Exposed

2- Pretty Girls By Maggie Lindemann

"Fuck your ribbons and your pearls..." I stand in the kitchen dancing around like an idiot as Anastasha cleans the living room.
"Miss Michele?" Suddenly she's right behind me, making me to jump out of my skin.
"Gesù Anastasha."
"Sorry, but do you need me to do anything else?"
"No thank you." Smiling at her as I hand her a handful of money.
"Are you sure? I can do the laundry or the dishes, I could clean your room-"
"Ana, thank you for doing what you did today, but I don't need you for anything else."
"You'll get used to having a maid eventually."
"Doubtful." I mutter flashing her a smile.
"Fia!"
"Here!" I call out to my father.
"Ana, amore good to see you."
"Mister Michele." She nods in acknowledgment before disappearing.
"What brings you here?" I ask looking up from the piece of flank steak on the cutting board to find my father and some extra unexpected company, not that I minded today, my hair was pin straight, fluttering down my shoulders in a deep chocolate curtain, my makeup had taken me a solid thirty five minutes to perfect, my pink lace crop top hit my dark wash jeans at just the right place, showing off more of my fair skin. "Jared?" I cock my head to the side just slightly, my hair brushing against the exposed skin on my hip. "What brings you two here?"
"Just... un po 'di tempo con mia figlia." (want to spend time with my daughter) Chuckling I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face.
"Grazie. Che ne dici di uscire allora?" (Thank you. How about we go out then?)
"No, restiamo in stasera."(No lets stay in) Skeptically I look at him and Jared.
"Devo tornare al negozio." (I have to go back to the store)
"Dimenticalo."
"Forget it?" I question cocking my head to the side again. "Che cosa stai facendo?" (What are you doing)
"Niente di bella Fia." (Nothing beautiful Fia.)
"Non ti credo." (I don't believe you.)
"Me ne vado tra qualche giorno, niente di più." (I'm leaving in a few days nothing more.)
"Mm." I hum skeptically, my eyes landing on Jared who looks fairly lost, my heart skipping a beat.
"Were you shit talking me?" He questions laughing lightly as he takes a seat at the island.
"Shit talking?"
"Parlando male di." (Speaking badly about.)
"Oh, of course not." My father replies his hand smacking Jared on the shoulder quite harshly.
"Do you need help Fia?" Jared asks his ice blue eyes looking up at me as he leans on the counter.
"No, thank you though." I turn back to the frying pan, trying to make a nice lunch as my father tries to teach Jared what we were discussing before. He butchers nearly every sentence, but his heart was in the right place.
"Bene molto bene." (Good very good) My father encourages him making me chuckle. "Fia! Non ridere di lui!" (Do not laugh at him) He reprimands. "Nessuno ha riso quando hai iniziato a parlare inglese!" (No one laughed when you were learning English) He had a point.
"That's not why I was laughing. I remember when I was learning English. You used to encourage me the same way over the phone when I told you how poorly I was doing."
"Now you're... fluent."
"Sì. Fino a quando non torni a casa." (Until you come home.)
"Che ne dici di venire a casa con me, in Italia?" (You should come home to Italy)
"What? I can't do that, not with the stores over here, I have to keep something in line." Smiling softly I set two plates in front of them.
"Braciole." Alessandro smiles up at me.
"Um, not to be rude, but I don't eat meat." Jared says looking at me with sympathy.
"I know." I flash him a smile setting a broccoli stir fry in front of him.
"Grazie."
"Prego."
"When I'm gone will you carry on teaching him?"
"Doubtful." I shake my head.
"Why not?" Jared questions shoving mouthfuls of vegetables in his mouth.
"I'm busy and so are you." I round the island and reach for the Braciole I set in front of him. His eyes wrack over my body making me feel more exposed as I sit behind them at the table. They come to join me.
"You can make time." My father inquires. "You have nothing else to do."
"You speak like I do nothing." Shrugging one shoulder he shove some food in his mouth.
"I'd have more time if you wouldn't be so creative, or open more stores." My father takes a second to process what I've said. "Bene." (Well) I press.
"Non capisco." (I don't understand) Rolling my eyes I shake my head.
"Niente."
"That means nothing right?" Jared asks obviously feeling left out.
"Sì."
"You said well, he said he didn't know and you said... nothing?"
"He said he didn't understand what I said in English, but you were pretty close." Standing I put our plates in the sink.
"You do speak English really well." Jared comments. "Did you take classes?"
"No." I admit. "I moved over here with what little I did know and learned through a friend in college, it helped me learn um... what's it called?"
"What?" Clearly having no idea what I was talking about he tilts his head ever so slightly to the left.
"Like words or statements that mean something else."
"Slang?"
"Sì, grazie, slang."
"Well she did a hell of a job."
"He. He was my boyfriend at the time." I admit, quite smugly actually.
"How is Giovanni?" My face breaks into an involuntary smile.
"Good. I'm supposed to go see him tonight, but if you would rather do something here-"
"Invite him over it's been some time since I've seen Gio." Jared was extremely quiet until now.
"Yeah invite him over we can have like a game night or movie night or something."
"Yeah, okay." I pull up Gio's name in my phone letting it ring, when I glance at Jared, his eyes on me the whole time.
"Fia." I could hear the grin in his tone of voice as he picks up, his Italian lilt playing in his creamy voice.
"Gio." Grinning so wide I nearly split my face in half while I lock eyes with Jared, his ice blue eyes clouded now falling more into the slate gray category. "Hey, I can't meet you tonight dad's here, want to come over instead, have a game night?"
"Sure."
"How about you come around seven for a late dinner."
"Great, I'll be there."
"Okay. See you then." I hang up, my eyes still holding Jared's gaze.
"Great, I'll go get some food from the... the um... what is it... mercato."
"Market." I say my gaze still locked with Jareds.
"Sì, grazie." He holds up his phone as he walks toward the door. "Tieni compagnia a Jared." (Keep Jared company)
"Va bene." (Okay) "What do you want to do?" I ask once my father's left.
"How close is the market again?" He asks clearing his throat as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
"About forty five minutes away."
"And he knows that one?"
"Sì."
"How long is he usually?"
"Maybe an hour."
"So about two and a half hours?"
"Sounds right." I breathe, my heart hammering against my ribs. Now that we were alone, all I could think about was how attractive he was to me, how good looking he was and dear god he was good looking. He breaks eye contact finally, but his eyes trail over my body again, examining every curve and contour. "Stop that." I rasp.
"Stop what?" He breathes back his eyes snapping back up to look at me.
"Undressing me with your eyes." My voice was hoarse as the sexual tension hung in the air.
"I'd rather do it myself." He announces in a hushed tone as he pushes back the stool. I wanted to challenge him, tease him and turn away, but the heat from his ominous stare kept me in place.
"Is that so?" I challenge breathlessly.
"Sì." He breathes huskily in my ear, his body inches away from mine, so close that I could smell his Gucci cologne. His broken Italian nearly sent me to my knees.
"Allora fallo."
"I'm taking that as a go ahead."
"As you should." And all hell broke lose.