8

Ruggerio

“Aaaaaah, and this one. Look at this.”

Frank holds up his phone to me, showing me a tanned beauty posing in a bikini.

“Nice.”

“Looks like there will be a lot of hot babes at the party.”

I hum approvingly as he shows me another picture of a blonde posing in front of the Eiffel Tower in a mini dress. As every year the young and rich are posing about getting their ticket on social media.

And like every year, Frank and I go through the posts to see if we would spot the hottest ones in their masks. Normally, I would be on fire to see the girls, but something has been bothering me since I got out of that demoniac shop with my sister.

“Can you believe she has been doing this for years?”

Frank groans, repositioning himself in his seat.

“She walks around with their family crest!”

“You have to let it gooooo.”

He sighs desperately and shows me yet another picture.

“Concentrate on this.”

“I don’t do brunettes.”

Chuckling, he swipes to another picture of a blonde and grins.

“That’s what I want to hear!”

He takes his phone back and I stand up to get us another bottle of beer. We are hanging out at my penthouse in the city. The only place I can catch a breath, away from my nosy and noisy family. Just Elisabetta and my grandmother have a key to my “secret” apartment. Not that my grandfather or my father would care to see an apartment where I live in. My mother, on the other hand, bluntly ignores the fact that I’m theoretically not living at home anymore. But as soon as I show up to eat three meals a day and call her regularly to assure her that I’m still alive and have not been kidnapped by some sketchy organization between lunch and dinnertime, she handles the situation rather bravely. And God forbid I would even tell my brother my actual address. As I slump back into the big black leather couch, I hand Frank his bottle of beer.

“Thanks.”

He is absorbed while scrolling on his screen and I take a swing off my bottle, looking at him.

“Something the matter?”

“Nah, I was just checking the bags. They are nice though.”

I swing delivering a blow onto his arm, having him yelping in pain. As he rubs his upper arm, he shouts,

“What the hell?! Now I’ll gift everyone around us one of them. You will see their family crest every single day!”

I laugh out loud at his antics, and he groans, getting his attention back to the phone screen.

“Hey! Tiffany just texted!”

“Who?”

He scoffs without even sparing me a glance.

“You know the cutie from the pool party we went to.”

“I really need more information than that.”

“Here.”

He hands me the phone to go through her profile pictures.

“She had that one friend who perfectly met your taste, and you chilled out in the Jacuzzi with.”

I look up trying to remember and hand him back his phone.

“Still doesn’t ring a bell.”

They are all the same anyway.

“Whatever. She writes that she and her friend are going to the party too and would like to meet us there.”

I shrug.

“I don’t like the idea of going there with a date. Sounds like I’m ruining my options here.”

Frank has already turned to me and is looking at me with dog eyes.

“You like her? And want to go with her?”

As he nods repeatedly, I laugh.

“Fine, tell her we will meet them there. But remember the Starks that asked for a tour?! You will handle that all by yourself.”

I take another swing while he sighs.

“Get daddy some free time.”

***

This girl may had met my taste while wearing a bikini, but as I’m sitting in a lounge, hearing them talk about their latest clubbing experience, they have me irking. Her blond hair is pinned up and she looks rather beautiful in her short emerald dress and fitting mask. But as she was talking about some article she read some time ago, I could swear it was just a strange theory of some influencer-barbie, I noticed that she has a crooked teeth and now everything is lost. I can’t concentrate on anything else. Which is bad, because she must be thinking I want to kiss her badly, as I’m staring at her mouth.

God, help me.

“What do you think Ladies, want to go dancing?”

Both cheer at Frank’s suggestion and we stand up to go back inside.

“Dude, thank you.”

“Yeah, at least the music will cover up their blabbering.”

As he starts dancing seductively with his crush of the evening, I make a beeline to the bar. Naturally, my Barbie follows me closely.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Champagne.”

I order her champagne and a gin tonic for me. She is already talking along again, but I can’t hear a single word, so I keep nodding with a smile.

Be a good wingman. Do it for Frank.