Someone Exactly Like Me by Debbie Cromack
4
Nicco
I walk out to the terrace attached to our suite to have a cigarette and take in the view of the city. Getting the lighter out of my pants pocket, I flip it over in my hand a couple times, losing myself in the worn design as I rub my thumb across it, the way I’ve done thousands of times before. It’s the only piece of my dad I have left. I think he would be proud of me, of what I’ve accomplished and made of myself. But there’s so much more I want to do.
Mindlessly taking a cigarette out of the pack, I clasp it between my lips. Swallowing the lump that’s choking my throat, I flick open my lighter and watch the flame dance. Touching the dancing flame to the end of the cigarette, I watch it ignite. Sucking in deeply, I let the first drag fill my lungs with the toxic, beautiful gray death that took my dad from me.
Another inhale flows from my core out to my arms and legs, relaxing me as I stare out into the twinkling lights of the city. Los Angeles, L.A., Hollywood, the American dream. I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to make it happen. I’m going to work my fucking ass off and make the right connections to build my American dream, right here in Hollywood.
Visions of my dream-life fill my head. A lavish home, luxury cars, parties with celebrities — the high life. A twinge of emptiness hollows a hole in my heart knowing I’ll experience all of this alone. Another drag to fill the hole and blur the thought with a haze of smoke.
Loneliness is the cross I bear. One I’ve become accustomed to carrying. Though Destiny may be right and the world sees me as a playboy, it’s the only way I know how to fulfill my needs given the impossibility of ever having love.
After Ana, I understood my only value to women and I’ve kept my relationships with them purely sexual. I get my needs met, they get their needs met, nothing more. I know how to fuck. And I’m really good at it. Sure, it’s empty and meaningless, but it serves its purpose.
I’m used to women readily spreading their legs for me. Something tells me Destiny is not the kind of woman I’m used to. This woman non-verbally commands respect. I have a feeling when I earn my way between Destiny’s legs, it’s going to be very different and hot as fuck.
She’s a feisty little thing. Though I know my truth and it’s what I’ve come to accept, something about her view of me disturbs me deep inside. In a place I burned and exiled four years ago.
Destiny. She amuses me. She intrigues me. And now she’s challenged me. Though part of me wants to convince her I’m more than what she perceives, I’m not sure I’m capable of following through. Proving that I’m not just a playboy would mean exposing parts of me I no longer want the world to see. Not now, not ever.
I suck the last glorious drag and tap out my cigarette in the black marble ashtray sitting on the glass-topped table.
She’ll be done by now.
Stepping back into the suite, I don’t see her. Candi is dancing with the group and I go over to her.
“Did Destiny leave?” I ask, raising my voice over the music, hoping she hasn’t left. I’ll be pissed if she left alone in her condition.
She shakes her head. “No. She had to pee and Gigi was in this one so she went down to the public one.” She points through the opening and toward the restroom on the level below.
As Candi continues dancing, I step away from the group and watch for Destiny.
Destiny
After standing in line for about ten minutes, I’m finally hiding in solitude in a stall, regretting that I didn’t stay in the suite and wait for Giovanna to finish, but also relieved to be away from the group, and Nicco.
With my feet sticking to the floor, I try to wrap my head around what transpired during the last hour. With dozens of women ready to be in his company, and in his pants, at the snap of his fingers, why in the world is Nicco wasting his time talking to me? In my fuzzy head, no logical answer comes to mind. As I squat above the toilet, staring down at sassy white shoes that don’t belong to me, the white veins in the black marble beneath my feet begin swirling together. Yup, I’m tipsy. It’s time for me to go home. Before exiting the stall, I take a deep breath and blow it out. This is thirty. Happy birthday.
On my way back to the suite, the same man from earlier steps out in front of me as his friends close in behind me. “Where you goin’ so fast?” he slurs.
Adrenaline shoots through me. “Oh, I’m here with my friends.” Stay calm. I attempt to walk past him, but he steps in front of me again.
“How’s about you get your friends and bring ‘em over here and we’ll all get to know each other?” he asks sloppily as he sways.
“Uh, thanks, but we’re actually leaving,” I say, trying to conceal my trembling.
