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Heather shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m not the one who’s all dried up and uptight all the time. With your body and good looks, you could be the bachelorette of Manhattan.”

Chiara laughed. “Maybe I don’t want to be. Maybe being alone, and waiting for something meaningful is what I’m after.”

Heather rolled her eyes at her as they headed toward the department store.

“Perhaps there’ll be some prospects at the party Saturday night. Or if not, then you could always persuade your good friend Emanuel and his brother Keith to play.”

Chiara shot her a look. “I never had sex with Keith.”

“Oh, I know that, but you did with Emanuel, and he adores you ’til this day.”

“He’s my best friend. We’ll always have a special bond.”

“He and Keith share women now. They could teach you the ropes, and ease that need you have.”

“Now you want me to have sex with my best friend and his brother. Next, you’ll want to have it with me,” Chiara said. Heather raised her eyes at Chiara and gave her the once-over then grabbed her hips and gently pumped against her from behind.

“I’d do you,” Heather said in her attempt at a deep man’s voice.

Chiara slapped her hands away as they got hysterical laughing.

“You are a bad influence and very naughty.” Chiara reprimanded her as they walked arm and arm through the mall.

“And you, my bestest friend, need to get naughty.”

Chiara suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotions. Heather was her best female friend and Emanuel her best male friend. With all this talk about sex and finding release she felt even higher strung than when the conversation started. There were more important things to focus on, like work. She was trying to prove to her father her capabilities. He was a hard man, a distant one, but since Mom died they had gotten closer.

She couldn’t disappoint him. She couldn’t bring him any grief. But she was twenty-six years old. She wanted a real relationship or at least a sexually active one. Perhaps Heather was right. Maybe Saturday night would bring some prospects, and maybe she would consider a few flings.

Chapter 2

“Daddy, what is it? What’s wrong?” Chiara Costiano asked her father as she entered his study. The party was going on in the mansion. He had disappeared, and she was concerned. Her father, Robert, had not been himself for months now. She knew that he worried about the business. She had some ideas, some plans of action, but he wasn’t exactly keen on her being part of the company.

He had tried to keep her out of Costiano’s for years. He hadn’t always shared his thoughts on the company, and he even trie

d to dissuade her from asking any questions. She worked her way up to a management position on her own. She remembered begging him to let her have a job when she was fifteen. She then told him that if he wouldn’t hire her then she would just have to wait tables and stay with friends down at the New Jersey shore for the summer.

With no parental supervision and a bona fide schedule of work all day and party all night, he quickly got her a job. She had ideas. Why was he being so stubborn? She was talented when it came to designing and campaigning. Why couldn’t he see that?

She obviously surprised him by walking in unannounced.

“Chiara? I didn’t even hear you come in. Wow, you look stunning as usual, honey.” The normal smile that always reached his dark blue eyes didn’t make it. Something was on his mind.

She’d learned enough about her father’s behavior over the years to identify when he was troubled, when he had little sleep, or when he was getting sick. Now that Mom was gone, Robert Costiano was even more protective of Chiara than ever before. Sometimes she wondered why. Most of her childhood he seemed detached from her. She shrugged her shoulders. Her mom said that he loved her, so Chiara believed that her father did.

She walked to him as he stood and met her in front of his desk.

“I was worried about you, Daddy.” She leaned up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He held her by the shoulders, and then hugged her gently. In her mind, in her gut, she knew something wasn’t right. A hug from my father and it isn’t even my birthday?

She worried about him and all the stress he seemed to be under.

She’d caught him in the gardens last week on the estate. He was daydreaming, and never heard her approach. More than likely he was thinking about her mother.

The business wasn’t losing money. Was he contemplating selling it off? But she wanted to run it. She wanted the opportunity to show her father that she could do it. She was business savvy enough. She just needed him to see how capable she could be. But her father and she weren’t exactly close. Not like she read about in books or heard from other friends about their relationships with their dads. No, hers was very concise, restricted, and composed. But she fought that tooth and nail, and tried to get her father to pay close attention to her. It just wasn’t in his personality.

She even tried to mimic him and his obsession with work and organization. But that didn’t even work. He probably still didn’t like her calling him Daddy, but she did sometimes, just to get under his skin. She wished they were closer, like when Mom first passed away. But he was growing distant, and she didn’t understand why. Calling him Father all the time made her feel stuck-up and snobby. That wasn’t her. It seemed so vain and obnoxious. Since she was nine, and assertive, she’d called him Daddy. He was forced to get used to it.


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