Chapter 1 - Long Enough
Nora Bennett gripped her phone and whispered, “I need a boyfriend by tomorrow.”
Matteo Bellandi entered holding a silver house key.
A dark scratch cut across the number engraved on it: 17.
He stopped when he heard Nora’s next words.
This was no longer a private phone call.
“I don’t need a real boyfriend,” Nora whispered. “I just need someone until tomorrow evening.”
Her sister, Emily, went silent on the other end.
Nora stood beside the long counter separating Bellandi House’s library service room from the adjoining kitchen, one arm folded tightly across herself. She had escaped there after clearing the evening coffee service because it was usually the quietest place in the mansion.
Usually.
“Nora,” Emily finally said, “you cannot hire some stranger.”
“I’m not hiring anyone.”
“You literally just said you need a boyfriend by tomorrow.”
“A temporary boyfriend.”
“That is called hiring an actor.”
“I don’t have actor money.”
“You work for a billionaire.”
“I clean for a billionaire. There is a difference.”
Nora rubbed her forehead.
Tomorrow evening was Emily’s engagement dinner.
Their mother had insisted that every close relative attend.
That would normally have been inconvenient rather than catastrophic.
Then Nora learned that Christopher Hale was coming.
Christopher had dated her for eleven months before announcing, in front of two mutual friends, that he needed “someone who cared more about presentation.”
Nora had understood what he meant.
He had spent months making jokes about the desserts she ordered, the dresses she wore, the amount of space she occupied in restaurant booths.
When she finally confronted him, Christopher had smiled and told her she was too sensitive.
Three weeks later, he was dating Vanessa Caldwell.
Now Vanessa happened to be one of Emily’s fiancé’s cousins.
Which meant Christopher would be at the engagement dinner.
Worse, Nora’s mother had already told half the family that Nora was “seeing someone wonderful.”
Nora had never said that.
Her mother had invented it because Christopher had apparently been telling people Nora was still heartbroken over him.
Nora was not heartbroken.
She was angry.
There was a difference.
But tomorrow, surrounded by relatives who loved questions more than dinner, that difference would disappear.
“So what exactly is the plan?” Emily asked.
“I walk in with somebody respectable.”
“Respectable?”
“Yes.”
“You sound like you’re buying a used sedan.”
“He smiles. He shakes Dad’s hand. He stays for dinner. He leaves.”
“And then?”
“Then we have an emotionally mature breakup somewhere nobody can see.”
Emily groaned.
Nora almost laughed.
Then a quiet sound came from the doorway behind her.
A shoe against polished wood.
Nora froze.
Emily continued speaking.
“Nora?”
Nora slowly turned.
Matteo Bellandi stood in the doorway.
He wore a perfectly fitted black suit over an open-collar black shirt. His dark hair was pushed back from his face. A silver watch caught the kitchen light as one hand rested beside his pocket.
The Bellandi name was known throughout New York.
Some people knew it because of real estate.
Some because of restaurants.
Some because Matteo’s late father had built a shipping empire from nothing.
And some people lowered their voices when they said Bellandi at all.
Nora had worked in Matteo’s house for eight months.
She had never asked which stories were true.
She had no desire to know.
Matteo looked from her face to the phone.
Nora’s stomach dropped.
“Emily,” she whispered, “I have to go.”
“What happened?”
“My employer happened.”
She disconnected.
Matteo raised an eyebrow.
Nora swallowed.
“Sir.”
“Nora.”
“How long have you been standing there?”
He looked at the silver key in his hand as though calculating.
“Long enough.”
Heat climbed into Nora’s face.
“I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“This has absolutely nothing to do with my work.”
“I didn’t suggest that it did.”
“And I’m not actually attempting to deceive anybody.”
“You are planning to arrive with a man and introduce him as your boyfriend.”
Nora paused.
“When you say it like that, it sounds deceptive.”
“It sounded deceptive when you said it.”
She closed her eyes.
“Wonderful.”
Matteo stepped farther into the room.
The stories about him usually described him as terrifying.
Nora had always found that description incomplete.
Matteo was frightening because he did almost nothing.
He did not shout.
He did not rush.
He did not fidget.
When something happened, he simply watched until everyone else became uncomfortable enough to reveal more than they intended.
