Rallenti Read online

  Renaldo smiled. The jade goddess looked uncomfortable. He could hear her jubilant voice over the others at first. Now she sat silent with her drink in her hand.

  “Can I speak with you?”

  Renaldo looked over to see Tate had left the others and come his way. If he hadn’t been so focused on Kyra he would have been aware of Tate’s approach. This is why he never let women distract him. He should always maintain focus. He nodded to Mr. Tate that he would listen to what he had to say right where the man stood. He knew of Tate’s connection to Don Mancini in Sicily and didn’t trust the bastard.

  The man loosened his tie. He perspired as if he’d just left a sauna. And his face was flushed with his internal heat. “I want a conversation with your boss,” Tate stated.

  Renaldo arched a brow.

  “Ugh, Giovanni Battaglia. I’d like to have a conversation, a sit down, you know meeting with him. I’ve made several attempts to contact Mirabella and she isn’t returning my calls.” He combed his hand back through his hair. “I think it’s customary that I go through him? Right? A respect thing with you Italians?”

  “Sicilian,” Renaldo said through clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, yeah, right. Sicilian. I placed a call to him but he hasn’t responded.” Tate looked back at Catalina and Marietta who seemed engrossed in what the employees were sharing. “Can you help me?”

  “I will deliver the message.”

  Mr. Tate sighed. “Grazie. Thank you.” He walked off. Kyra rose from her seat on the sofa. She walked away from the women, stopping to speak with a few of the clusters of people gathered. She eventually made her way toward him with her drink in hand. A server approached her and she scanned the samples on his silver tray. She began to pick cheese and small pastries to nibble.

  She glanced up to Renaldo as she popped one in her mouth. After chewing and licking those lips he’d love to suck she approached him. “Are you hungry?”

  Renaldo smiled. She was indeed flirting.

  “Don’t they let you eat? Or do you just stand there and say nothing all night?” she asked.

  Renaldo didn’t answer. He liked the twang of an accent in her voice. He couldn’t place it but she had to be from somewhere other than just the States. She reminded him of the Nubian beauties he’d encountered in Italy. Kyra glanced back to those gathered and sipped her drink. Her gaze then shifted to him. “How does one get close to those two women?” she glanced to Renaldo. “I think Marietta likes my shoes. Catalina is polite but not very interested. I want to tell them about… my ideas.” Kyra passed her drink off to a server and dusted her hands. She turned and faced him. “Can you give me a tip? This is my big chance you know? I’m just the secretary. Mr. Tate wants me to…”

  Renaldo arched a brow at her hesitance. She was about to share something and thought better of it. Kyra gave him a girlish chuckle. “I don’t really fit in here,” she said.

  “You try too hard. Relax, bella,” he said. “Catalina is from Sicily. Marietta is American like you. Talk to her, she’d listen,” he said more than he intended to. But part of him wanted her to succeed at whatever her heart desired.

  “That easy? Huh?” she teased him with another one of her dazzling smiles.

  “Let the night flow,” he replied.

  Kyra blinked at him. Her long lashed eyes were the biggest flirty appeal to her face. He could stare into those eyes all evening. Then she favored him a smile and he had to reconsider his initial thought. It was her smile that was her best feature. Including the two dimples she brought up in her cheeks. “I guess I am nervous. It’s just that, well those women are so beautiful.”

  “So are you,” Renaldo said.

  “You’re flirting with me!” Kyra chuckled. “I didn’t figure you for the kind of man that would. You seem too uptight.”

  He arched a brow.

  “See. Right there. Every time I say something you either go silent or arch your left brow,” she teased. “So what are you, a bodyguard?”

  “Yes. I guard bodies,” he said.

  Kyra laughed lightly. “Where are you from? Italy?”

  He didn’t bother to answer. Where he was from and who he was wasn’t relevant. And he wasn’t prone to explaining himself. She stared at him as if she expected a response. When she realized he wouldn’t offer one the crease at the center of her brow deepened. “Well I’m from Nigeria. I came here when I was three. And…” her voice trailed off. “Never mind that,” Kyra sighed. She looked around at the polished dining room area and then back to him. “Nice talking to you, Renaldo,” she said.

