I can object, his large hands are around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. My stomach quivers. Giovanna’s now looming above me, my stomach winds tighter. With Nicco’s arm around my waist, his hand naturally falls to the top of my bare thigh, sending warmth through my body. His other arm is around Candi’s shoulders.
Roy stands in front of us, ready to take our picture with his cell phone.
“Wait. Roy, I want you in the picture too. Hey, Barry,” Candi calls out. “Can you come take our picture quickly?”
All I can think about is Nicco’s hand on my thigh and I want this picture taken and over. I’m sure he’s very used to touching women’s bare thighs so it doesn’t faze him in the least, but this woman’s thighs aren’t used to being touched and certainly not by the extremely hot Niccolo Mancini.
Barry comes out from behind the bar and takes Roy’s phone as Roy sits on the floor in the middle of the group.
“Okay. 1, 2, 3.” Barry snaps several pictures.
“Stay where you are,” Roy instructs us as he gets up and takes his phone to check the pictures.
