Undressed

  This was messier than expected, and he sank in his chair. Nauseated, he turned the TV off. This isn’t true. How can they do this? Massimo picked up his phone. He contacted his press secretary for the House of Tittoni as well as the Girasoli Garment Company. Massimo gave statements against Scilla and Ottavia and asked the papers and TV networks to issue retractions. His lawyers and press agents pressed charges against everyone who spread this gossip. And he agreed to TV appearances recanting the events later in the day. He’d talk to every single person in the world. No one would slam his Lex.

  Knock, knock.

  “Ciao, darling, do you see the crowd forming outside?” Jemma strutted to the window and pulled the blinds up. Women lined up, waiting to get into the showroom. “I arrived at eight this morning. I’m exhausted. Luigi called in three sales girls from their vacation to help.”

  “What do the customers want?”

  “Lex’s dress. The media tagged it ‘The Naked Lex Dress’.”

  Oh Jesus. “How many dresses have you sold?” He couldn’t fathom.

  “I’ve written about two hundred orders. It’s selling for five grand a pop. Lex wearing my design last night at the art show made international news. She ranked best dressed and worst behaved.”

  “But at what cost? Have you seen the articles?”

  “Sì, I did. The media is false. We’ll rally around Lex. You’ll fix this, Massimo. I know you will.”

  “How can anyone manage this?”

  “She may need to go into hiding for a while ’til it cools down, no?”

  “Hiding? Who hides?” He didn’t see Lex retreating from anyone.

  “Let’s see—billionaire Howard Hughes, actress Greta Garbo, comedian Dave Chappelle. It happens. The spotlight became too intense. Why else would I quit modeling at Ford? I hated the attention, sì?”

  “You loved the attention. You quit modeling to be a fashion designer.”

  Jemma loved people staring, talking and giving her attention. She wasn’t fooling him.

  “Oh pah-lease, my darling.” Jemma shook her head in disagreement.

  Knock, Knock.

  He looked up to see Lex, wrapped in a pashmina and the slacks she’d worn during their first dinner. She hid herself under a New York Giants baseball cap with her hair in a ponytail. Knuckles white, she held her luggage in her hand.

  “I spoke with Taddy and Vive. The girls haven’t gone to bed yet. They stayed up contacting the press in Paris, Tokyo and Los Angeles.”

  “This is my entire fault.” Massimo reached for her. “Bella, let me look at you.”

  “Taddy advised me not to turn the TV or look at the papers.” She set her bag down and stepped forward. “I feel twelve years old all over again.”

  “I agree with Taddy.” He removed her cap. “You are still beautiful.” He gave her a smile in hopes it would reassure her.

  Lex bit her lip and removed her sunglasses.

  Massimo maintained his encouragement but felt his stomach turn over.

  “Oh mio Dio!” Jemma gasped and then sobbed. “Lex…”

  The rip across Lex’s face had scabbed into a thick dark line. It shocked Massimo when he stared at it. It must hurt. She wore no makeup and the swelling had diminished, leaving a blackish ring around her punched eye.

  Still praying in Italian, Jemma hugged Lex and blubbered, “I’ll leave you two alone. My darling, I’ll see you in Manhattan in a few days for your show.” She kissed Lex on the uninjured cheek and excused herself. “Be strong. We’re all here for you.”

  Afraid he’d hurt her face kissing her, Massimo held her hands. Her grip wasn’t as shaky as last night’s. Massimo kissed her fingertips. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “I didn’t believe the media would do this.” Kiss. Kiss.

  “I’m never one to say I told you so.”

  “Since when?” Massimo teased. He wanted to see her smile and he did.

  “My tongue doesn’t seem as sharp today.” She wrapped her arms around him and continued, “Funny how men can get away with their bad boy behaviors, but a girl goes dancing and has sex and it’s the end. The media loves to demonize a woman.”

  “How did the images get out this fast?”

  “Vive confirmed Debauchery magazine and its European affiliate received the first exclusive on the photos late last night. Vive offered to buy the images from Scilla for one hundred thousand dollars. She’d destroy the images and kill the story.” She squeezed Massimo’s waist tighter. “That’s what friends do.”