  He nodded his head. Kyra walked back over to the others. Though she wasn’t invited to sit with Marietta and Catalina she did so. And her effort flowed naturally. She glanced his way and he nodded to remind her to relax. She smiled, and nodded her head in the conversation offering only her opinion when asked. She was a quick learner. Brains and beauty, he got a hard-on for the combination.

  ***

  The night progressed without incident. Or so he thought until he noticed the one person who couldn’t stop her giggles. Kyra sipped more champagne and grinned at the table. No joke was told. But she appeared to find humor in everything that was said. It was clear to the guests that his goddess in jade had too much of the sauce.

  “I think I’ll call it a night,” Marietta said. She rose from the table and offered a cheek kiss to Catalina. Renaldo had to shift his attention to his other boss Lorenzo Battaglia’s wife. In his business every man that ranked higher than him was his boss. But Lorenzo was Don Giovanni’s left hand, his cousin, and the most ruthless in the clan. If Marietta stumped her toe Renaldo could easily suffer the wrath of Lorenzo.

  Marietta cast Kyra a sideways look of concern and then walked toward the door. Renaldo escorted her out. He gave a nod to Tino who immediately fell in line to escort Marietta to her room. He’d make sure she was in her room safely for the evening and would remain outside her door until Renaldo decided against it. The primary job for Tino and Peppino was protecting the loved ones of the Battaglia men. These women’s lives were more important than their own.

  Renaldo returned to the private room. Kyra was at the table with her fellow co-workers. He cast his eyes left to see that Catalina stood off to the side in a private conversation with Theodore Tate. After a few words were exchanged between the two Tate walked off in a huff of repressed rage. Catalina turned to the attendees.

  “Everyone, can I have your attenzione! Per favore!” She clapped her hands and the silent chatter came to an end. “I want to thank you all for coming. From Mirabella and my brother you have our greatest appreciation for what you have done for the company. As you know there have been press and rumors about my family, about this company. We appreciate your loyalty in the past two years to Mirabella’s.”

  A few people clapped and then more clapped. Catalina smiled. Renaldo had to admit he was proud of la piccoletta. She had come into her own as a businesswoman. He remembered when she was just a spoiled schoolgirl in a house full of mean men. Times had definitely changed. “You represent our brightest and most talented in this industry. I’ve seen it myself. So I’m happy to share with you that we are indeed expanding the business.”

  People released deep sighs of relief and a few laughed and clapped with excitement. Catalina waved her hand to silence the group. “Unfortunately that means the New York office will be closing within the next six months. Expansion takes us to Italy and Paris, not America.”

  The crowd went silent. Renaldo’s attention zeroed in on Kyra. Her face had a frozen look of disbelief.

  Catalina continued as if nothing she said was worthy of the reaction she received. “Marietta and I discussed it. After meeting with you today we’ve decided to extend our stay for another few days to conduct interviews with those of you who would like to continue on at Mirabella’s and relocate to our other offices. For those of you that do not wish to do so, we will be meeting to arrange a proper compensation package and do everything in our power
to help you transition to the next step in your careers. Now, eat, drink and have a good evening. I will see you all on Monday.”

  The employees clapped for Catalina. She nodded at them and walked toward Renaldo. He followed her out of the private dining room to the elevators.

  “Basta! What bullshit! I can’t believe Marietta left me to do that alone.” Catalina fumed. When the elevator doors opened she stomped inside. Renaldo slipped in his key card to their private floor. “If she isn’t going to be of help then she should go home.” Catalina shook her head. She wasn’t speaking to Renaldo. Not really. The Battaglia women walked and behaved as if the hired guns that shadowed them didn’t exist. But that anonymity didn’t protect Renaldo and his men from a tantrum or their wrath. These ladies were infamously hot tempered—no matter how poised and controlled they presented themselves to the public. Renaldo had a scar to the back of his head to prove it. He followed Catalina off the elevator and walked ahead of her to her room.

