Free A Family Affair: The Secret by Mary Campisi

She’d begun devouring the stories, and while she’d like to blame her obsession on her ex-fiancé, she’d been hooked from the age of fourteen when she found a stack of entertainment magazines at the house where she babysat.
    The first time Angie spotted Roman Ventori, he was staring back at her from page six of the Chicago Nightlife Magazine , beneath a heading that read, Mr. Beautiful is beautifully free . Now that was a saying that made her look twice and zero in on the caption attached to the man. Roman and Jessica Ventori, Chicago’s powerhouse couple, call it quits. Sources close to the couple attribute Mr. Ventori’s constant travel and Mrs. Ventori’s desire to start a family, as the possible cause. Look out, Chicago, here comes Mr. Beautiful!
    Those dark good looks and slow smile said player , and she didn’t need a magazine to spell it out for her, though second and third photos with more commentary appeared in the Chicago Nightlife Magazine a few days later. She’d never have heard of the guy if Kate hadn’t started sending her entertainment magazines and newspaper clippings from Chicago. That’s one thing about a best friend. They knew your guilty pleasures, and gossip of the rich, famous, and gorgeous was Angie’s. Plus, there was something about this guy that intrigued her, made her wonder what had really happened between him and his wife, made her wonder about the hint of sadness around his eyes. What did a guy like that have to be sad about? Other than the fact that his life was probably built on a bed of quicksand…It was the wondering that kept Angie guessing, compelled her to make up stories about the supposed “fortunate” ones as though she were reading a book or watching a miniseries on television. It was a harmless method of entertainment that lived in her head and kept her from engaging in the real world of men, dating, and disasters.
    Roman Ventori might not make it into People Magazine , but she’d seen and read enough about him to make him noteworthy. Still, it was one thing to wonder about the man and his backstory…but to go full flesh-and-blood on her, stand less than ten feet away as Roman Ventori was at this very moment? The real man, not the picture or the smile? How the hell had that happened and what was she supposed to do with that? Interact? She squinted, studied the man, and listened. His voice dripped honey, sweet and sticky, and she bet that voice made women cling to him, made them get all soft and gooey, promise him anything he wanted. And she bet he took them up on their offer, plus she’d bet her stash of biscotti that the man didn’t try to stop the clinging either.
    Roman Ventori was a magnet and that smile said he absolutely knew it.
    “Excuse me, may I help you?”
    “Huh?” Roman Ventori, a.k.a. Mr. Beautiful, had closed the distance between them to barely breathing room.
    “The lettuce,” he said, pointing to the romaine in her right hand. “My personal favorite.”
    The smile spread, the eyes glittered. She tossed the romaine back on the shelf. “My mistake. I was looking for endive.”
    The man’s laugh could steal a woman’s logic if she weren’t prepared for it. “My mother won’t use anything but endive in her wedding soup.” He made his way toward the clusters of endive, lifted two and held them out for her. “Are you making wedding soup, by chance?”
    No, she wasn’t making wedding soup or anything else this man suggested, with or without that smug smile of his. Dang, but he was better looking than his pictures. And that voice made her jumpy... and those hands… She coughed, cleared her throat, and darted a glance at the endive. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”
    “What time’s dinner?”
    She didn’t have to look at his face to feel the smile. Oh, this was ridiculous. Did he really use that line on women? And did it work? Angie frowned and lifted her gaze to his. Yup, there was that smile and the softness around the mouth that