The Bonus

“Fire him.” I sit back in my seat, annoyed.

“You can’t fire him,” Alessio gasps as the boardroom falls silent.

“Watch me.” I push my intercom. “Greg, get Rodney Roberts up here, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Listen, I know this report is not great but he can improve on it, I’m sure.” Alessio fights his case.

“I agree with this, he’s trying. We need to give him another chance,” Victor chips in.

“We’ve already given him another chance and he didn’t come through, he can sponge on someone else’s time and money, not mine,” I snap.

“But…”

“Why do you soft cocks always feel sorry for people, this isn’t a fucking charity organization. If you don’t perform, you don’t get to keep your job, it’s as simple as that. He is at the top end of his game, he doesn’t have the privilege to be lazy.”

My intercom buzzes. “Yes,” I answer.

“Rodney Roberts is off sick today, sir.”

“Of course he is. Thank you.” My eyes flick to Alessio, and he winces. “The final nail in his coffin.”

“Can I take your order?” the waitress asks.

I glance over to Serafina, my date. “Cosa mangi?” (“What are you having?”)

“I’ll have what you’re having.” She smiles over at me.

I stare over the table at her. Grow a backbone, for fuck’s sake.

Ugh…

“A green salad and the lobster times two, please.” I close the menu and hand it over to the waitress.

Serafina is as beautiful as they come, tall, dark and with a body to die for, Italian to the bone, and nothing about her interests me in the slightest.

I think I’m broken.

I subtly glance at my watch, two hours until I can get the hell out of here.

Grace

Laughter and screams sound through my house as I chase two naked toddlers around with nappies. To them, getting out of the bath and having me chase them around with clothes is the funniest thing ever, and I have to admit, even I love it.

My babies are eighteen months old, the biggest blessing and the absolute loves of my life. Our home is filled with laughter and chaos but above all…so much love.

Dominic is the oldest, he has dark wavy hair and olive skin with big brown eyes, he’s a mini version of his father. Personality and all, he’s feisty and short-tempered, dominant and intelligent and the biggest mommy’s boy of all time. And then there’s Lucia, we call her Lucy for short. Although she looks like her father, with her dark hair and big brown eyes, she couldn’t be more different. Tiny compared to Dominic, she’s calm and placid with the sweetest little nature. She idolizes her brother and has a quiet confidence about her. While Dominic wants to sit curled up on my lap, Lucy prefers to sit with Buddy on the couch, she doesn’t want to sit on my lap, she’s so independent.

“Come on, guys, we need to be on time today,” I plead.

Dominic squeals with laughter and runs into my bedroom and dives onto the bed as I chase him. “You’re a little nudist, Dom.” I tackle him and roll him over to hold him down. “Stop squirming.” I put his nappy on as he laughs and tries to escape me. “Come on.” I try to act stern as I struggle to fight him. “We don’t have time for this today.”

I’m not lying, we really don’t. I go back to work next month, and today our new nanny arrives. I’ve concocted up a plan and in my head it makes perfect sense, but in reality, I have no idea how it’s actually going to turn out.

Deb and I have spent hours and hours discussing how the future is going to go down and one thing is strikingly clear: I need to prepare for the day they ask who their father is. I can lie to the world about artificial insemination, but I will never lie to them.

When they ask…and they will, I’ll tell them the truth.

I need to prepare them the best of my ability, I need them to learn about Italian culture, speak the language and appreciate the difference between our heritages.

I’ve hired a young Italian nanny, she arrives today.

She’s going to study teaching part-time at the college and live here rent free with pay, in exchange for minding the kids while I work three days a week and teaching them how to speak Italian.

They need to learn it along with English, now, in their formative years. And besides, it will kill two birds with one stone: I can go back to work and get a new roommate, the kids will benefit and she gets to live in America for a few years. It’s a win-win situation…I hope.

We stand at the arrival terminal; the children are sitting in their double stroller and are completely preoccupied with their muesli bars, their latest obsession, and I’m about to go into cardiac arrest.