  “Can you please hurry up, because I have to pee!” Catalina huffed.

  “Sì Catalina,” Renaldo nodded. He opened the door and stepped inside first. He checked out the bedroom and bathroom, and all of the closets before he returned to escort Catalina inside.

  “Oh shit!” Catalina said. “I left my purse downstairs. Can you get it for me?”

  “Sì,” Renaldo nodded. He walked out and made sure the door was secure before stepping away. He gave a nod to Tino who stood outside of Marietta’s door. The man nodded back that he’d be alert and watchful. Renaldo would also locate Peppino and make sure he took the first round of patrolling the halls where the women slept, and then switch off with Tino who would take on the rest of the night. He checked the time when the elevator dinged. He also needed to make a call to Dominic and report on the rest of the evening.

  Renaldo rode the elevator down and returned to the dining hall. He was surprised to see so many people had left. There was enough booze and food to keep the party going until the sun rose. It was Friday. The women advised him that there would be no work on Saturday and Sunday. Therefore, no need for the early night.

  “Boss?” Peppino walked over. “Should I go upstairs?” he asked in Italian.

  “Yes. Wait,” Renaldo said. “I’ll keep my eyes on those leaving. You take Catalina her purse.”

  Peppino nodded. Renaldo went inside to fetch it. He looked around and saw it was over near the suite of sofa chairs where the socializing had begun. And seated in one of the chairs was a dejected Kyra. The little shoe maker had her head bowed and her face in her hands. As he approached his walk slowed when he realized she was weeping. Renaldo frowned. Kyra didn’t see him. But she sensed him. Her face lifted and she looked away wiping at her tears.

  “Ah, I thought everyone was gone,” she said.

  He picked up Catalina’s purse with no reply. Her tears were her business, and he wasn’t a man to pry. But half way to the door the sounds of her weeping again made him pause. He stopped and glanced back. Her distress affected him more than he could conceive. He went to the door and gave Peppino the purse. He then closed the door to the private dining room. He and his weeping beauty were alone.

  Renaldo walked over to the bar and picked a bottle of wine that had been left opened to breathe. He also chose two long stem glasses. He then returned to the window seating where Kyra was. She looked up when he sat across from her. The mascara she wore had smudged under her eyes. But still those eyes of hers were the most captivating he’d seen on a woman.

  “Have a drink with me,” he said.

  “What?”

  He poured her a glass and one for himself.

  “I just found out I lost my job. I sat here and made a fool of myself by getting drunk in front of my co-workers. And you think a glass of wine is what I need?” Kyra asked.

  Renaldo passed her the glass. She hesitated a moment but then accepted the wine glass with a slight tremor to her hand. He observed her as he swirled the magenta liquid around in his glass. Kyra brought the merlot glass to her lips and the mere action of taking a sip enticed him. In a world of predators it was the soft vulnerability of women that often struck men like him. The more she shied away from his attentiveness the more attentive he felt the urge to be.

  “Forgive my English. I speak it poorly. I hear what Catalina tell you about your job.”

  “You heard,” she said.

  “Yes,” he nodded.

  “No,” she managed a smile. “The correct way to say it is you heard what she told us employees about our jobs.”

  “Ah, I heard her. Sì. Catalina said that employees can relocate. To Paris or Italy.”

  Kyra set the wine glass down in an abrupt fashion. “First of all I happen to like living in New York. It’s home for me. And second of all I’m not an employee so her offer was not extended to me.”

  “I don’t understand. What does this mean? Not an employee? What are you?” Renaldo asked.

  “I’m a receptionist, a temporary one, sent to work at Mirabella’s by an agency. If the company closes, no, when the office closes my contract is over. I’m fired.”

  “I see.” Renaldo sipped his wine.

