“Well, fuck,” I mutter. “Not exactly great news to wake up to.”
“Ah, but that’s where I come in,” Thatch sings in a sweet—torturous—melody.
“Thatch knows an investor,” Wes translates. “Someone willing to buy out the apartments within thirty days. Apparently, if the building changes hands, they have to file a whole new case, and they have to do it with the approval of the owner.”
“Aren’t politics grand sometimes?” Cap crows in the background. “I looked into it, and it’s true. They’d have to drop the case, and with Thatch’s inside man as the owner, they’d be sealed up tight against a new filing. No blowback on you.”
I laugh sardonically as I head to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. Even though I’m fully engaged in the conversation, my brain is still foggy, and I hate that.
“Well, that’s great from a legal perspective,” I confirm. “But what about the residents? The last thing we want is for this place to be a thorn in the neighborhood’s side, right?”
“Definitely,” Wes confirms. “I have a few ideas for incentives and outreach, though. I think they’ll go a long way toward neighborhood approval.”
“Great.”
“I’ll email over the specifics so you can take a look,” Wes says.
“Sounds good. But don’t feel like you have to wait to start implementation. I trust your judgment on this,” I reply.
“How come Theo never tells me he trusts my judgment, Thatch?” Cap asks in the background, and I roll my eyes.
“You know, he never says that to me either,” Thatch adds with a laugh.
Wes and I both ignore them, but that doesn’t stop Cap from taking the phone from Wes—physically, if the sounds of a scuffle are anything to go by—and commandeering the conversation.
“Did you get the email I sent you?”
“Considering I’m just waking up, it’s safe to say, no, I did not.”
“Fucking hell, Theo,” he mutters. “I sent you the list for book club.”
I furrow my brow. “The what?”
“The list of books you need to read while you’re in Positano swinging your dick around and sleeping in until fucking noon. I mean, you act like you’re there on business, but it sure as fuck doesn’t sound like it to me.”
“Pretty sure I’m here opening a club, but okay.”
“You better fucking read the books on that list, or I will ban you from book club myself.”
I cross my fingers. “Promise?”
“Please!” Wes says loudly. “Ban me too!”
“That’s cute,” Cap retorts. “You know you’d both be crying like fucking babies if I gave you the boot.”
“I’ll make a mental note about the email, Cap,” I say in an effort to move this along and get him off my back. “But I really have a lot to get done this morning, so can we wrap this up, you think?”
“All right, fine. But you have to at least tell us why you were up so late last night.” I can literally hear the smile in his voice. “A sexy woman, perhaps?”
No way I’m telling this guy even an inkling of information about the sexy woman from last night. He’d spread that shit around like chlamydia, and nobody likes chlamydia.
“It was just a late night at the club.”
He laughs. “Sure, it was.”
“I know you’re tied down to one woman and spend your nights reading romance novels and watching rom-coms on Netflix these days, but nightclubs haven’t changed. They’re still open late.”
“Now I really know you’re full of shit,” he guffaws. “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, sweetheart. Deflection is the first sign of a liar.”
“You’re right, Cap,” I say sweetly. “But do you know what the first sign of the end of a conversation is?”
“What?”
I hang up the phone without another word, and immediately, I receive a text message from him.
Cap: You’ll pay for that, Theodore. That’s a promise.
I don’t bother to respond. Caplin Hawkins is a vortex, and I don’t have time to get sucked in any more than I already have.
I toss my phone onto the bathroom counter and brush my teeth, and then I turn on the shower. I hop in while the water’s still cold and make quick work of cleaning up, and by the time I finish getting dressed, I have Carey on speakerphone, rattling off today’s schedule and rearranging anything I’ve already missed.
“Your one o’clock is at the nightclub with a vodka supplier. Your three o’clock is back at the resort with two investors, and your five o’clock meeting is back at the nightclub with Carlos. I’ve already moved the ten-thirty you were supposed to have with Hugo Spavelle to tomorrow, but he’s going to be on his yacht on his way to Corsica by then, so you’ll take yours out and meet him.”
“Are these—”
He cuts me off before I can finish. “Yes, Bossman. Everything is logged in your calendar, and you’ll get notifications. Also, I truly hate how terrible your life is for you.”
I think someone is still a little pissed I made him stay back in New York and man the office, instead of coming to Italy to help ensure Club Indigo’s opening week goes smoothly.
I laugh again, but I don’t take the bait. “Anything else, Carey?”
“Enjoy the rest of your day…in Italy. Without me there to keep everything organized for you. You know you never would have overslept if I’d been there.”
“Aw, Care. You know you would have been way too distracted by the Italian fashion to worry about my schedule if you were here.”
“I’m totally not flipping you off right now.”
“And wouldn’t Bill have missed you if you were gone for ten days?”
Bill is Carey’s husband, and he wouldn’t have minded if I’d have brought Carey with me at all. He’s the kind of supportive partner Carey—and quite frankly, everyone—should have.
“That’s what FaceTime is for.”
I laugh at the grumbly grit in his voice.
“Next trip, I promise you can come along.”
“Pfft. Whatever. You’ll probably choose somewhere boring and cold.”
“I’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” I assure him.
“You’d better. I expect a private villa with a butler, a shopping budget, and sex. I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether you’re going to fulfill the last one or if it means buying an extra ticket for Bill.”
I laugh at Carey’s requests and make a mental note to buy two tickets when the time comes.
“Goodbye, Carey.”
I look at my watch to check the time. Since it’s only a little after eleven, I have time for some quick breakfast on my balcony before I have to make my way over to Indigo for my one o’clock meeting.
I call down to room service to place my order and then step outside to survey the hotel. I scan the rooms below, the restaurant on the second level, and then move my gaze to the pool just two floors down.
It’s lively this morning, already crowded for a weekday, and service seems to be running as it should.