This is a terrible idea, what the hell was I thinking?

A stranger living in my house…she could be a serial killer or anything. Those references could be completely doctored.

I get a vision of how feral the twins can be and my temperature rises. What if she’s a princess, I can’t deal with perfect princesses.

Our life is chaotic, and Buddy our dog sleeps on the couch when he isn’t supposed to and our house isn’t always tidy and…I begin to feel sick to my stomach.

What have I done?

My phone beeps a text.

Just getting off the plane now

She’s here.

I smile and nervously type back,

We’re at the arrival gate.

I’m the one with the double stroller.

The people begin to walk down the ramp and I watch on with my heart in my throat. “Look, here comes Maria,” I tell them. “Behave please, no tantrums today.” They keep munching on their muesli bars, totally uninterested in anything I say.

I see a young girl with dark hair, and she sees me and smiles and waves.

She’s wearing a gray tracksuit and her long dark hair is up in a high ponytail. She bounces over. “Grace?”

“Maria?” I smile awkwardly.

“I’m so glad to be here.” She laughs and pulls me into a hug. “Thank you so much for picking me up.”

She’s normal.

She bends down to lean into the stroller. “And who are you?”

“This is Maria,” I tell them. “This is Lucy and Dominic.”

“Hello, cuties.” She smiles.

Dominic accidently drops his muesli bar on the ground and without missing a beat, Maria bends and picks it up with her bare hands.

“Oh, that’s gross, sorry.” I wince. “Let me take that.”

“No, I’ve got it.” She pulls a tissue out of her pocket and wraps the sloppy muesli bar up. “We’ll get another one when we get home,” she tells him. “Lick your fingers.”

Dominic smiles up at her all awestruck and licks his fingers.

And just like that everything falls into place. Suddenly, I know that this is going to be wonderful. That she is going to be wonderful and the world is officially saved.

She gives me a big, friendly smile. “Let’s go home.”

I pull the car into the parking lot of the mechanic’s, damn it, this is a shit fight. I quickly give the car a neaten up and collect the receipts and coffee cups in the front console. Why does my car service always fall on the most chaotic of days? Maria had a college assignment due this morning, so I was up helping her with that until late last night, and then this morning Dominic was running through the house and bumped his head. To top it off, Buddy went out this morning and got completely covered in mud, came back through the doggy door and rubbed it all over the living room rug and couch as if it were a trophy.

Ugh… It’s been the morning from hell and I haven’t stopped running since the moment I woke up.

I would have canceled the car service if it were not for one small detail.

“Hey, you,” a raspy voice calls from inside the office and I smile.

“Hi, Russ.”

He walks out to greet me, light brown curly hair and olive skin, with the biggest blue eyes you ever saw.

My mechanic Russel is the hottest man in Greenville, not in a handsome bachelor kind of way. In a subtle the way he smiles kind of way.

Getting my car serviced is the highlight of my life.

He smiles and our gaze stays locked for a beat longer than it should. “Been too long since I saw you, Grace.”

“Well…” I drag my hand through my hair, he makes me giddy. “I can’t have my car serviced any more than I do, Russ. I think they call that stalking.”

“You can stalk me any day.” The air swirls between us.

My eyes drop to the tight blue jeans and his red flannelette check shirt. He has thick quads and ropey veins down his forearms, big broad shoulders.

Everything about Russ screams raw, unfiltered man.

We’ve had this flirty banter going on for over a year now but it never seems to eventuate to anything. I know he’s single and not a player, but that’s all I really know; he lives a little out of town and grew up here, but the rest of him is a mystery. From what I gather, nobody seems to know much about him.

He leans his behind on my car and crosses his feet at the ankles. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?”

“How . . .” He cuts himself off.

“What?” I ask impatiently. “Go on.”

“Do you want to go out some time?”

The floor spins.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah.” He gives me a smile. “I mean…I know you have the twins and it’s not⁠—”

“I have a nanny now.” I cut him off.

