Page 57 of Irreplaceable

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Page 57 of Irreplaceable

There were pictures of him with his parents, many with his father. Of him with kids at charity events and even celebrities from Hollywood. With his teammates—holding various trophies above their head as others sprayed them with champagne. And then there was his ex. A gorgeous Italian goddess who was young and voluptuous. Long, dark hair. Big boobs. Just a stunning woman.

And while there was some negative press surrounding the breakup, Enzo—or Lorenzo Mancini—was a beloved figure in Italy and across the world. He was known as an aggressive and tactical midfielder, valued for his deft touch and creativity. I’d seen him play with the kids in Bali, but watching him in a match against Juventus had me riveted to the screen. He was incredible.

Even so, I didn’t know him. Not like he claimed to know me. And what little I knew about Enzo was gleaned from the internet rather than the man himself.

He might be a good team player when it came to sports, but would we be able to work together to co-parent this child? At the moment, I had my doubts.

* * *

“Ooh,”Lauren said, admiring the giant bouquet of flowers on my table. “These are gorgeous.”

“And hella expensive,” Juliana said, gently lifting one of the blooms with her finger. “Daffodils aren’t even in season.”

“Did Crew send them?” Lauren asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. Enzo.”

Lauren stilled. “Enzo as in the Enzo? The asshole?”

“Yep.” I placed a charcuterie board on the table, and my friends oohed and aahed over it. Enzo’s flowers were so bright and cheerful. I didn’t want to like them, but I did.

“Ooh. He even sent a card.” Lauren plucked the paper from the yellow flowers then frowned. “What the heck does it say? I mean, I can guess at some of it, thanks to my Spanish. Let me show you I’m…better?”

I laughed and took it from her. “Let me show you that I’m a better man than the one I was yesterday. Let me show you that I can be there for you and you can trust me.”

“Ah.” Juliana tilted her head back. “That makes sense.”

“What’s that?” Alexis asked, popping a piece of cheese into her mouth.

“Daffodils symbolize honesty and truth. They can also stand for forgiveness.” Juliana gave me a meaningful look.

“Hold up. Did I miss something?” Lauren asked as the four of us took a seat at my table.

I’d been preoccupied with work since the event, and I was still trying to digest everything that had happened. I hadn’t told Alexis and Lauren about my run-in with Enzo yet, though I’d been hoping to tonight. Juliana knew that I’d talked with Enzo since the party, but I’d only given her a brief rundown.

“Enzo was at the event last weekend.”

Alexis blinked a few times. “He what?”

“Interesting. And how was the asshole?” Lauren asked, leaning back in her chair.

Hot.I tucked my hair behind my ear. “His name is Lorenzo Mancini. He—”

“Oh my god,” Lauren said before I could finish. “Lorenzo Mancini is your Italian fling?” She grabbed her phone and typed something furiously before placing it on the table. “He’s your baby daddy?”

Enzo’s face filled the screen, his expression serious. His blue shirt popped against the green field in the background, but it was his eyes that held me captive. His expression that said he would dominate anyone who stood in his path. Like he had me.

I furrowed my brow. This was getting embarrassing. “Why does everyone know who he is but me? I’m the one who slept with him.”

“Harper.” Lauren laughed. “Everyone in the world knows who Lorenzo Mancini is. He’s Italian royalty. A fútbol god. Holy shit…”

I knew she followed soccer. She and her dad had enjoyed watching games together before he’d died. And her mom’s side of the family was into the sport. But still.

“I didn’t realize you were such a fan,” I said, mostly to hide my embarrassment. My complete lack of knowledge when it came to soccer, and sports generally, was partly to blame for this mortifying predicament.

“Mm. Girl. You need to start watching some fútbol. A bunch of hot, sweaty men running around on the field. If their endurance in the bedroom is half as good as it is on the field…”

I laughed, though it was mostly to cover how foolish I felt. I wasn’t going to confirm her assumption, though just thinking about Enzo as a lover had my thighs clenching. He’d been determined. Thorough. Passionate. Many of the same qualities I’d seen in the videos of him on the field.




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