Now he was watching her.
“What happens tomorrow evening?” he asked.
Nora opened a cabinet and pretended to inspect perfectly arranged glasses.
“Family dinner.”
“And you require a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I require peace.”
His mouth almost moved.
Almost.
Nora continued before embarrassment killed her.
“My sister is getting married. Her engagement dinner is tomorrow. My ex-boyfriend will be there with his new girlfriend. My mother has already told everyone I’m dating somebody.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother believes humiliation can be prevented through aggressive fictional storytelling.”
Matteo leaned one shoulder against the doorway.
“And the man?”
“What man?”
“The one you planned to bring.”
“He does not currently exist.”
“An obstacle.”
“A significant one.”
“You work with more than thirty people.”
Nora stared at him.
“You believe I should walk into the staff room tomorrow and announce that I’m accepting applications?”
“I’ve witnessed stranger hiring procedures.”
She laughed before she could stop herself.
Matteo watched her.
For one strange second, the tension shifted.
Nora immediately looked away.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“What did your former boyfriend do?”
The question was quieter.
Nora’s smile vanished.
“That isn’t important.”
“You sounded afraid of seeing him.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Matteo said nothing.
Nora hated that silence.
“He enjoyed reminding me what he thought I should change,” she said finally. “My clothes. My hair. What I ate. How much I weighed.”
Something hardened in Matteo’s face.
Nora regretted speaking immediately.
“It was stupid.”
“No.”
“He never hit me.”
“I didn’t ask if he did.”
“He just talked.”
“Words are useful weapons when the person holding them knows where to aim.”
Nora looked at him.
For the first time, Matteo did not seem like the unreachable owner of Bellandi House.
He looked like a man who understood the sentence personally.
She cleared her throat.
“Well, fortunately, I survived Christopher Hale’s terrifying campaign against carbohydrates.”
Matteo became still.
“What did you say?”
Nora frowned.
“Carbohydrates?”
“The name.”
“Christopher Hale.”
The transformation was subtle.
But Nora saw it.
His gaze sharpened.
His shoulders straightened.
The air changed.
“You know him?”
Matteo looked away for half a second.
“His name is familiar.”
“That sounded ominous.”
“It wasn’t intended to sound anything.”
“That was even more ominous.”
He placed the silver key on the counter.
Nora glanced at it.
A tiny 17 was engraved along its edge, interrupted by a black scratch.
She had never seen it before.
“What’s that for?”
Matteo covered it casually with his hand.
“Nothing that concerns tomorrow.”
Nora noticed the wording.
Not nothing that concerns you.
Nothing that concerns tomorrow.
She decided not to ask.
Matteo’s eyes returned to her.
“You need a boyfriend tomorrow?”
Nora gave a humorless laugh.
“I need somebody convincing enough that Christopher doesn’t spend the entire night looking at me like he won.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
“What would winning mean?”
“That I’m still embarrassed by what he did.”
“Are you?”
Nora hesitated.
“Yes.”
The admission hurt more than she expected.
“He made me feel like taking up space was something I should apologize for,” she said. “And I hate that some stupid part of me still hears his voice whenever I walk into a crowded room.”
Matteo pushed away from the doorway.
He took one slow step toward her.
Then another.
Nora stayed where she was.
“You shouldn’t apologize for taking up space,” he said.
She laughed softly.
“That sounds very inspirational coming from a man who owns six buildings.”
“Nine.”
Nora stared at him.
“Of course it’s nine.”
His mouth twitched.
Then his expression became serious again.
“Take me.”
Nora blinked.
“What?”
“Tomorrow.”
She stared.
Matteo calmly adjusted one cuff.
“You require someone to accompany you.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“As my boyfriend?”
“That is generally what ‘take me’ meant in the context of this conversation.”
Nora searched his face.
“You’re joking.”
“I rarely joke.”
“That does not make this better.”
“It should.”
“You are Matteo Bellandi.”
“I am aware.”
“You employ me.”
“Also aware.”
“You cannot pretend to be my boyfriend.”
“Why?”
Nora opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
There were at least eighty reasons.
She could not organize any of them while Matteo Bellandi stood three feet away calmly volunteering to attend Emily’s engagement dinner.
“Because people know who you are.”