  “Then how did the images get out?”

  “Scilla sold the photos to Celebarazzi Magazine and their sister network DBC TV for two hundred thousand dollars. Vive couldn’t counteroffer quick enough. They went live this morning online and on TV. Vive will go on air this week to make counterstatements against the gossip. Celebarazzi is her biggest competitor. She’s motivated to squash ’em.”

  “You should stay with me and heal. We can do your fashion show next season.”

  Lex stepped back, issuing a glance as if he’d lost his mind. “I’m going back to Manhattan. I don’t belong here. Taddy’s St. Barth’s flight lands at about the same time I get into JFK. She’ll take me home and we’ll come up with something.” She shook her head and insisted, “The Brill team always does.”

  “Yes, Taddy’s reached out to me already this morning”

  “Taddy copied me in, I read it, I’m sorry she emailed you.” Lex cupped his face and said, “If I’m reactive, wait ’til you meet diva Brill.”

  “I will do everything in my power to speak to the Italiano press. Since the detectives lack motivation, I will issue a reward to catch Scilla and Ottavia.” Yes, that’s what’s needed. He’d get them to confess to this bullshit and clear Lex’s reputation.

  “For a bitch slap? No major crime other than selling a bogus story. What’s done is done.”

  An upsetting thought about their future came to mind. “I am afraid to ask where this leaves us.” I’ll do anything to make this work, whatever you want.

  “Us?” Her arms crossed over her chest in defense. “Masi, I love you. You are amazing. But—”

  “No, no, no, don’t say but. Please, Lex.” It was coming. She’d break up with him before they’d even started.

  “But last night’s fight and this morning’s repercussions prove otherwise. It’s not me.” Lex came across as being uncomfortable with the conversation.

  “People will not believe everything they read. And my opinion is the one which should matter to you. Not strangers.” You’re not leaving me.

  “True and your opinions mean the world to me. But how I feel about myself does as well. And if I can’t as much as walk to the grocery store without harassment then”—she paused and the color drained from her face—“I don’t want this life, Masi.”

  Massimo’s pulse beat erratically. “I recognize what you are saying. But maybe you’re being a bit premature?”

  “Look at me!” she shouted, grabbing his chin and forcing him to confirm her defeat. She lowered her voice and repeated, “Masi, look at me. This isn’t me.” She didn’t cry. Lex’s mind seemed made up. “I need to go home and get a hold on the damage.”

  He hugged her close, not wanting to let this be their last moment together. Massimo rested his chin on her head’s crown and suggested, “Come to Isola di Girasoli with me. Hide out. Jemma says there are many celebs living quiet lives away from the press.”

  Lex jerked her head up, hitting his chin and retorted, “Yes and they hide in their homes. It’s how my parents started using. Mom couldn’t leave the house without security. They’d check into a hotel, rather than going outside, and they were stuck in their rooms, drinking, smoking and popping pills. And I ate. I won’t live in a cage, Masi. Not again.”

  “I want you with me, at my side, forever, bella.”

  “You do?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She smiled. Why did she fight him on this? Why the resistance? Massimo promised to make everything okay if given the chance.

>   “Sì, our relationship is taking off. I want to see where it leads us. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I need this week to fix this, to clear my head.” She hesitated for a minute, “I can’t give you answer today about us. It’s not fair to me or to you. I can say—I don’t want this life.”

  “I will come to New York with you today. We’ll hit the press together.”

  “Massimo, I appreciate you offering. But—”

  “Stop with your buts,” Massimo interrupted. Upset, he’d never met such opposition.

  “I must do this by myself.”

  “You didn’t tell Taddy or Vive we were in love, did you?”

  “I’d rather explain us to them face to face.” She kissed his cheek. “I also didn’t consider you’d want to see me again after today.”

  “Bella, how can say that?”

  “Vive mentioned Girasoli’s stock plummeted this morning when your market opened. I know how important this is to you. I wouldn’t want to stand in your way to grow your business.” Her face spoke sincerity with her words, but they were words that he didn’t agree with. A sweet gesture but it pissed him off.

