Shadow Rider
Page 88
Francesca winced. This was what she’d be putting up with every time she went anywhere in Stefano’s circle. His women appeared to be legion and all of them were famous.
“Why fight over him and all three of us lose?” Janice added. “When we can share and all of us have him?”
“He’s man enough to go around.” Stella ran one finger down her clingy short dress. “We texted him last night that we’d be in town.”
Francesca felt the burn of tears. She’d been with Stefano and his phone had gone off so many times. Not once had she paid attention. Not once had she suspected women had been texting or calling him.
Doreen’s laughter was a mere tinkle that irritated Francesca. “We sent him a few pictures of what he could look forward to.” Again the three women exchanged a long sultry look and then burst into laughter.
That meant Stefano had their pictures on his phone. Francesca could well imagine what those pictures were like. The room was suddenly far too hot. Her lungs felt raw, burning, unable to drag in enough air. Her stomach churned and she pressed her hands tight to it, afraid she might throw up right there in front of all three of them.
The smile had died on Joanna’s face. She looked as if she’d been struck. She had fantasies about the Ferraro brothers and it didn’t include finding out they weren’t husband material.
Emmanuelle sighed. “When are the three of you going to get some pride? Stefano made it very clear that he was done with you last year. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t have relationships. That was made clear to you. Quit stalking him. That’s what it’s called when you won’t leave him alone.”
“How do you know we haven’t seen him in a year?” Stella sneered. “He wouldn’t want to tell his little sister what he’s been getting all this time.”
Francesca wanted to cover her ears. Could the evening get any worse? She didn’t think so. She needed to get out of there. Now. She looked around, trying to find a way to escape. Why had she believed she had a chance with Stefano? Could she have been any more ridiculous? She’d wanted to cling to him because he made her feel safe. Beautiful. Sexy. Wanted. Lord, but he could make her feel wanted.
“That’s so disgusting. He doesn’t want you, any of you, and certainly not the three of you together.” Emmanuelle poured contempt into her voice. She took a sip of her drink, looking more elegant than ever.
Suddenly the three women didn’t look nearly as beautiful and sophisticated as Francesca had first thought. They looked . . . skanky.
“You have no idea of his needs in the bedroom,” Doreen spat out, pure venom in her eyes. “You think you’re so high and mighty, Emmanuelle—you always have. We know what Stefano likes and we give it to him.”
Joanna’s gasp was audible. Doreen swung on her. “That’s right, Miss Mouse. Stefano is an adult, all male. Pure male. You could never hope to understand a man like that. None of you could.” She turned, whipping her hair around, and stormed down the steps, her two bandmates following.
Emmanuelle let out her breath in a little hiss of anger. “Well, that was unpleasant.” She leaned toward Francesca again. “You can’t believe the things they’re saying about my brother. They just aren’t true.”
“Of course they’re true,” Francesca said. “I saw his picture with each of them. He was with them. He had sex with them. There’s no taking that back, and last night when I was with Stefano, his phone kept going off. He would look at it, sometimes text and other times he’d shove it in his pocket. I thought he was getting requests for his help like he always does, but instead he was getting naked sex pictures.” She was ashamed of the little sob in her voice. “I have to get out of here.”
Emmanuelle put her hand on Francesca’s arm, staying her mad dash for freedom. “Don’t. At least talk to Stefano before you run. He deserves that much, doesn’t he?”
Francesca took a deep breath, her every instinct telling her to run while she could. Once Stefano was close to her, every brain cell she had seemed to short-circuit. She shook her head and picked up her drink again.
“I’ve got to attend a quick meeting,” Emmanuelle said with a little scowl. “I’ll send Stefano to you as fast as I can. I tell them meetings need to be conducted outside the club,” she added, trying to interject humor into the situation. “Inside is for fun. Drink and dance. You know, those fun things. I don’t think my brothers understand the concept.” Emmanuelle shook her head and drifted away.
“Why fight over him and all three of us lose?” Janice added. “When we can share and all of us have him?”
“He’s man enough to go around.” Stella ran one finger down her clingy short dress. “We texted him last night that we’d be in town.”
Francesca felt the burn of tears. She’d been with Stefano and his phone had gone off so many times. Not once had she paid attention. Not once had she suspected women had been texting or calling him.
Doreen’s laughter was a mere tinkle that irritated Francesca. “We sent him a few pictures of what he could look forward to.” Again the three women exchanged a long sultry look and then burst into laughter.
That meant Stefano had their pictures on his phone. Francesca could well imagine what those pictures were like. The room was suddenly far too hot. Her lungs felt raw, burning, unable to drag in enough air. Her stomach churned and she pressed her hands tight to it, afraid she might throw up right there in front of all three of them.
The smile had died on Joanna’s face. She looked as if she’d been struck. She had fantasies about the Ferraro brothers and it didn’t include finding out they weren’t husband material.
Emmanuelle sighed. “When are the three of you going to get some pride? Stefano made it very clear that he was done with you last year. He doesn’t date. He doesn’t have relationships. That was made clear to you. Quit stalking him. That’s what it’s called when you won’t leave him alone.”
“How do you know we haven’t seen him in a year?” Stella sneered. “He wouldn’t want to tell his little sister what he’s been getting all this time.”
Francesca wanted to cover her ears. Could the evening get any worse? She didn’t think so. She needed to get out of there. Now. She looked around, trying to find a way to escape. Why had she believed she had a chance with Stefano? Could she have been any more ridiculous? She’d wanted to cling to him because he made her feel safe. Beautiful. Sexy. Wanted. Lord, but he could make her feel wanted.
“That’s so disgusting. He doesn’t want you, any of you, and certainly not the three of you together.” Emmanuelle poured contempt into her voice. She took a sip of her drink, looking more elegant than ever.
Suddenly the three women didn’t look nearly as beautiful and sophisticated as Francesca had first thought. They looked . . . skanky.
“You have no idea of his needs in the bedroom,” Doreen spat out, pure venom in her eyes. “You think you’re so high and mighty, Emmanuelle—you always have. We know what Stefano likes and we give it to him.”
Joanna’s gasp was audible. Doreen swung on her. “That’s right, Miss Mouse. Stefano is an adult, all male. Pure male. You could never hope to understand a man like that. None of you could.” She turned, whipping her hair around, and stormed down the steps, her two bandmates following.
Emmanuelle let out her breath in a little hiss of anger. “Well, that was unpleasant.” She leaned toward Francesca again. “You can’t believe the things they’re saying about my brother. They just aren’t true.”
“Of course they’re true,” Francesca said. “I saw his picture with each of them. He was with them. He had sex with them. There’s no taking that back, and last night when I was with Stefano, his phone kept going off. He would look at it, sometimes text and other times he’d shove it in his pocket. I thought he was getting requests for his help like he always does, but instead he was getting naked sex pictures.” She was ashamed of the little sob in her voice. “I have to get out of here.”
Emmanuelle put her hand on Francesca’s arm, staying her mad dash for freedom. “Don’t. At least talk to Stefano before you run. He deserves that much, doesn’t he?”
Francesca took a deep breath, her every instinct telling her to run while she could. Once Stefano was close to her, every brain cell she had seemed to short-circuit. She shook her head and picked up her drink again.
“I’ve got to attend a quick meeting,” Emmanuelle said with a little scowl. “I’ll send Stefano to you as fast as I can. I tell them meetings need to be conducted outside the club,” she added, trying to interject humor into the situation. “Inside is for fun. Drink and dance. You know, those fun things. I don’t think my brothers understand the concept.” Emmanuelle shook her head and drifted away.
