Fighting For Mr. Beautiful: Eternal City Love, Book 2 Page 2

Four days? I was out that long?

  “How long have I been in this hospital?”

  “Nine days total, and we’d like to keep you here for a few more days of observation for your spleen.”

  I look towards my best friend and meet her blue eyes pleading for her to tell me, “How did this happen?”

  Sophie looks at the doctor and he says, “You don’t remember getting shot?”

  Just as I’m about to answer, the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen—tall with thick dark hair and emerald eyes—walks in the room.

  “Elena, mia cara, I am so happy you are awake!” the man says as he hightails it to my bed.

  “Do I know you?”

  Everyone stares at me, Sophie’s mouth hangs open, and it’s so quiet. I must have said the wrong thing.

  “Elena, you don’t recognize this man?” Dr. Costa says, the first to break the silence.

  “No, should I?”

  “Oh my freakin’ god!” Sophie says as the beautiful man stares at me with pleading eyes. I study his face, searching hard for any clue of who he might be but … nothing. I’ve never seen him before. He looks like he could be a movie star—is that it?

  “I’m really sorry. I have no clue who you are.”

  The tears fall again, but this time out of anxiety and sadness.

  “It’s okay, Elena. Please don’t cry,” the man says in a deep voice with an Italian accent as he puts his hand towards mine. Without thinking, I flinch and pull my hand back. I don’t really do touchy-feely stuff with anyone—especially a stranger. He looks depressed that I’ve just rejected him.

  “Elena, what is the last thing you remember?” the doctor asks as I notice the redhead nurse is back in the room now. I think I’m starting to hyperventilate with all of this attention.

  “I remember going into the office to listen to Rock Star Media’s presentation on how we should pick up romance authors as clients and test using Pinterest to sell their novels. I remember going to lunch with an investor, picking up my dry cleaning, and coming home to watch some random crappy documentary on Netflix with Zack.”

  No one says anything. I look from stone cold face to stone cold face.

  “Sophie, is that not what happened?”

  I turn towards the only person I know in this room and look into her scared eyes.

  “Can I tell her?” Sophie asks the doctor.

  “Tell me what? Would someone just spit it out? I can’t take this bullshit anymore! I feel like I’m in some freak show with all of you staring at me with your mouths open.” I notice my voice getting louder and louder. #Freakout

  The man laughs a deep rich laugh, and I can’t help but stare at him.

  “Oh you think that’s funny?” I say towards Mr. … I don’t even know his name.

  “I’ve been waiting nine days for you to wake up and hear your sassy mouth.”

  He’s been waiting for me? My sassy mouth?

  “Elena, you are in a hospital in Rome. You took a little vacation from Rock Star Media and you’ve been living here for months. You are dating Leonardo,” Sophie says as she nods towards the man who can’t stop staring at me.

  Wait … did she say dating Leonardo? Me?

  Now it’s my turn to laugh! I can’t help it. I laugh so hard that I grab my belly. Ouch! I feel a pull at my side, and I flinch in pain.

  “Elena, are you okay? Lay back and take it easy, cara,” Leonardo says. He now sits on the bed next to me and holds my hand. I look at our hands together, not moving mine this time. I look up into his mesmerizing eyes—they look like stunning gems.

  “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you. I feel terrible.”

  I look back down at our hands, not being able to meet his eyes. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have someone I’m dating not remember me. I would be crushed. Leonardo seems to be holding it together—probably for me. I’m his girlfriend.

  He takes his hand from mine and instead cups my chin, tilting my head up to meet his eyes.

  “Elena, it’s okay. You didn’t do this on purpose. You actually saved my life.” Now he looks down at the bed.

  “How did I save your life?”

  “That bullet wasn’t aimed at you—it was aimed at me. You jumped in front of me, knocking us both to the ground. That’s when I noticed you were bleeding.”

  He sounds so defeated, and when he looks up his eyes reflect the same emotion.