His eyebrows shoot up. “You do?”

“Uh-huh.” I shrug. “So, I can go out now…” I shrug again. “I mean, not all the time, but…sometimes. I have a little more freedom.”

He smiles and I feel it all the way to my toes. “Saturday night?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’ll pick you up around seven?” he asks.

Is this really happening?

“Uh-huh.”

He walks over to me. “You know, you’re saying uh-huh a lot.” He takes my face in his hands and looks down at me.

The air leaves my lungs at his touch, and the only thing that will come out of my mouth is a weak “Uh-huh.”

“You should probably kiss me to get me through until Saturday…uh-huh?”

“Uh-huh…”

His lips brush mine, softly but with the perfect amount of pressure.

Oh…

We kiss again and again and he pulls back and licks his lips as he stares down at me. “Your car isn’t the only thing I need to service today.”

“What?” I giggle, shocked.

“Grease and oil change.” He laughs.

“Pervert.”

“For me, I meant for me.”

“Sure you did.” I pull out of his grip and walk backward so I can keep looking at him. “I have to get to work.”

“How are you getting there?”

“Mr. Holdsworth, my neighbor, is picking me up from the main road, he’s out there waiting.”

“Did you forget something?”

“Nope, I think my work is done here this morning.”

He gives me a sexy smile. “I’m going to need your keys.”

“Oh, right.” Embarrassed, I dig through my bag and fetch my keys and hand them over, he grabs me all rough like and kisses me again. “You behave in Mr. Holdsworth’s car now.”

I burst out laughing. “He’s eighty-nine.”

“You could bring a petrified rock back to life with that kiss.”

I walk off toward the main road and I can feel his eyes watching me, and I have to concentrate on not jumping in the air and kicking up my heels in excitement.

Finally!

Saturday night, 7:08 p.m.

Headlights shine up the street and a car slowly pulls up in the driveway. “He’s here,” Maria calls.

“Okay,” I call back. Ever since Russ and I kissed last Tuesday, I’m like a little kid at Christmas. He woke something up in me that had been long forgotten, and I don’t remember ever being this excited for a date.

I think I’ve turned a corner and finally realized it’s okay to want something for me. It’s taken me three years of being a mom and many lectures from Deb and Maria to realize that I don’t need to feel guilty every time I do something that doesn’t revolve around my kids. I guess I always felt that, because I’m doing this parent thing on my own, that they should get every ounce of me and my time.

Tonight, that changes, no more all or nothing. I need to find a balance, happy home life and a man who…I smirk, who am I kidding?

I want a hot man to fuck me well, to use my body like I want to use his.

It’s been way too long.

A knock sounds at the door, and my heart skips a beat. Maria and I purposely wore the kids out today and did every activity on earth so that we could get them to bed before I go out. That way I have no excuse to be preoccupied with worrying about what’s going on at home. We both know me too well.

“Hello.” I hear Maria’s voice as she opens the door.

“Hello, I’m Russel.” His deep voice echoes through the house.

I take one last look in the mirror; I’m wearing a black fitted dress that Deb and I bought during the week, my hair is down and I’m wearing makeup and black lingerie.

Lingerie.

With my heart beating hard in my chest, I come down the stairs to see Russel standing at the front door with a homemade bunch of flowers. Our eyes meet and he smiles softly. “Hi.” He looks me up and down. “You look beautiful.”

“Hi.” I beam.

He passes me the flowers and I nearly melt into a puddle.

“I’ll put those into some water, you two get going.” Maria smiles as she looks between us as we stare at each other.

“Thanks.” I pass her the flowers and float out the door and out to Russel’s truck. He opens the door for me and then leans in. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you look?”

“You should kiss me.”

He rolls his lips. “Aren’t I supposed to wait until the end of the date to do that?”

“Nope.” I grab his face and bring it down to mine, our lips touch and the kiss is long, slow, and deep. “Dinner?” I murmur against his lips.

“What?” he pants, overcome with arousal. We kiss again and again and I can feel his erection as it leans up against my leg.

