Amedeo, Her Italian Billionaire(45)
“What’s wrong?” he said. “Does your head still hurt?”
“It does, but it’s a low throbbing. I’m okay, really. Let’s play cards.”
“You sure? You want to nap? You yawned before.”
“I guess I could nap, but you’ll have to wake me at some point?”
He nodded. “The discharge papers said to wake you after an hour of sleep.”
“Then maybe I don’t want to sleep. That would be annoying.”
“Up to you, Violet.”
He shuffled the cards. “I don’t have any other games, but I do have some on my tablet.”
“No, thanks. It hurts to look at a screen. I haven’t even looked at my phone because it hurts my eyes,” she said.
She couldn’t look at a screen, but she’d hoped to get some work done. Maybe tomorrow. Amedeo had been right to refuse to get her laptop. She’d make her headache worse.
“And you wanted your laptop?”
“I know,” she said, then groaned. “I was trying to be optimistic, but one glance at my phone and I knew I couldn’t stare at a screen all day. Not even sure I want to watch television.”
“Then cards it is.”
He climbed over her to lean against the headboard. She crossed her legs. He lounged as he shuffled the cards. “I only know poker.”
“I can play poker. What will we bet with?”
“I have pretzels.”
“That’ll do.”
He bounced off the bed and she cringed from the pain. “I’m sorry, Violet. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.”
He didn’t do it on purpose. She knew that. It hurt just the same.
“I’ll go get the pretzels.”
He came back with a bag of pretzel sticks.
“You’re going to have to change your sheets before bed tonight.”
“It’s fine, Violet. I’m doing laundry anyway,” he said.
“I’m making more work for you.”
He waved his hand. “Stop. It’s fine. I should probably change the sheets anyway.”
She frowned, but let it drop. He shuffled the cards some more then dealt them. “Aces are high. Deuces are wild.”
“What is each pretzel worth?”
“Does it really matter?”
She laughed. “No, I guess not.”
She eyed her cards, thinking they were pretty good. A game of strip poker would be fun, but she wasn’t up for sex at the moment. She wished she were. A whole day of lounging in bed with a naked Amedeo sounded pretty good. Another day. She’d bet he’d be up for it.
The played for an hour and she won every hand.
“I’m glad we didn’t play for money. You might own my house and my car by now. Where did you learn to play?”
“Juvy.”
“Yikes.”
“It was a tough crowd. They played for cigarettes and sexual favors.”
“Wow. I forget that your upbringing was so different from mine.”
“Night and day, I’m sure,” she said.
“I had my father in my life.”
“How old were you when he died?”
“I was eight.”
He didn’t make eye contact with her. It must still hurt him. “You really cared about him.”
“He was my idol. We’d come here because of his job and I ended up staying even after he died. It was a blow to all of us when he was gone. Salvatore especially, since he was the youngest.”
“I can’t even imagine what my life would be like if I’d known my father. I might have known more about men than I did.”
“A father should teach his daughter what men are about,” Amedeo said.
“It’s a big responsibility and women where I grew up never took it seriously. They never cared if the father was around. As if they didn’t mean anything,” Violet said.
That was a damned shame, but at least her child would have his father.
***
On Sunday, Amedeo met Dante for a beer in the afternoon. He’d been going a little stir crazy, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Violet. She insisted he go out because he was driving her crazy.
Just like an old married couple. Shit. That wasn’t good. This was temporary. Until the baby came. He had to remember that. Right now he couldn’t think of anything else but the baby. The idea that he was going to be a father had really hit him this week.
“You look concerned,” Dante said.
The two men hugged. “Hey, bro. Good to see you.”
“I figured this might be the last time I get out before Gwen has this baby.”
“Bet she’s ready.”
“Yeah, she’s uncomfortable and ready to have this done with,” Dante said.
“You excited?”