Killer Summer by Lynda Curnyn (e book reading free .txt) 📗

to town, I immediately rang his office in Bohemia, hoping to get a lunch date. And though Vince wasn’t sure he would even have time for lunch between his meeting with Tom and his appointments with various vendors around the city, he did say he would stop by.

I was looking forward to it. Especially after our cozy little chat on the deck was cut short by that character Nick dragged out to the beach. Of course, neither Nick nor Zoe could understand why I was so pissed off at them that night. And I was tired of explaining what should have been obvious to my two closest friends.

The intercom on my phone rang, and I grabbed the receiver. “Yes, Yaz?”

“Vince Trifelli is here to see you.”

I smiled. Early. That was nice. “Send him down, Yaz.”

Shutting the file of Excel spreadsheets I had been staring at for way too long, I stood up, catching a glance of my reflection in the mirror, the only useful personal item of Maggie’s in the office. I gave my hair a quick tousle, then pulled my lipstick out of my handbag and dabbed it on.

That budget would have to wait. Right now, I had more urgent matters to attend to.

“Well, hello,” Vince said, appearing in the doorway.

“Hey, Vince,” I replied, smiling at him and stifling an urge to lean forward and kiss him. Mmm. He looked good. I didn’t usually go for suits on a man, but Vince was no ordinary man, I thought, studying the way his linen suit fit his broad shoulders and highlighted his olive skin. “So does this mean I have a lunch date today?”

His brows furrowed. “Unfortunately not, Sage. One of my vendors needed to move his appointment up, so I don’t have that much time.”

I bit back on the disappointment that stabbed at me.

“But I’ll make it up to you,” he continued, his dark gaze meeting mine. “Dinner Friday night at the beach? Le Dock in Fair Harbor is pretty nice. Especially at sunset.”

Well, well, well. I might have lost a lunch, but I had gained a dinner. Complete with sunset. “Sounds good to me,” I said smiling at him. ‘“Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

He shook his head. “I really can’t stay long. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I see you moved into your new office,” he said, his gaze roaming around the room.

“Yeah, well, it needs a little work, but I’ll get to it.” Then I realized what I’d said and stepped a little to my right, hoping I was blocking the trash can filled with Maggie’s tchotchkes.

“I really enjoyed our talk the other night,” he said, returning his gaze to mine. “I’m hoping we can talk some more. I’d love to hear some of your ideas for next year’s styles.”

Now style ideas I could handle, I thought. For a moment I contemplated asking Vince the questions I had about the budget, then realized I might look like a know-nothing. And that was the last impression I wanted to give him. “That sounds great. I’ve already got a few ideas about some styles we can do in lamb and goat,” I said.

“That’s what I like to hear, Sage. We need to do a few more styles in some good-quality skins. Not that I have anything against your bulletproof hip-hop styles,” he added with a wink.

Clearly I had made an impression on him. At least he remembered some of the ideas I’d shared with him out on the deck last weekend.

“How’s Les doing?” he asked now.

“Oh, he’s fine,” I said. “I think he may have had a little too much to drink that night.”

He shook his head. “He’s lucky to be alive.”

“I know,” I said, feeling pretty lucky to be alive myself. Especially with Vince standing before me, looking at me as if he might be finding me just as irresistible as I found him.

This was shaping up to be a pretty damn good day after all. Budgets notwithstanding.

He glanced at his watch.“I’ve got to run. So Friday then? Pick you up at the house around eight?”

“I’m looking forward to it, Vince.”

“So am I,” he said, giving me a look that said dinner wasn’t the only thing he was looking forward to.

Yes, it was good to be alive.

I was feeling even more exuberant when, two hours later, I managed to make some headway on the budget. So much so that I even treated myself to a double-mocha-cino, delivered right to my office from the coffee shop downstairs.

And just as I was settling into my chair to drink it, the intercom rang.

“Yes, Yaz?”

“Hey, Sage, did Vince say where he was going this afternoon? I have a woman on the phone from the tanneries who’s trying to get in touch with him.”

I frowned.“I know he had a few appointments, but I’m not sure with whom. Why don’t you put her through to me. Maybe I can help her.”

“Sure,” Yaz said, clicking off.

A few moments later, a woman’s voice came over the line.“Hello, I’m looking for Vince Trifelli,” she said in a husky Italian accent.

“Hi, this is Sage Daniels. I’m the sales manager for Edge. Vince isn’t in the office just now. Maybe I can help you?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Well, if you see Vince again, just tell him to meet me at the hotel at six.”

Meet him at the hotel? “Who shall I say is calling,” I said, trying to keep the sudden tension I felt out of my voice.

“Just tell him it’s Gianna. He’ll know,” she said.“Thank you. Ciao.”

I’ll give her ciao, I thought, dropping the receiver into the cradle. Who the fuck was she?

I dialed “O” for Yaz.

“Yeah, Sage?”

“The woman that just called—did she say which tannery she worked for?”

“Ummm, let’s see, what did she say her name was… Oh, Lorenzo. Yeah, that’s it. She said her name was Gianna Lorenzo. I’d assume she’s from the Lorenzo tannery in Italy.”

“Thanks, Yaz,” I said, hanging up.

What was Gianna Lorenzo doing in New