Our Little Secret: Rossi Family, #5

By Palmer Jones

Friends with benefits worked until someone moved back home and upset all of her plans.

 

Their arrangement had been flawless. Zoey Rossi embraced her workaholic tendencies while the weeks between their reunions ticked away. With no significant other demanding her attention, she built her business on her own terms. The name Rossi Interiors didn't become a nationwide sensation in design by adhering to a mundane 9-to-5 routine or stressing over a relationship.

But then he returned to Virginia, derailing her world and setting that never-failing gossip train in motion. Because the first time Austin left their small town, it was in the back of a police car on the way to prison. And even though that was nearly fifteen years ago, his disreputable past is again up for discussion, amplified by his tattoos and loud motorcycle.

His past doesn't bother Zoey. She knows why he ended up in jail and everything he's done since to build a great life and career. He just needs to live that life somewhere else before her overprotective family discovers their year-long string of hook-ups.

But even more worrisome is Austin's determination to make her fall in love with him.

It won't happen. Zoey Rossi will never take that risk and give her heart to another man.

 

Our Little Secret is book five of the Rossi Family series. It can be read as a standalone and, as always, includes a HEA.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sweet Blooms Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Sep 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223308874

Palmer Jones

Palmer Jones writes fun and flirty, romantic fiction. Born and raised in the South, she loves to travel but will always call Georgia her home. With a degree in accounting, she spends part of her day immersed in numbers. The rest of the time is spent with her friends, family, and hiding away in the worlds she creates through her stories.

Book preview

1

M s. Rossi, I love this design. You captured the aesthetic I wanted perfectly. No wonder you’re considered the best.

Zoey Rossi’s latest client, Kathryn Whitaker, sat across the desk, her gray hair pulled back elegantly, showing off what appeared to be four-carat diamond earrings. Pearls contrasted against her brown skin. The office held a distinct fragrance of Dolce & Gabbana’s The One, warm and spicy and a perfect highlight to her elegance.

Single, never married, Ms. Whitaker was the sole owner of a regional bakery. A self-made millionaire. Never answering to anyone. Never compromising between her career and her personal life.

And that was precisely what Zoey intended for her life path.

I’m glad you like it. I’ll travel to Great Falls once a week to ensure the contractors are staying on top of things the way we intend. Because when you build a five-million-dollar home, you expect the best. And that was Rossi Interior Design.

The desk phone rang.

Ms. Whitaker stood. I’ll let you get on with your day. I know how busy it can be when you’re the company owner. She shook Zoey’s hand. Again, thank you. This is my dream home, and I wouldn’t have anyone else designing it.

You’re welcome. Zoey waited until her guest left the office before answering her phone. Rossi Interiors.

Good morning. I wanted to know if you finished the design of the addition to my home? This is William Benson.

Good morning, Mr. Benson. I finished this morning. In a tiny shred of time between her yoga session at six and stepping into her office at nine, she’d managed to get through the shabby chic design. Personally, she disliked the overused style, but she tried to deliver something amazing to her clients, even if they didn’t take her suggestions not to have wicker furniture.

My assistant will send you the final markup and schedule a meeting time. We can go through the design and discuss any more changes. And her assistant should’ve caught this call before it came through. She glanced down the hallway from her office, her assistant on another call, looking just as frazzled. Maybe she needed two of them now.

Zoey’s cell phone vibrated on the table, a video call coming in from her niece.

Mr. Benson, don’t worry. My assistant will call you back to schedule that appointment. I have another call I need to take.

Oh, well, okay—

Have a good day. She set down the receiver. It rang again almost immediately.

After swiping her thumb across her cell phone screen, Taylor, her oldest brother’s stepdaughter, appeared on the screen. Is everything okay with the baby?

Taylor smiled, looking more like Ashley each day since turning sixteen. Vivid blue eyes and auburn hair. Tristan is fine as long as he likes Mexican food. I caught Mom eating salsa by the spoonful. Kyle just took her to get a pedicure. Do you have time to talk about the baby shower?

Nope. I don’t even have time to take a breath.

Hold on one second. Let me get this call. She put Taylor on mute before answering her desk phone. Rossi Interiors.

Hi, Zoey. This is Jeanne Butler with Butler Restoration. That sofa and love seat you had reupholstered are ready for pickup or delivery.

Great. Zoey made a note on her tablet for that client. I’ll be in touch for delivery at their home. Possibly early next week if the painting is complete. Thank you, Jeanne. You always do great work.

You’re welcome. We need to get together for drinks sometime soon.

I’d love that. That was the truth, but she’d never find the time. Between her business success and splitting time with her family, Zoey barely had time to remember to eat. She’d skipped lunch, now that she thought of it.

Goodbye, Zoey.

Bye, she said as another email hit her inbox, this one from a construction company in North Carolina, asking for a consult. She fired off a reply, telling them to send her the details so she could send back an estimate. No use spending time on a design if they couldn’t meet her price point.