He tugs at his already loosened necktie. “Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.” He steps toward me and I step back. Shit. Why did I drink so much?
With my next shaky breath, Nicco steps between two of the men and stands directly in front of me, turning his back to me and facing the drunk man. “Is there a problem here?”
“No man, no problem. We’re just talkin’ to her.”
“She’s with me.” He reaches an arm behind himself, holding me against his back. Safety replaces my fear.
“Oh, yeah?” he hurls.
I can’t see what’s happening, but it sounds like the situation is escalating.
“Yeah.” Nicco stands firm and doesn’t move, continuing to keep his hand holding me against him.
“Well, maybe she doesn’t wanna be.”
Nicco nods his head and, within seconds, two bouncers are standing behind the men behind us.
“Are we gonna have a problem tonight guys?” one of the bouncers asks.
“Nope,” the drunk man answers. The men separate, making space for Nicco and me to walk away. “No problem.”
“I didn’t think so,” the bouncer says.
Nicco reaches around, takes my hand in his, and ushers me in front of him as we walk between the men. My heart lurches and pounds in my chest. While I know his words were dictated by the situation and didn’t mean anything, the way he claimed me as his was kind of flattering. I’ve never felt so protected by a man. Yeah, Henry would not have done well in that situation.
Nicco leads us through the crowd of dancing bodies. It takes me two steps to keep up with his long-legged strides. He marches us down the hallway and presses the elevator button. Now that we’re alone, he releases my hand and paces while we wait. When the elevator doors open, he nudges me in with his hand on the small of my back. The doors close behind us and he puts his large hands on my waist, turning me to face. Towering above me, he places his hands against the wall on either side of me. His arms stiff, he hangs his head above me.
“Why did you put yourself in danger like that?” With nostrils flaring, his anger startles me. “Do you not see how sexy you are? Men like that will eat you alive and take advantage of you. You should’ve stayed in the suite.” He withdraws his hands, turns away from me, and then turns back to face me. Curling his hand under my chin, he gently strokes my cheek with his thumb. Concern replaces the anger in his eyes. “They could’ve easily hurt you.”
Though I’m startled, his protectiveness is comforting and my nerves temper. And sexy? Maybe he had more drinks than I saw. Maybe I’m so tipsy I didn’t hear him correctly. There’s no way this man looks at me and thinks, “sexy.”
Nicco
I look down into her soft blue eyes. With her blonde hair and alabaster skin, her beauty is undeniable. While I’m sure she can stand up for herself, I didn’t like watching her so helpless surrounded by those assholes. I’m glad I got to her in time before something happened. I’m not typically an angry person, but when she was in danger, my blood vibrated.
“Thank you for coming to get me.” Her gentle voice is like soft music in my ears and I’m frozen. Frozen by a longing I haven’t felt — I’ve denied — for years. One brief glance at her lips.
After Ana, I refused to let myself kiss a woman. Unless I’m getting paid to play a role that requires it, I don’t kiss women on the lips. Sex is sex. That’s all it’s become for me. I don’t need to entangle it with emotions or the intimacy of a kiss. Yet right now, looking down into Destiny’s eyes, it’s all I can do to keep myself from leaning in and capturing her lips.
The elevator doors open and I turn around to the opening. She walks past me and toward Candi as I head to the bar. Barry comes over to me and I order another whiskey and a s’mores martini then ease back into the bar stool and watch Destiny and Candi talk.
As Barry sets my drink down, Destiny takes her purse from Candi, gets out her phone, and slings her purse onto her shoulder. After checking something on her phone, she hugs Candi. I take a sip of my drink, peeking over the rim at Destiny’s long, milky legs slide out between the fabric of her jumpsuit as she walks toward me.
“Nicco, thank you so much for getting this suite for my birthday. It was a very unexpected gesture and I appreciate it.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” I want to know more about her and I’m not letting her out of my sight after what happened.
She looks down toward her feet and a silky curl of her hair falls forward. When she looks back up at me, she tucks the hair behind her ear with her slender fingers.
“Yes, I — it’s getting late, and I — really should get home.”
I’m so used to pretentiousness women and Destiny’s shyness is charming.
“Stay. Let me get you at least one birthday drink.”
