Free Boss (Chianti Kisses #2) by Tara Oakes Page B

fathers’ way of life.
    The skirmish between them and Rizzo last year was surprising. Moretti stayed on the sidelines, not wanting to get involved unless asked. Everything seemed to die down when Rizzo was sentenced and I figured it was over.
    Then Dom called. Not only was our help needed, but a door to my past, to her, was shown to me.
    And here I am, four hours later, standing in front of her apartment door with my finger on the doorbell.
     
    ~*~
     
    THERESA
     
    All I want to do right now is soak in a hot bath with some lavender oil, sip on a glass of vino, and listen to some good breakup music. It’s been just under a week since Josh and I broke up, and I’ve downloaded everything from Alanis Morisette’s angry break-up anthems, to Taylor Swift’s love-gone-bad biographies.
    It’s not like I didn’t see it coming. We’re from two different worlds and even though there was a spark in the beginning… it just got boring. I mean, how many country club dinners can we go to with his parents?
    I took up tennis, sailing, and golf to try to fit in with his yuppy friends. Golf! What woman in her right mind wants to wear a sun visor and plaid to hit a stupid ball with a club? Plaid makes you look fat. It’s a fact.
    And then there was his family. They were as prim and proper as you can get. I felt like an exotic little pet they would take out and put on display. Every time I would see his Aunt Muffy, (yes, I said Muffy), she would ask me to speak Italian so she could attempt to speak in her forty-year old college intro, bad dialect, Italian. It was so embarrassing.
    He begged me to reconsider, having spent about a year together that he didn’t want to see thrown away. But, I need more. I don’t know what I need exactly, just… more.
    This isn’t my first break-up. It’s not even my worst. I liked Josh, but I won’t fool myself into thinking that he left me with a broken heart. Only one person has ever done that. And what are the odds that I would see him, after all this time, today of all days?
    I’ve forbidden myself from thinking about him, saying his name. It was self preservation, but it was effective. I survived and it only made me stronger. Even E.J. didn’t have my heart. He had something else, though; he had my body. In some ways, that was worse.
    E.J. was evil in his own way, but there was something about the forbidden, the off-limits, that turned me on. He played me like a well-tuned violin and made me beg for more. It’s a cruel twist of fate, I think.
    Carmine had my heart but not my body, while E.J. had my body but not my heart. Josh had neither. I’m seeing a trend. It’s all down hill from here. I pop the cork from the half empty bottle left over from last night. At this rate, I’ll be an alcoholic before I even find another boyfriend. Maybe I’ll meet someone in Betty Ford.
    I look at the glass in hand and think it’s just the way to get started on my pity party tonight. I carry it with me down the hall to the bathroom, and loosen my robe along the way, leaving it on the wooden floor somewhere between the living room and my bedroom. One of the biggest benefits to living alone is being able to walk around naked. It’s freeing, exhilarating.
    I perch my wine glass on the wide pedestal around the tub and fill the depths with hot, steamy water to drown my sorrows. My hair is thrown up in a clip and I press the remote in just the right places to cue the music, loud.
    The screen to my phone lights up, with a picture of V in her wedding gown flashing across for me to see. I breathe deep. I can’t talk to her right now. I’m too embarrassed to even think of what to say.
    How do you apologize for being a brat without actually admitting to being a brat? Ever since the wedding planning, I feel like I lost my best friend. Everything was about the wedding, or Dom. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them. I love V, and I know she and my brother are perfect for each other. But, it’s kind of