Zoey unmuted her cell phone. Okay, Taylor. I have a few minutes. She flipped her work phone to Do Not Disturb. So. The party. You have my attention.

Aunt Olivia said we could have it at her house. Taylor pulled out a notepad. It will give her a reason to make Uncle Landon finish landscaping their backyard. Well, she actually said that she could guilt-trip your brother to get off his lazy ass and finish landscaping the back.

Lovely to see my sister teaching you how to talk like a Rossi. Just watch your mouth around our mother. Your Grandma Dolly doesn’t put up with creative language. And none of your uncles are lazy. Just busy as hell like the rest of us. What about food?

Zoey tapped through her tablet, pulling up her notes for the baby shower. With the size of her family, someone was having a birthday or shower of some kind every other month. The weddings were through, however. Zoey was the last Rossi standing; she’d remain alone, happy, and successful.

It’s a boy—

Zoey cut her off with a grunt. Do something other than blue.

Red like salsa?

Zoey snickered. Red, it is. Food? Mexican?

Taylor made a face like she might be sick. Kyle and I will barf if we eat it again. I thought about Italian. The last time I spent the night with Olivia, she and Nico made a bunch of antipasto platters. Like the meat and cheese and stuff. I mentioned it to Mom when I got home, and she said it sounded delicious. She leaned closer to the camera and whispered, And then she ate like four of my Lunchables.

No wonder she has heartburn with all the random food she eats. But I like the idea of heavy appetizers. That’s easy to do. What about an afternoon baby shower? Although knowing our crew, it will probably run all night, so let’s make it for a Saturday.

A text popped up on her cell phone screen, covering part of Taylor’s head.

Ready for next week?

The person who sent the text wasn’t someone she discussed with her family. Wasn’t someone she took out in public. He was the only guilty pleasure she allowed in her life.

As Taylor continued talking about the party and the random things her mother had eaten, Zoe flipped to the calendar on her tablet.

Work was so busy she’d forgotten about their date. Three days in D.C. Alone. No way she could pull that right now. She flipped through the next six weeks of her calendar. Then eight. Then ten. Packed. She didn’t have time to take a deep breath, let alone sneak away for a few days to meet him.

God, but she damn sure wanted to. Wanted to blow off everyone, every responsibility, and lie in his bed and do nothing.

She pressed her lips together. Well. That was a poor description. They definitely did something while together. Like doing whatever he said because she didn’t have to make decisions with him.

But no one else could run her company. She was Rossi Interiors and loved it that way.

Only one solution…break it off and focus on work.

I’m too busy, and you need to work too. Best to just cut it off now.

Zoey hit Send on the short but sweet text. Austin would understand. Their time together needed to end. She’d definitely enjoyed herself. A year’s worth of secret hookups had been fun and exciting. But her life was her job. She liked it that way. Having him and that freedom waiting for her only doubled her frustration.

Zoey pushed him out of her mind, taking notes from Taylor’s endless ideas. She’d enlist Olivia and her other sisters-in-law to help pull it together. They had only a few weeks until the world met baby Tristan and she’d be an aunt for the fourth time.

Her cell phone rang.

Taylor, I need to take this call.

Sure thing. Bye, Aunt Zoey.

The Washington, D.C., area code could mean only one man.

I told you I’m busy. She opened her work email, multitasking with the four new emails that had hit her inbox since the call with Taylor began.

So it seems. Gorgeous, let’s talk about this text message.

The deep rumble of Austin’s voice caused a shiver she didn’t expect. He didn’t have a voice made for reciting romantic poems or whispering sweet nothings to a lover, not that she could begin to fathom what a sweet nothing was. But that voice was created to whisper dirty nothings, something he’d done plenty.

Shaking off the memories, she asked, What about it? Seems self-explanatory. We’re done. She clicked on an email from a major hotel chain. That was unusual. She didn’t do large commercial projects like hotels.

Did you have something come up next week?

Do I have something next week? She laughed a real laugh that sounded a little maniacal at the end. Yes, Austin. I’m booked up for the next ten years, it feels like. This thing between us needs to be over. It was supposed to be one night and turned into a year. Any longer, and they’d qualify for a relationship.

Not in a million years will I be a girlfriend again to anyone.

Zoey scanned the email from the hotel. It was an offer to submit a design proposal for a new hotel in Richmond. One designed specifically to represent the city. Interesting. A one-of-a-kind boutique hotel. She’d stayed at the Chicago location two years ago and loved it.

The silence on the phone line made her pause in reading the proposal’s requirements and remember he was on the line. Austin?

I’m still here. Trying to understand how seeing me occasionally is cramping your work life.

Because I want to see you and not work.

She straightened her shoulders against that train of thought. Honey, don’t take this personally. Look, it was fun. I enjoyed myself—

I made sure of that.