  Kyra’s gaze lifted. She focused her hurt and confusion on him. “Is that all? You see? So I guess my problems don’t impress you.”

  “No. Problems don’t impress me. People do. You do.” He sat forward and placed his wine glass on the table between them. “Your beauty impresses me. Your smile impresses me. That dress, it impresses me.”

  He tried to guess her age. She was young but when he looked into her eyes he wavered on his first impression. Kyra had an inner strength he only recognized in adversaries. He found that bold contrast intriguing. She spent the evening being shunned by the people she tried so hard to impress. Yet she shed tears because she feared there were no options to continue the fight. This crusade of hers to be a shoe maker was as important to her as his vows to the Battaglias. He’d hate to see her give up now.

  Instead of her ending the conversation and walking out on him she took a long sip of her wine until the glass was empty.

  “What’s done is done. No point in crying over it. New York is a big city. I can find another job. Hopefully with another design company.”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “The thing is,” she continued. “This was my dream job. I’ve done everything to be noticed. All I got at the end of the day was this dress on loaner, and half a bottle of wine that probably cost more than I make in a month.” She reached for the bottle. Renaldo stopped her.

  “Enough for the evening,” he said. “I make sure you are taken home. Safe.”

  Kyra sighed. She dropped back in her chair. “I don’t want to go home.”

  “I can summon your driver.”

  “No thank you,” she said.

  “He take you where you want to go,” Renaldo clarified not understanding her meaning.

  She looked at him.

  The emotional stare off had meaning and Renaldo struggled with his interpretation. Was she delaying for his company or something else?

  “What if I wanted to go to your room? With you,” she asked.

  It was the alcohol speaking. Whatever the reason there was no denying he’d have no problem taking her upstairs.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “How old are you?” she countered.

  He smiled. “Old enough to know that a woman in distress is not a woman you want to take to bed.”

  “I’m not in distress. I’m not even upset anymore. What I am is tired.” She stood up and wavered. After a brief second she walked around the room in a half circle in a graceful manner. Renaldo relaxed in the chair and enjoyed the show. His gaze swept her legs, hips, tiny waist, and the full swell of her breasts.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  He nodded his approval.

  Kyra’s lovely smile dissolved from her lips. “I’m tired of finishing last. Do you know I could have been a doctor? I got accep
ted into one of the top medical schools in this country after finishing a year early in my undergraduate studies. Dr. Kyra Okeeno. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds important,” he said. She had his interest piqued. He knew there was more to the little shoe maker than her beauty and talent. He hadn’t guessed this. Doctors and Priests were very respected professions in his culture.

  “My parents wanted it for me. I just… couldn’t.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  Kyra gave him a mischievous smile. The sadness dissipated. She turned sideways and extended her right foot a bit to make the crystals on her shoes sparkle. With the slender shapely line of her ankle and calf on display he nearly salivated. He was definitely a leg, thigh, and ass man, so her tease stirred him.

  “I make shoes,” she said proudly. “I sat my mother and father down and showed them my true passion. My portfolio. I’m a designer. I’ve been making clothes for as long as I can remember. Sewing for all of my aunts and sisters. I’m really good too. And I wanted this opportunity at Mirabella’s to prove it. My parents don’t speak to me anymore. Neither do my sisters. All I have is Jamie and a bunch of shoes only she and I wear,” she sighed.

  “So you giving up?” he asked.

  She walked over to him. He admired the sexy sway of her hips. She stepped around his chair. Her hand slowly brushed from his wrist to his shoulder as it went up his arm. “I’m not giving up.” She leaned in and spoke against his ear. “I’m giving in.”

  He looked her over and their lips nearly brushed but she drew away. She walked around to sit before him again. “I see the way you look at me, Renaldo. Especially tonight. You like me.”

  Renaldo chuckled.

  “To answer your question I’m twenty-three. I’m unmarried, unattached, and attracted to you. Or haven’t you noticed?”

  Renaldo turned up the last of his wine and swallowed it down. He set his glass over to the side table next to his chair.