Yesssss…

Arousal screams through my body like a fire truck, we can’t go out like this.

“Takeout at your house?” I pant against his lips.

“Works for me.” He slams the door shut and nearly runs around to the driver’s side.

What the hell? We didn’t even make it out of my driveway.

We’re like animals.

I don’t remember driving to his house, I don’t remember getting out of the car or what furniture he has inside.

All I know is that now I’m in Russel’s bedroom and his eyes roam up and down my body as he slowly peels my dress off.

The lights are dimmed and the room is quiet, every breath between us is magnified.

Thump, thump, thump goes my heart. It’s been a long time since someone has seen me naked and I’ve had two children since then. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?

Say something.

“You are so gorgeous, Grace,” he murmurs as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply. “You’re all I think about.”

He throws me back onto the bed and spreads my legs, he looks up at me as he licks me there and I nearly jump off the bed.

The first time he touched me was with his tongue. I smile goofily up at the ceiling.

I need this.

Gabriel

I walk out of my building and see Mark standing by the car, he gives me a weak smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Good morning.” He opens the back door for me.

“Hello,” I say as I get into the car.

We pull out into the traffic and I watch him in the rearview mirror, his face is etched with worry.

“What is it?” I ask.

His eyes flick up to me. “What’s what?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” He exhales heavily.

“Don’t lie to me, you’ve been a sad sack of shit all week.”

He rolls his eyes and keeps driving, and I can’t stand it. “Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull the fucking car over.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

He pulls the car over to the side and I get out of the car and open his car door. “Get out.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m driving today.”

He stares at me, confused. “What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

“Get in the passenger seat, you idiot. Unless you want to walk home.”

He rolls his eyes and walks around to get into the front passenger seat, and I pull back out onto the road.

He looks over at me. “What are you doing?”

“Driving.”

“Why?”

“Because when I’m depressive and moody, you drive me, so now it’s my turn to drive you.”

“I’m not depressive and moody.”

“Good, because that’s my position around here.”

We drive in silence for a while.

“Depressive isn’t even a word,” he says casually as he looks out the window.

I keep driving.

“And for the record, you’re not depressive, you’re just moody,” he continues.

“Well…for the record.” I stop at the traffic lights. “I’m not moody, people are just imbeciles.”

“Are you calling me an imbecile?”

“One hundred percent. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Silence.

“I’m driving around this city until you tell me and I don’t have time for your bullshit, spit it out.”

He drags his hand through his hair. “Zoe gets married this weekend.”

My heart sinks.

Zoe was his childhood sweetheart who left him when he was on a deployment. She said she couldn’t put her life on hold for a man who goes to war.

“Well…” I grip the steering wheel. “Good riddance to her.”

He nods sadly.

“You are seeing someone else, why do you care what Zoe is doing?” I ask as I turn another corner.

Silence.

He shrugs. “I’m not seeing her anymore.”

“Oh. Why not?”

“I just… I compare everyone to her, you know?”

I do know.

I listen as I drive.

“And I know we can’t be together and I don’t even want to be, but…” He hesitates.

“But what?” I ask.

“Thinking of Zoe takes me back to a time in my life when I was happy and everything was simple because she was the only girl in the world that I wanted.”

The traffic comes to a standstill.

“Every woman just seems so average.”

“Amen to that.” I sigh. “I thought it was just me.”

We keep driving in silence.

“Maybe we’re just getting old and maybe the thrill we used to get from love has lost its luster,” he says.

“It’s possible.” I shrug. “Probable, actually.”

I turn another corner as we drive and an idea comes to mind.

I call the office.

“Good morning, Mr. Ferrara,” Isabell answers.

“I won’t be in today.”

“Ahh.” She hesitates. “You have a fully booked day, sir.”

“Reschedule everything.”

“Are you unwell?” she asks.

I hit end call. “Mind your business,” I mutter under my breath.

“Why did you call in?” Mark asks. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to Vegas for the weekend.”

