Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Did he invent stories about an imagined family as a kind of coping mechanism? Or did he know and have some kind of relationship with his father? Were those chapters of his life closed? Was his family unable to help him financially?
My curiosity was piqued, which was annoying as fuck. I didn’t have time to be so intrigued by someone I was only using for sex. He wasn’t a security risk, and that was the only thing I needed to concern myself with.
I focused on the work in front of me for the rest of the flight and tried like hell not to let Jett’s soft snores distract me.
We were met at the Salerno airport by a driver who quickly gathered our luggage and led us to my grandfather’s old Rolls for the drive to the villa. I slipped into the back seat, expecting Jett to follow. When he didn’t, I realized he was talking to the driver in broken Italian as he helped the man load the bags. The sound of his friendly attempts at conversation was unexpected.
“You speak Italian?” I asked when he finally took the seat beside me.
“Not really,” he said with a laugh. “I did a few lessons on my phone over the weekend.”
“Have you been to Italy before?”
Jett’s cheeks flushed. “Is this where you reveal how small-town I am?”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But you’ve been to Amsterdam, so I wondered if maybe…”
“If maybe…” His eyes flicked up to the driver. “Another job had given me more travel experience?”
I shrugged and pressed the button to raise the privacy screen.
“I’ve been to some places. What about you?” he asked. “You’ve probably been all over the world with your job.”
He avoided answering the question despite the privacy screen. I wondered if it was due to his desire to avoid mentioning other men he’d been with or if it was due to his embarrassment at his lack of travel. I decided to let him evade the question.
For now.
“Yes. I started traveling with my grandfather at a very early age. And my mother enjoyed tropical vacations.” I glanced out the window at the bright sun reflecting off old tile-roof buildings. “I lived in London for a time. For graduate school.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
I glanced at him. “You don’t sound surprised.”
Jett grinned. “Italian wasn’t the only thing I looked up online this weekend.”
I rolled my eyes. “Be careful what you read on the internet.”
“Mm. So you didn’t date the governor’s daughter? I see.”
Kalliope Andros and I had dated for six months around the time I’d seen Jett in Amsterdam. When I’d returned, it had become clear to me that Kalliope and I would only ever be sexual partners and social friends. She was as politically driven as her father, and I didn’t want any part of that. When she’d tried to manipulate my relationship with her father in order to impact complex port negotiations to his favor, I’d cut her loose.
I couldn’t abide liars or double-dealers.
“That didn’t last,” I said. “And was never serious to begin with.”
His eyes flicked back to the privacy screen, and he cleared his throat. “How can I best support you during this chess extravaganza, Mr. Maris?”
Right. Business.
“We’ll spend a couple of days preparing the house and staff for the tournament. That means studying up on whatever information their people have sent ahead for accommodations, diet, et cetera, to ensure their comfort. I need you to take point on this with my housekeeper. Unfortunately, I have a lot of work I need to do before the guests arrive.”
He nodded. “I can do that. My dads throw killer house parties, so I have lots of experience. What else?”
Again with the inconsistencies. But even if I couldn’t control my raging curiosity, I’d be damned if I let it show.
“When the guests arrive, I’ll obviously need you to help me make them feel welcome and comfortably accommodated. You’ll be a liaison between our guests and the household staff.”
He frowned. “Why don’t you ask your mother to act as hostess? She’s a society maven, right? Wouldn’t she like this kind of thing?”
I shook my head. “My father wasn’t a fan of Paxis, and he convinced her it was boring. She’s never been to a tournament. Which suited my grandfather fine because he didn’t trust her discretion.”
The car pulled up to a dark metal gate, and a guard stepped out of the gatehouse to speak to the driver.
“Discretion.” Jett pursed his lips. “What is there to tell about a chess tournament? How wild and crazy do these things—?”
I held up a hand to shut him up as my window rolled down so the guard could see who was inside.
“Ciao, Gianni,” I said with a nod.
The familiar man smiled and waved us through. “Mr. Maris. Welcome home.”
The words hit me in the gut. Villa Altomare was mine now. While I’d come to stay in January, to hide out for a week right after my grandfather’s death, it hit me again that this was my house, not his. That he was gone, and he’d left me responsible for carrying on the Maris legacy.