The man and the woman in red shared a quick word before he passed by Corrado, Alessio, and Ginevra to head back into the main section of The Clubhouse. With the podium free so they could check out, retrieve their electronics that everyone was required to drop off upon entering, Corrado stepped up to finish their time here.
As soon as he left Ginevra’s side, Alessio was quick to take his place, sliding an arm around her waist to keep her close to him. Corrado didn’t miss the way the woman in red narrowed her eyes at that, or how her lips pursed when the two he left behind shared a quiet word, and Alessio kissed Ginevra’s temple.
Not that he could say anything about her staring again. The chick at the podium was now pulling the phones out of a small drawer behind her and had the tablet on their information to remove them from the current patrons list.
“Camden wanted you to be aware that, should you bring your guest again,” Kasie told him, “she will need to be made a member. You know the rules, Mr. Guzzi. Once is fine—twice, she’ll need a card.”
Corrado nodded.
He understood the specifics.
It was all about safety here.
“What is it, three members who need to vouch?”
“Correct.”
Corrado tapped a finger against the podium, saying, “Me, Les, and Marcus ... we’ll add him to it, have Camden call him to get it done. Does that work for you?”
“Sign here.”
He took the stylus the woman held out and scribbled his unintelligible signature to the bottom of a form she’d brought up on the tablet. There was one on him, and one on Alessio, too.
“And he must sign it, as well. I can email the one over for Marcus after Camden calls first to make sure he’s fine with it.”
Corrado waved two fingers at Alessio, and his silent demand for the man to come over worked. Alessio left Ginevra’s side, coming to stand next to Corrado so he, too, could sign the document. There were a few others things they had to fill out—standard information that The Clubhouse kept on file for all members.
It took five minutes.
It would allow them to bring Ginevra back, though, and she seemed to like it here. Or rather, the restaurant portion, anyway. There was a hell of a lot more to see.
“That’s all,” Kasie said.
“Merci,” Corrado said.
Alessio handed the stylus over as he had been the last to initial a part of the document. “Are we good?”
“Perfect.”
“Great.”
The two of them turned, ready to take Ginevra home.
“I’m just saying, it’s interesting,” he heard a woman say.
The woman in red.
Somehow, with their backs turned, she stood next to Ginevra. Which wouldn’t be such a big deal, or a problem at all, if not for the fact Ginevra looked like she was about to cry. She avoided the woman’s stare next to her, her jaw tight, and her arms folded over her chest. If it wasn’t clear, by the fact she wasn’t talking, that she wasn’t interested in a conversation, then her body language sure as hell should have done it.
Still, the woman in red continued, saying, “If you know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually.”
Ouch.
The venom in Ginevra’s tone wasn’t missed.
“Huh,” the other woman said.
What the fuck?
“Ginny,” Corrado said, stepping forward while shooting daggers at the woman next to her with his gaze, “are you good?”
He offered his hand.
She didn’t take it.
Alessio cleared his throat, but stayed quiet.
“Are you ready to leave?” Corrado asked.
They could figure out the problem later. He wanted to get her away from the bitch beside her. Whatever the issue was, it started and ended right there.
“I am ready to leave,” Ginevra said stiffly.
She still didn’t take his hand.
And she sidestepped Alessio, too.
They followed her out.
What else could they do?
• • •
“Ginevra, will you talk now?”
“I would rather not.”
“Ginny—”
“Leave me alone for a minute, okay?” She kicked those Louboutin shoes off in the hallway, the red-soled shoes smacking the wall hard. “I need five seconds to think.”
“About what?”
“Corrado,” Alessio murmured.
He ignored the man behind him.
Mostly, because he didn’t understand what happened back at The Clubhouse in five minutes that turned their fantastic evening into ... whatever the fuck this was. She had been having fun—enjoying her time with them out of this goddamn penthouse, because fuck, she didn’t get that enough.
And somehow, it was ruined.
Corrado wanted to understand why.
He needed to fix everything.
That was his thing.
“Give her a second,” Alessio said when Corrado moved to follow Ginevra down the hall.
He shook off Alessio’s hand that came to land on his arm. “Don’t.”
“Corrado—”
“What the hell happened, Les? Don’t you care about what went wrong?”
Alessio shrugged, his face unreadable. “Sometimes, people need to work through shit.”
Right.
Well ...
“That doesn’t work for me,” Corrado said.
“That’s half your problem. You don’t let shit go, man.”
“And we wouldn’t be here if I did.”
Alessio nodded. “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Noted.”
Not that it made a fucking difference to him.
Corrado didn’t bother to take the time to remove his jacket or shoes before following Ginevra. He stood in the doorway of her bedroom and watched as she struggled to pull the zipper down on the back of her dress.
She didn’t ask for help, so he stayed back.
Finally, she got the dress down. Yanking the expensive fabric down her body, the dress fell to the floor in a heap, forgotten. Standing in black lace that hugged her curves in the best way, he had a view that showed all the parts of her that had his dick standing at attention in a breath. And yet, all he focused on was that anger written across her pretty features.
She let out a harsh noise, pulling the drop earrings from her ears, and shaking her head at the same time.
“Do you want help with the necklace?” he asked, staying put in the doorway.
“No.”
He straightened, her sharp tone taking him by surprise. Rarely did Ginevra get heated with her tone, even in her anger. She didn’t need fury to get her point across, not when she wanted to.
“What is wrong with—”
“I said to give me a minute, didn’t I?”
Corrado stayed put and shrugged as he tossed his hands in his pockets. “And yet, here I still am. Something clearly upset you back at The Clubhouse, and I want you to tell me what.”
“You don’t get to know everything because you want to, Corrado. That’s not how life works, okay? People have feelings—private feelings.”
“Right, but since, chances are, this has to do with me, or Les, or that chick who talked to you, I think you could at least tell me what happened.”
“Or you should leave it the fuck alone.”