  I saved his life. I jumped in front of a bullet. What the hell? The most daring thing I’ve ever done is play around with my stock investments. I definitely wouldn’t jump in front of a gun, unless it was for my family. Someone I loved. Do I love him?

  “How long have we been dating?”

  “We’ve known each other for a few months.”

  Why did he say ‘known each other’ not dating?

  “I asked how long we’ve been dating.”

  “That’s complicated. We’ve recently become a couple but I met you right when you got to Italy.”

  I took a bullet for someone I recently started to date. This doesn’t sound like me at all. What do I even know about this guy? My head hurts again from all the confusion and trying to remember.

  “Do we love each other?”

  I know it’s a bold question to ask, but I need to know the situation between myself and this extremely handsome man, a man I normally wouldn’t have the balls to talk to, let alone date.

  “Yes. I love you Elena,” Leonardo says with such strong conviction, looking me straight in the eyes. I feel his answer and his honesty deep within me. I can’t help but put myself in his shoes and the tears well up in my eyes. Why can’t I remember this man? I want to remember him so bad!

  “I think Elena should take a little break. We still have some tests we want to run on her,” says the doctor, swooping in as he senses that I’m a complete hot mess.

  3

  Leonardo

  “Do I know you?”

  Words I never knew I couldn’t bear to hear. How can she be my entire world and she doesn’t have a clue who I am? I feel a rush of emotions: anger, sadness, panic, and fear. What if she never gets her memories back?

  Elena is mine, and I will help her do anything to remember us. She looked absolutely shocked that she would take a bullet for me. I don’t know what feels worse: knowing she took a bullet that should have had me in a hospital bed or the fact that she doesn’t remember it?

  “Ah!” I scream as I knock over a hospital cart full of supplies, sending everything crashing to the floor.

  “Signor! Signor!” the hospital security guard says as he runs at me when I sink to the floor and drop my head in my hands. I feel utterly defeated.

  I will help her get her memories back or I will do everything in my power to give her even better ones. I will make sure she knows she is loved. I will fight to have Elena love me again, to look at me like she did before. I vow this.

  Elena

  Leonardo is gone and now I have a minute alone with Sophie.

  “Girl, I have to go back to the waiting room and get your family. They are going to freak when they know you are awake. Wait … you remember your family, right?”

  I laugh at her terrible joke.

  “Wow! Sophie, I still remember that you are a biatch.” Leave it to Sophie to poke fun at someone who has a case of what the doctors are calling dissociative amnesia. They say it can be caused from a head injury or physical trauma and that my memories are repressed.

  “I’m glad to see your memory loss didn’t rob you of your sense of humor. Even if it comes at the cost of you calling me a bitch.”

  “Okay, so tell me the truth. What’s the deal with this guy? Why did I grow a pair and take a bullet for him?”

  “Girl, you’ve got it bad for him. Leonardo Forte is the most eligible bachelor in all of Italy and even though you were mad at him about that model, you fought hard for your relationship. Last I knew you were back together.”

  “What model?”

  “Uh
h, I think I shouldn’t be talking about this stuff. Leonardo should probably tell you.” She looks like a deer in headlights—and that’s rare for Sophie.

  “No, as my best friend, you are going to tell me. I can’t ask a guy I just met to explain something like that. What model? And how did I end up with Rome’s most eligible bachelor? What has Italy done to me?”

  Questions swirl in my head, and before Sophie can give me any answers my mom, dad, brother, and sister burst through the room door with a pair of nurses right behind them.

  “There can only be two visitors in the room at a time,” the nurses shout at my family. My parents don’t care, as they rush over to my bed and embrace me in huge hugs. I can’t tell you how great it feels to have your family surrounding you. I look at all their faces and see the tears of joy in their eyes, and in that moment I am so freakin’ happy and relieved that I remember each and every one of them.

  “Elena, sweetheart, how are you feeling?” my mom asks. Everyone has stayed in the room, and I bet on the other side of that door the nurses are fuming. But I’m glad my family is surrounding me.

  “Physically, I’m a little sore. Mentally, I’m a mess.”