  “I don’t care about my reputation or the stock market. I care about you.” Massimo didn’t know what else he could do to prove his love to her.

  “I have to go home, Masi.”

  You are my home, bella. I am lost without you. He couldn’t speak. There were no words to recoil the loss consuming him. Massimo brought his hands up to her face. Kissing her one last time. He had to for his sanity. And he did with great passion, knowing he’d hurt her face when she kissed him back. But she did. He heard the cry in her throat as their tongues danced. Warm tears touched his palms as they continued to kiss. His fingertips were wet with sadness. He kept on kissing her. Unable to stop, he needed ten more seconds. Ti amo, I love you. Please don’t leave. I’ve waited my whole life for you. When he pulled his face back, she cried, and he realized he did also.

  “I will call you when I land.”

  “Please do not—” Before he could argue with her any more to stay or persuade her he’d fix the situation, she’d picked up her bag and stalked out the door. He mumbled, “Leave me.”

  Lex was gone.

  His mother had left him at eight and his father at seventeen. Anyone he’d ever loved departed with the promise to return. Massimo had learned people never kept their promises.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Superwoman Taddy Brill

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be landing at JFK International Airport in about twenty minutes,” announced an American Airlines flight attendant. “The weather in New York City is ninety eight degrees. The local time is 12:10 p.m. Thank you for flying with us.”

  The House of Tittoni had offered Lex private jet service, but she’d boarded a commercial flight, landing her tired ass at Terminal Eight. Lex didn’t get one peaceful wink in the nine plus hours. She’d underestimated the media storm upon her the second she passed customs. To her left thirty or so reporters clamored against the security ropes to talk to her. Crap! She scanned the crowd for Taddy. Where is she? Then she spotted him—Jose. Taddy’s driver, an attractive Puerto Rican who stood at six foot four inches and could mow down the paparazzi with one fist.

  “Jose, I’m glad to see you.”

  “Miss Brill is outside smoking by the car. Hold my arm and we’ll get through the crowd. Miss Brill asked that you don’t respond to any reporters.”

  “Agreed, let’s go.” Taken aback by how many people waited for her, she pushed her way through the crowd with Jose.

  “You having four ways, Miss Easton?” shouted a TV reporter.

  “Will you be going into rehab?” asked a woman with a microphone to her face.

  NBC, E! Entertainment, CNN—everyone vied to get her to comment.

  Easy to spot, Taddy sat on the cherry hued Cadillac Escalade’s hood in passenger pickup. Her penny copper hair swarmed around her Tom Ford Havana sunglasses in the balmy air. She puffed on a Nat Sherman Fantasia Light cigarette, her signature addiction, each with neon colored paper wrapping and a gold leaf charcoal filter.

  Everything about Taddy blazed red—hair, nails, cars, and even her quintessence illuminated at times in various auburn, cerise and scarlet tones. She branded “red” to go with her PR firm when it launched, claiming it embodied her passion in life and blood thirst in business.

  “Thank you for leaving St. Barth’s for me.” Lex breathed a sigh seeing a familiar face.

  “Lex! Jesus, you look like shit!” Taddy slid off the vehicle’s hood, stepped on the smoldering butt with her designer heel, and gave her a hard squeeze, wrapping her arms around her.

  “It’s called my punch to the face,” Lex joked.

  Taddy stepped back and said, “Let me see the damage. My sweet Jesus cinnamon tits, did you get decked.” She yanked on Lex’s chin. “Nothing a little high definition makeup can’t fix.”

  “Ummm and some sleep. I’m going straight to bed.”

  “No, no, no, you’re all over the TV and in the paper.” She pulled out Wall Street Journal from her Lambskin Birkin bag. The headline read, Girasoli Set to Acquire Easton for Three Hundred Million. “Lots to do my little damsel—this is a great press mention compared to the nasty others.”

  She glanced at the paper. “I love how you’re showing me the positive editorial and not the negative papers.”

