When It Falls Apart (The D'Angelos, #1)(65)



Left with little choice, Luca walked behind the bar and turned on a light.

He found the number he was looking for and dialed it.

“Good evening. Marriott Marquis . . . how can I help you?”

Luca glared at his ex-wife. “I need a room.”

Ten minutes later, Luca was locking the restaurant door after Antonia had walked out.

He thrust a fist against the doorframe and cussed at the universe.

“I don’t know about you . . . but I need a drink.”

Luca turned around to see his brother standing in the doorway of the kitchen wearing lounge pants and a worried grin.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to need a drink.” Gio walked behind the bar, grabbed a bottle and two glasses.

“Damn it to hell.”

“She’s back to be a mom.”

“Do you believe that?”

“No.” Gio poured a generous portion of something amber into a glass and handed it to Luca. He drank it without question and put the empty back on the bar.

Giovanni refilled.

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no fucking idea.”



“This isn’t going to work.” Nayla stood in front of the storyboards bitching.

They had the weekend to bring the ideas together and get the last-minute models and the setting onto a stage to show Bret how to move forward. Once they had that approval, they would face the next hurdle.

“Why?”

Nayla looked at the images of the models. “They’re average.”

“They’re beautiful,” Kayleigh pointed out.

“But average.”

“I think your problem is they’re not scowling.” Mayson pointed his pencil at Nayla.

The phone in Brooke’s back pocket rang.

She glanced at it, saw her father’s face.

She dismissed the call. He knew she was out of town and to call back only if there was an emergency.

“Mayson might be right,” Brooke said. “You’re used to high fashion and a lack of expression.”

“How can you say that?” Nayla was truly offended.

“Because she’s right,” Kayleigh said. The girl had found her backbone and was using it. “Those ads look plastic.”

“Those ads cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

“And only appeal to people who make hundreds of thousands of dollars,” Mayson pointed out.

“That’s what our client wants.”

Much as Brooke hated to admit it, Nayla was right.

Brooke’s phone rang again.

Her father’s face.

“I have to get this.”

Nayla rolled her eyes. “Am I the only one here who takes their job seriously?”

“Hey, back off,” Mayson growled.

Brooke walked away from the group. “Hi, Dad . . . is everything okay?”

“I need a haircut.”

“What?”

“I need a haircut. You said we could do it this w-week.”

Brooke squeezed her eyes shut. “Dad, I told you I needed to go out of town, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I’m in Texas. Your haircut has to wait.”

“But—”

“Dad, I’ll call the home. They have someone there who can do that for you.”

“Not this week. Nobody wants to work anymore.”

“Dad . . .” Brooke looked up to see Nayla staring at her. “I’ll call and see what I can do. Is everything else okay?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good. I have to go.”

Brooke disconnected the call and turned to face her team.

Nayla scowled. “Can we get back to work here?”



“I literally have less than five minutes to talk.”

Luca heard Brooke’s frantic voice over the phone and knew this was not the time to drop his news.

“Is everything okay?”

“I told you that Nayla was on point for this project. But I pitched an idea that we’re running with. If it tanks, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’ll be looking for another job.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Tell me about it. And then, in the middle of a meeting, my dad calls for a haircut.”

“A what?”

“You heard me. A haircut. Seriously, Luca. I told him I was going out of town and to call for an emergency only. He calls because he needs to look good for the ladies during bingo.” Brooke sounded as if she was walking.

“Where are you?”

“On my way to my room to change. God forbid you meet the client in casual clothing. I like dressing up. There’s a place for it. But Texas is hot.” She paused. “Is everything okay there? How is Franny? Tell her I’m studying.”

“Are you?”

“No. But lie for me, okay? I’ll cram on the airplane coming home. Shit.” The sound from the phone grew distant.

“What happened?”

“I dropped my key. I’m sorry, Luca. It’s not normally this chaotic.”

He sighed, had so much to tell her but knew this wasn’t the time.

“Is everything okay?”

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