  “Because of the shooting?” Christina asks. My sister has such a calming presence—always has. When I bossed her around, as the older sister should, she always kept a level head and went along with my crazy antics. Now she’s a kindergarten teacher. I think I helped train her for that role nicely.

  “Well, yes, because of the shooting but also because of the amnesia.”

  “Amnesia? What are you talking about?” my brother asks.

  “The doctor says I have dissociative amnesia—I can’t remember recent events. I have no memories at all of being in Italy, or of Leonardo.”

  My family members look at me with wide eyes, trying hard to hide the fact that they can’t believe the news. They ask more questions about my most recent memories, but luckily Sophie is here to fill them in. I start to realize I’m extremely tired, and I drift off to sleep, even with all the commotion around me.

  I wake up to an empty hospital room. It’s kind of eerie as I’m used to it being full of my loved ones. While tubes came out of me all over the place before, I notice I’m only hooked up to one machine now, monitoring my heart rate. I hope that’s a sign that I’ll be able to leave here soon. I want to go home.

  Wait, where’s home for me? I can’t believe I’m in Italy. Since I started Rock Star Media I haven’t taken a single vacation. I’ve been ‘go go go’ since the day I signed my name on the dotted line and took out that business loan. Which, I’ll have you know, my company paid back within its first year. I digress.

  What drove me to leave my business behind for so long and pick up in another country? This sounds so unlike the super conservative, sensible woman that I am. That I used to be?

  The door gently swings open and the man from earlier, Leonardo, peaks his head inside. We lock eyes. Man, those emerald eyes are absolutely breathtaking. I’m jealous of the girl he remembers, who must have been able to stare into them whenever she wanted.

  “I didn’t know you were awake.”

  “I just woke up. Trying to collect my thoughts before facing my family again. And I hear the police are coming to get my statement soon. Everyone seems to have a lot of questions that I just can’t answer.”

  Leonardo walks into the room and sits in the chair next to me; I notice he doesn’t sit close to me on the bed like he did before. He’s probably giving me my space, which I appreciate. I also notice that as he walks he carries himself with quiet confidence. Nothing boastful or cocky—it’s extremely sexy.

  I realize I’ve been caught staring at him in silence and feel my cheeks start to blush.

  “How did we meet?” I say, breaking the silence and my awkward staring.

  “I came into the coffee shop you were working in—Stella’s.”

  “I still can’t believe I work in a coffee shop. Other than using my Keurig, I don’t think I’ve ever made my own coffee before.” I chuckle at my confession, my cheeks probably turning a whole new shade of red. Did he like me because he thought I was domestic? I sure hope not!

  “You weren’t that good in the beginning, but Marco has taught you so much. You can make many different drinks and you even bake desserts.” Behind his words I feel he has a sense of pride for me.

  “Hold the phone! You’re saying someone has allowed me into his precious kitchen to bake something and I haven’t burned the place down to the ground yet? This blows my mind!”

  Now Leonardo really starts to laugh and I can’t help but stare at his gorgeous mouth and the sexiest, fullest lips I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what’s come over me, but I have the sudden urge to climb out of this hospital bed, crawl into his lap, and claim his mouth.

  I suddenly realize that this is the first time we’ve been in the room alone together since the shooting. I also realize I’ve never had the urge to jump a man before. I’m not really a ‘take charge’ kind of woman when it comes to that kind of stuff. And by ‘stuff’ I mean … sex.

  The machine tracking my heart rate starts to show the numbers are climbing – revealing how nervous, embarrassed, and horny I am just looking at Leonardo. We both stare at the screen then fall into another awkward silence.

  “I’m sorry that I don’t remember you.”

  “I can’t say that it doesn’t break my heart that you now look into my eyes and see a total stranger. But, I also can’t say that I’m upset as this was not your fault and you do not need to apologize for anything. I keep replaying in my head, over and over again, the moment you got shot. You are a crazy woman, but you are my crazy woman, and I can’t believe you took a bullet for me. I will repay you and I will help you get your memories back.”