“Why?”

“Gambling, alcohol and strippers,” I reply as I drive.

“You think playing poker, drinking scotch, and fucking multiple high-end strippers is going to get me over Zoe?”

“No.” I shrug. “But it will be fun.” I glance over at him and he smirks.

“You owe me four hundred dollars, by the way,” I tell him.

“For what?”

“I’m not being your therapist for free, you know?”

He rolls his lips to hide his smile. “What kind of therapist offers gambling, alcohol, and cheap sex as treatment?”

“The fun kind.”

Twelve months later.

I follow the two girls down the pier toward my yacht as they totter along in their skin-tight dresses and sky-high stilettos, giggling and tipsy. Giovanna has long dark hair and a body to die for, and Amara is her identical twin. “What happens when we get to your yacht?” Amara smiles sexily over her shoulder.

“You both get on your knees, that’s what.” I gesture to my yacht. “Keep walking.”

They both laugh as they continue to walk, they’re going to fucking get it.

We are in St. Tropez in the South of France; I’ve been in Italy for a month and called in here on my way home. We arrive at the yacht, and Mark is waiting at the end of the gangplank. His eyes roam over the two gorgeous women I’m with. “Evening, sir.”

“Good evening, Mark.”

He unhooks the black rope to allow access and the two girls laugh and chat as they walk onto my yacht.

“Lucky prick,” he mutters under his breath.

I smirk. “I’d ask you to join us…”

He raises his eyebrow, suddenly interested.

“But I don’t share.”

“Fuck you,” he whispers.

I chuckle and walk across the gangplank and onto my yacht. I look around for the girls. “Where are you?” I call.

“Up here.”

I take the stairs two at a time and once at the top and into my bedroom, I find them both naked and on their knees, waiting for me.

My cock thumps in appreciation. “Good girls.”

Grace

I read the text from Deb.

I need to see you

Urgently.

Can we have lunch today?

Huh?

I text her.

What’s wrong?

I wait for her reply.

Nothing is wrong but I need to see you.

Jeez, I wonder if she’s fighting with Scott. I reply.

I have lunch at 12:30

Meet at usual place?

A reply bounces straight back.

Okay see you then.

Twelve forty, I walk into Chachi’s to see Debbie sitting at the back, and I wave as I make my way to her. “Are you okay?” I ask as I kiss her cheek.

“I’m fine, but you need to sit down.”

“What’s wrong?” I slump into the seat.

“I could be the worst friend in the world for wrecking this surprise, but I’ve been thinking about it all night and I want you to be prepared and not ruin this.”

“For what?” I frown.

“Russel is going to propose.”

My face falls. “What?”

“He called over yesterday to ask me what kind of ring you would want.”

I stare at her, horrified.

“And he’s going to go all out with a grand proposal, and I just want you to be excited when he does it, you know?”

The walls begin to close in around me.

“Russel is a great guy, Grace.” She takes my hand across the table.

My eyes well with tears. “Why would he want to get married?”

“Because he loves you and you’ve been together for two years now. You guys are great together.”

“And you told me because…”

“Because I knew you would react like this and I wanted it to be to me and not him. He doesn’t deserve to see your face fall.”

Sheer terror begins to run rampant through my body. “I don’t want to get married, Deb.”

“Why not?”

Her silhouette blurs and I get a lump in my throat, unable to articulate myself.

“Russel is a great guy,” she tells me.

“I know he is.”

“And you two have great chemistry, and the sex is great.”

“I know.”

“And he loves you and he’s great with the kids. Remember how incredible he was when Buddy died?”

I put my head into my hands.

“You should be jumping from the rooftops in excitement.”

“I should.”

“The only reason I told you is because deep down, I knew you wouldn’t be.”

“How?” I ask.

“What?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t be excited?”

She stares at me for a beat. “I watch the two of you together and it’s obvious that his affection is greater than yours. His commitment to the relationship is stronger than yours. He’s one hundred percent all in, and you’re…just not.”