“Some people.”
“Everybody with internet access.”
“That is not everybody.”
“My mother has Facebook.”
Matteo looked almost concerned.
“That may complicate matters.”
Nora laughed despite herself.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He did not answer immediately.
That made her nervous.
“Consider it repayment.”
“For what?”
“You prevented my grandmother from firing her physical therapist last month.”
Nora stared.
“Your grandmother fired him because he told her she couldn’t climb a ladder.”
“She dislikes restrictions.”
“She is eighty-one.”
“She considers that irrelevant.”
“That does not equal fake boyfriend service.”
“Then consider it a favor.”
“Men like you do not perform favors without reasons.”
His eyes held hers.
“Perhaps I have a reason.”
The room suddenly felt too warm.
Nora looked away first.
“This is insane.”
“Probably.”
“And what exactly would you do?”
“Attend dinner.”
“Meet my parents?”
“Yes.”
“Sit beside me?”
“Yes.”
“Pretend we’re dating?”
“Yes.”
“Christopher may say something rude.”
“Then I’ll practice restraint.”
The fact that he said practice did not comfort her.
“Absolutely no threatening anybody.”
“I don’t threaten people.”
Nora stared.
Matteo stared back.
She decided not to investigate that statement.
“You would have to be convincing.”
“I can manage.”
“My mother will interrogate you.”
“I’ve faced congressional attorneys.”
“My mother is worse.”
“I’ll prepare.”
Nora put both palms on the counter.
This was ridiculous.
And yet she imagined Christopher seeing her enter beside Matteo.
Not because Matteo was wealthy.
Not because he was powerful.
Because Christopher had spent months convincing Nora that no desirable man would choose her unless she changed.
Walking into that room beside a man who looked like Matteo Bellandi would destroy Christopher’s certainty in approximately four seconds.
That thought was deeply satisfying.
Dangerously satisfying.
“One night,” Nora said.
“One night.”
“Nothing real.”
Matteo’s expression became unreadable.
“Of course.”
“No confusing boundaries afterward.”
“Understood.”
“And you follow my lead.”
“I’ll try.”
“That was not agreement.”
“I heard you.”
Nora pointed at him.
“This is exactly why you frighten the staff.”
“I thought it was the organized crime rumors.”
Her hand dropped.
He smiled.
Actually smiled.
Nora stared at him.
Then she realized he had deliberately made a joke.
“You are impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She exhaled.
“Fine.”
Matteo held out his hand.
Nora looked at it.
“You want to shake on fake dating?”
“I prefer clear arrangements.”
She placed her hand in his.
His fingers closed around hers.
The contact was brief.
It still sent an unexpected spark up her arm.
Nora pulled her hand back first.
Matteo noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Six-thirty.”
“I’ll have the car ready.”
“No.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“No car?”
“No fleet. No bodyguards. No dramatic convoy announcing that organized wealth has arrived.”
“One car.”
“Normal car.”
“All of mine are normal.”
“Matteo.”
“Fine.”
“And no expensive gift for my sister.”
“How expensive?”
“Under two hundred dollars.”
He looked offended.
“You’ll survive.”
“We’ll see.”
Nora picked up her phone.
Matteo took the silver key from the counter.
She glanced at the number again.
He slipped it into his pocket.
Then his phone vibrated.
Matteo checked the screen.
Whatever he saw erased every trace of humor from his face.
Nora noticed immediately.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That was clearly something.”
He locked the screen.
“Go home, Nora.”
The change in his voice made her obey before she could argue.
She collected her bag and headed toward the service hallway.
At the doorway she stopped.
“Six-thirty.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Nora left.
Matteo waited until her footsteps disappeared.
Then he unlocked his phone again.
A photograph filled the screen.
Christopher Hale stood outside an industrial building beside two men Matteo knew very well.
Below the image was a single message from his security chief.
HALE KNOWS WHERE LOCKER 17 IS.
Matteo slowly removed the silver key from his pocket.
Another message appeared.
HE ALSO KNOWS NORA BENNETT WORKS FOR YOU.
Matteo looked toward the hallway Nora had just entered.
Then the kitchen door behind him clicked.
It opened from the other side.
May you like
Someone whispered his name.
“Matteo…”
