Page 162 of Mafia Billionaire's Surprise Baby
“Yeah, I know,” she sighs. “Daddy tells me that people get really weirded out when they hear about the PhD. I don’t care though. I love it and I know it’s weird.”
“It’s not weird. It’s really damn impressive.” My mind goes back over some of the things she said. “Wait. And you model?”
“Yeah. That started out as like a fun thing, but then I got the cover of Vogue France and it kind of blew up from there.”
I’ll bet it did.
“Okay. Well. Thank you,” I say lamely.
Stassi shrugs. “Totally.”
“So now, we…”
“I have to wait to see if they have an idea where she is.”
“Oh,” I nod. “That’s logical.”
“Like, if the Irish have her here, she’s probably hidden. But that guy,” she points to someone who looks like a cross between an orc and a giant that’s lumbering across the dock, “likes blondes.”
“Oh, does he?”
“Yes.” She smirks. “And I’m about to like, totally blow his mind.”
I watch her saunter away.
She’s an incredible woman. I had quite honestly severely underestimated Stassi Novikov. I imagine that lots of people do.
Idly, in another world I realize that I would have been very interested in her. She’s insanely attractive and she’s ridiculously competent.
Even with her strange Valley girl accent (I didn’t know, but maybe she grew up in California?) I feel like she’s just running circles around me.
I like that. I like smart women.
But even though Stassi is an amazing woman, I don’t think I’m attracted to her. I don’t think she does anything for me, actually, other than make me realize that she’s pretty awesome.
There’s no room in my heart for anyone except Gia.
It’s fucking terrifying.
So I watch Stassi shamelessly flirt, in Danish, with the harbor master. I sit back and let my mind drift to the next thing, which includes one of the most terrifying things that I’ve ever thought of.
I’m in love with Gia. I have been for months. Maybe even years.
If she doesn’t love me back…
I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.
Stassi returns, her tennis shoes squeaking on the dock. “I know where she is.”
I gape. “What?”
“Gia. I know where she is.”
“How…?”
“I promised him that I’d come to his house later. Which I will not be doing,” she says in a low voice. “But he told me that there’s a guy in town whose father was Irish, and whose mother was on the island. He brought some friends to his town, which is a ways away from here, about a week ago. The friends are two men and a woman,” she says with a smile. “So that’s totally where Gia is.”
“How…?”