  “That’s what besties are for, honey. We’ll get to your Scilla Ottavia smear later. I worked on the strategy on my plan ride up. Warner gave me the Truman Enterprises jet. Thanks to having the flight all to myself I figured out your shit storm.” Taddy held the door open for her. They piled into the back of the SUV. Taddy shouted at the driver, “Jose, Manhattan and hurry.” She slammed the door and turned up the rear AC vents.

  Jose floored it as the SUV accelerated and merged onto the Van Wyck Expressway.

  Taddy continued, “Jesus Christ, they call this city the world’s center, but the humidity makes this town the last place on Earth I’d be. It’s cooler in the Caribbean. These Manhattan late Indian summers are hell.”

  “How did St. Barth’s go?”

  “The travel editors loved the renovations for Secrete de St. Barth. You know Babe Potter? Writes a travel blog? Well, dear ol’ Babe drank four mojitos pitchers and cowgirled the resort’s lifeguards.”

  “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “Mrs. Potter’s married to a guy who is a far cry from a lifeguard.”

  “Oh!”

  “I have enough dirt on these editors to blackmail—” she coughed. “I mean I have my insurance that Secrete de St. Barth will see press galore come this busy winter season.” Notorious in the industry for showing the media a good time, she kept a score card on their extracurricular activities. If they didn’t return the media coverage favor to her client’s, she’d be sure to remind them.

  “Have you talked to my mom?” Lex felt guilty for not calling Birdie since her Charmaine Whitedove confession.

  “A bobble head doll,” Taddy replied. “That’s how your mom’s head spins when you leave her and dodge her calls.” She shook her head like a crazy person to amplify her statement. “My Aunt Muffie called me last night while I was on the beach minding my own business when your pussy orgy hit the world. She took Birdie to dinner at Barbuto to calm her ass down. Aunt Muffie mentioned the veal is dahlicious, by the way.”

  “When the drama unfolded, I knew she’d be curled up in bed crying and blaming herself. What did my mom have to say to Muffie?”

  “Aside from your recent celebrity four-way in Milan, Birdie told my Auntie Muffie if this new collection doesn’t sell, you’ll be bankrupt for the second time and won’t be able to pay me back the retainer which is way past due.”

  “True, in addition to this Massimo drama, we have this little thing about getting the next Easton collection off the ground.” She was mortified. Leave it to Birdie to spill the beans. No decorum. She felt her hands clam up.
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  “Aunt Muffie mentioned she learned this when the check for the meal arrived and she paid. But how is this possible, Lex, when you’re rolling in it, right?”

  “Wrong. I wish. Although Massimo offered to acquire the company, I turned him down.”

  “You must be high.”

  “No, stupid with pride.”

  “How so?”

  “My checking account is overdrawn. We’ve used up the bank’s credit line. We won’t be able to pay you or the staff ’til after the fashion show and we get our purchase orders. I’m sorry.” And she was. She felt as if she’d failed.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “No fabric equals no inventory, no purchase orders, no sales and no money. We’ll start back up into production with the new shipment.” Lex tried to follow up her reassurance with a smile but knew Taddy could see right through her.

  Taddy put her hand on Lex’s knee and patted it. “Honey, it’s okay. We’ll get through this. For freak’s sake, I’ve seen you richer than God and poorer than dirt. You talk to Vive and me every day. Here we thought everything seemed hunky dory. Don’t ever keep a stupid fabric debacle a secret and jet off to Italy as if going to Queens or Brooklyn. We’re here for you.”

  “I know.” She appreciated all her friends more than ever.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  Lex decided she would tell her about Massimo. “Okay, okay, okay.”

  “You always shut down and go into hiding every time something colossal occurs in your life—all hushed and clammed up. It drives me nuts. Vive expressed concern, stating you’re the most paranoid woman she’s ever met. And that bitch knows everyone.”

  “And for good reason, hello, come on.”

  “Tell me how on earth you got the arm of the prince. I saw the pictures and video on TV. How did you get him to escort you to those events? You must have him by the fashion fabric balls. Vive mentioned you two fought. Vive surmised the romance was staged.” Taddy didn’t have any idea.

  Lex took in a breath before fessing up. “I’m in love.”

  “What?” Taddy shouted. “I thought The Fashion Ball was a platonic spin to help your brands grow together.”