  No man has ever spoken to me like this before. The immature, cocky douchebags I dated before just wanted sex, a connection into the corporate world, or a sugar mama—I wasn’t going to be any of those things, and most of those guys quickly dumped me.

  “I don’t want to let you down,” I say, looking down at my hands, which are balled into fists in my lap. I clench them to release some stress.

  Leonardo moves to the edge of his chair and leans in towards me. He cups my chin and lifts my face.

  “Elena, you will never let me down. Cara, I love you. I know right now you don’t love me, but I will fight to bring your memories back or make you fall in love with me all over again.”

  He speaks with such passion that he nearly brings me to tears. My eyes are definitely watering when he hands me a tissue.

  “You are unlike any man I have ever known. I don’t give my heart away easily, I never have. I’ve always been guarded, especially around men, because my track record isn’t stellar. But this,” I say, waving my hands between us, “is something I want to fight for too.”

  4

  It’s been two days since leaving the hospital. I meet with the Carabinieri. “I don’t remember a damn thing,” was probably not what they wanted to hear from the only person who they believe saw the shooter. Apparently I ran across the street towards Leonardo screaming and jumped in front of the bullet, which leads them to believe I saw danger. But I don’t even know the answer to the simplest question: was the shooter a man or a woman?

  The news reports say there are no suspects or leads, and the police are asking anyone with information to come forward. Leonardo tells me that hundreds of people were around us on the street; I can tell he’s desperately hoping people caught something on their smartphones. Leonardo has offered a million dollar reward for anyone with information that leads to an arrest. The tip lines are now blowing up, but the police say most of it is bullshit.

  It freaks me out that there’s someone walking the streets who wanted to kill Leonardo. Was I worried that my life was in danger before? Will the shooter try again?

  Even with a crazy shooter on the loose, I’ve decided to stay in Rome. I feel like I’m part of a story that’s bigger than m
yself now. It’s hard to explain, but I’m in no hurry to rush back to the life of an overworked, stressed CEO who never had any fun and dated a bunch of losers. I came here for a reason and I want to remember the things I’ve learned so far. I know my company is in good hands with Sophie’s help, and I do get weekly reports.

  Since I’m staying, Dr. Costa told me to try to go about my day as best as I could and the memories may flash back. He also said they may not. I have no clue what a ‘typical day’ was for me so I’ve had to rely on the people close to me here in Italy.

  Yesterday I spent some time in Stella’s Caffé hanging out with Marco, Alessandra, and Leonardo. I’m proud of my pre-amnesia self for getting out of my comfort zone and actually making new friends. Who was the last true friend I made before Sophie?

  Marco treats me like I am his little sister, but I guess technically I am his boss. He tells me I saw he was in a desperate situation and I offered my help. I am the majority owner of Stella’s Caffé. Go figure!

  Alessandra? Damn this girl should be walking a runway! When she first saw me, she pulled me into the biggest hug with, of course, the Italian double-cheek kiss. She told me that we met in a gym and that I take her classes—I’m glad to see that I continued to value my fitness here in Rome. Just like Marco, I get a vibe that she’s protective of me and wants to see me pull through.

  Then there’s Leonardo. Sweet Leonardo! He treats me like a queen, and I still can’t remember anything about him. I’m constantly asking questions—I feel like Drew Barrymore in Fifty First Dates—as I get to know him all over again. He’s told me a lot, but I sense he’s not telling the full story. Everything seems a little too happy-go-lucky—have we ever had a real fight? Knowing me, we definitely have, but he doesn’t divulge any information when I ask uncomfortable questions. I’ll have to pull Alessandra or Sophie aside to get the scoop.

  I spend the afternoon working my first shift at Stella’s. The customers are so unbelievably kind! I can’t remember the last time I went to work and left with a smile on my face—usually I’m pulling out my curly brown hair after everyone’s demands. But not here! I’m treated like I could be one of their family members. Everyone who comes to the register places their order and tells me a little story about how we met or what they know about me. #Loved