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me,” I whisper. “Russel is my dream guy, everything about him is perfect. But…” My voice trails off.

“He’s not him.”

“This has nothing to do with Gabriel,” I snap, annoyed.

“Doesn’t it?” she snaps back. “I think it does. I think you’re still hopelessly in love with Gabriel Ferrara, and no man, no matter how perfect he is will ever live up to him.”

“That’s complete bullshit. I haven’t thought of Gabriel in years.”

“Grace.” She squeezes my hand in hers. “You need to learn to love what’s good for you.”

Her silhouette blurs.

“Russel is good for you.” She gives me a sad smile. “He loves you.”

“I know.”

“If you don’t love him enough to marry him, you need to stop being selfish and let him go so that he can find someone else.”

I screw up my face in tears. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“Then don’t.” She smiles. “Marry him, be happy. Because that’s what you deserve. A man that worships the ground you walk on.”

The thought of marrying Russel rolls my stomach, in fact the thought of marrying anyone rolls my stomach.

“Please, Grace. Think on this, don’t mess up a perfect relationship because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared, Deb, that isn’t it.”

“What is it, then?”

“The reality is…” sadness fills me to say this out loud, “…something is missing with Russ.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. If I knew, I would fix it.”

Gabriel

I slide the king into place. “Checkmate.”

Mark rolls his eyes.

“Beating you is becoming boring.” I sigh.

“I only play with you because you pay me to,” he replies dryly.

I chuckle and sip my scotch.

“Why are we playing chess on a Saturday night, anyway?” he asks.

My eyes roam over to the wall of windows and the twinkling New York lights way down below. “I don’t know.” I sip my scotch. “Do you ever get the feeling that there is something missing?”

“How so?”

“I don’t know, I have everything…and yet.”

“If you want something more when you live the life you do, then the rest of us mere mortals are screwed,” he replies.

I sip my drink again as I drift into deep thought. “Maybe I should get married.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Ariana is . . .”

“Perfect.” I cut him off.

He nods.

We start a new game of chess as we both fall into our own thoughts. “I always thought when I met the one, I would be chomping at the bit to make it legal,” I say as I think out loud.

“Not sure if I’ll ever get married, to be honest,” Mark replies.

“I want children.”

“You need children to pass all this crap down to.” He gestures around my apartment.

“For the record, my eighty-million-dollar penthouse is not crap.”

He chuckles. “But does it make you happy?”

“No.” My eyes roam around the penthouse. “Doesn’t appear to.”

“So are you going to marry Ariana?”

“No.”

“Who are you going to marry then, if not her?”

“I don’t know. Ariana is beautiful and adoring, Italian and everything I should want. We’ve been together for over a year and I do love her.”

“But you’re not in love with her?”

“Maybe I’m incapable of it.”

“Probably.” He thinks for a moment. “You owe me five hundred bucks.”

“For what?”

“I’m not being your therapist for free, you know.”

“What solution have you given me, you just told me I’m incapable of love,” I fire back. “And since when did your price rise?”

He chuckles. “The truth is costly.”

I walk into my apartment just on six and see rose petals scattered up the hall.

What the hell is this?

“Ariana?” I call, confused. As I keep walking, more rose petals. “Ariana?” I turn the corner and see a huge love heart on the floor made of rose petals with flickering candles and music and Ariana is on one knee.

No.

“What…”

“I love you.” She smiles up at me. “I know you’re supposed to be the one to ask, but I can’t wait any longer.”

No.

“Sweetheart…I just.”

“Will you marry me, Gabriel?” she asks hopefully as she looks up at me.

My heart sinks. The very last thing I want to do is hurt this beautiful woman.

“I love you so much,” she whispers through tears. “Make me the happiest woman alive and become my husband.”

And this is it, the moment where I have to choose what I know is good for me. I drop to my knees in front of her, torn between begging for forgiveness that she has to put up with me and the need to run as far away as I physically can. “Yes.” I softly kiss her lips.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”