She closed her eyes. He had. But Austin’s bedroom skills didn’t grow her business. Didn’t make her the best. Austin. I’m serious. We’re through. I’m drowning in work. I don’t have time to run off to meet you.

He chuckled, and she bit her lower lip. She loved his laugh, too. I’m not giving up on you simply because you have to work. Before she could argue, he added, But I’ll accept your decision for now. Goodbye, duchess.

The moment he ended the call, she flipped her phone to Silent and tossed it into her purse to focus. It’s fine, she muttered. He’d get the message eventually. He’d find out that her life, her work, her priorities couldn’t be rearranged. She liked being single. Neither Austin nor any other man would change her mind.

2

D id you hire the last person you interviewed? Olivia Rossi shouted over the drills in the background of the phone call.

Zoey removed the lid from her coffee cup, setting it on the counter to add sugar. I did. It’s helped. I actually made him my assistant’s assistant. I should probably come up with a new title for Kara.

You could always call her Highest Paid Assistant in Virginia. That has a nice ring to it.

She did pay her well. But the woman worked her ass off to make sure Rossi Interiors ran smoothly. I’ll think about it. Right now, I have a meeting with the hotel to review my initial proposal.

Can’t believe you’re taking on that job. You’re going to burn out.

Zoey laughed. Says the woman that decided to do a massive refurbishment of a mini mansion while you and Nico ran full-time construction crews. I think the Rossis are just wired to work hard. Look at Blake and Kyle. Landon and Jake. All of us are as successful as we are because we bust our asses at our jobs.

She hoped the hotel saw that dedication at her ten-o’clock meeting today. This design opportunity was huge. She’d toyed with getting into a more commercial field but never made the leap. This was the push she needed.

Shit, Olivia muttered. That’s not how you tape drywall. Damn newbies. I need to go, Zoe. Good luck today.

Thanks. Zoey reached up to her earbud, ending the call. She blew on her coffee and then sipped. Perfect temperature. Medium roast with a touch of sugar. Once this hit her bloodstream, she’d be ready for that presentation.

Excuse me, beautiful. A man set a hand on her hip as he reached around to snatch a napkin from the dispenser.

Zoey Rossi shoved his tattooed hand away and swung around, finger raised and ready to tell him off, but it clicked before she even saw his blue eyes.

She knew those tattoos. That voice. That cologne.

Austin.

The last person she expected to see on a Monday morning in downtown Richmond, Virginia. She’d broken it off a month ago and not a word. Now…this?

She swallowed her shock, willing her lungs to work. You’re here?

It’s me, gorgeous. He smirked and held his arms out wide. Surprise.

She smacked his chest. Surprise, my ass. You’re supposed to be in D.C. He’d dropped by Richmond on occasion during their time together, but it was rare. Those were her terms. He was separate from her life. That meant being out of her city, away from her family, and kept to herself as a secret pleasure.

Austin! the barista shouted, setting a coffee cup on the counter.

He strode across the shop with his cocky swagger, inviting most women and a few men to take a second look. Who could blame them? He was hot in that bad-boy-meets-businessman kind of way, like if Henry Cavill and Charlie Hunnam had a clean-cut brother with tattoos.

They usually went a few weeks between secret hookups, but those were over. Cutting him out of her life had worked exactly like she’d hoped. Complete focus on her job.

Shaking her head, she stirred her coffee before replacing the lid. And now he was here, messing everything up again. How long are you in town? she asked when he drew closer, still in disbelief.

He evaded the question. What are you doing right now?

She frowned. That’s a stupid question.

I think Mrs. Jackson, our fifth-grade teacher, said there were no stupid questions.

She pursed her lips. Then it’s an obvious answer. She motioned to her outfit. High heels, tailored suit, coffee. Work. You know. The thing most of us do on Monday mornings. She lifted her eyebrows. "Which brings me back to my first question. Why aren’t you at work?"

He threw the lid to his coffee away and leaned a hip on the counter. I took a few days off. Wanted to clear up that text message in person, and I knew you liked coming here.

So you’re stalking me?

It’s called a surprise.

That’s something a stalker would say.

He chuckled. God, I’ve missed you. I thought you might like my company. He sipped his coffee, his dark brown eyes full of sexual promise. Naked company if you can squeeze me into your schedule, he murmured behind the cup. Since you wouldn’t come to me, I came to you.

Zoey sighed.

Damn.

The entire arrangement should’ve been over, and the longer he studied her, waiting for her answer, the more she began to cave. It didn’t help that he looked so freaking delicious.

The man was jacked. His muscles stretched his white T-shirt tight over his arms and chest. His skin seemed tanner than she remembered, like he’d taken every advantage of the warm spring weather with long motorcycle rides.

He epitomized sexy. He looked badass between the matte black bike he rode, his body, and his countless tattoos. Almost like he hoped someone would say something to him just so he could kick the shit out of them for fun. And