“You really don’t have to do that. You’ve already done all this.” She spreads her arms and looks around the suite.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“I really think I should go. I already ordered an Uber.”
“Uber? No. Cancel it. I’ll take you and Candi home when you’re ready to go. Please, have one drink with me.” I gesture toward the bar stool.
She hesitates and her eyes shift to Candi and then back to me. “Um, okay.” She slides into the bar stool and taps on her phone, cancelling the Uber.
Barry sets the martini on a cocktail napkin in front of her.
“Wow, you’re fast,” she says, smiling at him.
“So, tell me.” I draw her attention back to me and put my suit jacket around her shoulders again. “How did you know you wanted to be a romance author? Is that what your parents do?”
“Thank you. Oh no. My dad’s retired and my mom’s in the film industry.” She pauses. “But actually, I suppose my mom’s job influenced me a little. She’s worked on a lot of romantic comedy films over the years and those stories have stuck with me.”
Hmm, her mom works in the film industry. Interesting.
“What does she do?”
“She’s a director. Twenty-two years now. She’s worked on some amazing projects. I’m so proud of her and the work she does.” She runs the tip of her tongue along the edge of her glass, licking the crushed graham crackers and chocolate syrup. My eyes are drawn to her mouth with a force I can’t stop. She doesn’t mean it to be sexual, but holy hell does it turn me on.
As she takes a sip of her martini, a thought pops into my head. A really fucking good thought.
“So, I have an idea. And, I think maybe it’s something we can both benefit from.”
“Yeah?” She turns her head to the side a bit and a crinkle forms between her brows. “What in the world would benefit both of us?”
“Okay, hear me out. You could use some help getting your career back on track, right?”
“Yes.”
“My agents in Italy are great, but I’m looking for connections here in America so I can transition my career here.”
“Okay.” She shakes her head with a blank expression.
“I have a massive audience of women who like reading romance books. What if I allow you to write a book where I’m your main character as I was in Don Matteo? Then I can promote you and your book to my audience.”
“Okay. And?” Her expression is tight as she folds her arms across her chest.
“What if you put me in touch with your mom and I work with her to make connections out here for my career? I know there’s no guarantee of any kind. And your only obligation is to connect us.”
She leans back in her stool, arms still crossed and eyes shifting from side to side.
“I’d like to adjust the terms of this deal.” She uncrosses and recrosses her sexy legs, causing a quick spurt of adrenaline through me. She’s quite alluring when her guard is down.
“Okay. How?” She has me intrigued.
“How about my main character is you, Niccolo Mancini?”
Now I cross my arms over my chest. “Me.”
“You,” she states matter-of-fact. “Not you as someone else, a character, a role. Just you as you. Now, I do write fiction, so there will be elements I create that are fictional, but the hero is you, Niccolo Mancini, in as much as you’ll agree to let me write. You let me interview you and I’ll write a love story around what you share.”
She plays kind of dirty. And while I’m amused by this sassy side of her, I’m not sure I’m willing to let the world see that much of me. I need a cigarette.
I stand up. “Do you mind if I have a cigarette?”
“Yes, I do.” Her bluntness freezes me.
Looking down into her beautiful face, I’m again struck with an urge to kiss her, to taste her lips.
“I need to think about this.”
“I can give you access to the world you want. All you have to do is agree,” she says, metaphorically holding my balls in the palm of her hand.
I trace her delicate features with my eyes then lock my gaze on her eyes. “I’ll be right back,” I say, releasing our gaze and stepping away.
“I’ll see if Candi wants to catch an Uber home.”
My body stiffens and I turn back to face her, spinning her stool to face me. I hang my head above her so she has to look up at me. “I’m taking you home,” I stress. “I won’t be long. Don’t leave.”
I stalk away from her and out to the terrace. Forgoing my usual ritual, I quickly light my cigarette and consider her adjustment to the deal I suggested. It sounds like she’ll only write what I agree to. So, I can keep private what I want to keep private and only share what I’m willing to share. A few long drags on my cigarette, I blow the smoke out my nostrils and decide to accept her adjustment in return for the chance at my American dream.
Two things have me excited right now, the possibility of making my dreams come true by working in Hollywood and the thought of spending time with Destiny. One things has me nervous, sharing the personal side of my life.