Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
He waits until I hang up before speaking.
“I’m starting to understand why your vendors are afraid of you.”
“They aren’t afraid of me. They respect my attention to detail.”
He steps farther into the room, then pauses like he’s choosing his words more carefully than usual. “Gia’s coming over tonight.”
I blink at him in surprise. “What?”
“Nico too. Matteo, if he’s not dealing with something.”
I sit up a little straighter. “Why?”
“You’ve been stuck in this house for three days. I figured having people here might help.”
He doesn’t look smug about it. He doesn’t look like he expects applause. If anything, he looks a little uncomfortable, like thoughtfulness is a suit that doesn’t fit him quite right but he’s wearing it anyway.
I glance down at the fabric samples, unable to meet his gaze.
“You invited everyone because I’m miserable?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Seven.”
I nod and close my laptop. I haven’t showered in days, and my hair is a tangled mess. Getting presentable is going to take effort. I brush past him on my way upstairs and don’t say another word. Still, I feel his eyes on me as I go.
When I come downstairs at exactly 6:57, Gia is already handing Sebastian her coat. Her face lights up when she sees me.
“Come on,” she says, looping her arm through mine. “I need you to tell Nico that saying ‘you look tired’ is not a compliment, even if he adds ‘but beautiful’ after.”
“It was meant to be supportive,” Nico says from the dining room.
“It was an attack,” Gia yells to him as she leads me toward the table.
I look at my brother. “That was terrible.”
“I’m outnumbered.” He shrugs helplessly.
That’s all it takes to lift the dark cloud hanging over me. My two favorite people in the world arguing over something so inconsequential. Nico takes his seat, and Sebastian appears seemingly out of nowhere to sit beside him.
“Matteo should be here soon,” he says.
It’s all so normal. So domestic. To an outside observer, this would look like a typical dinner between good friends. Maybe, just for a few hours, I can pretend my life really is that simple.
22
SEBASTIAN
Gia is halfway through the story about the first event she and Val ever worked together. Apparently, a stylist accused half the staff of stealing a diamond necklace before realizing she’d tucked it into her own bra for safekeeping. Val laughs so hard she nearly chokes on her water.
Nico immediately reaches over to pat her back, which only makes her laugh harder.
“I’m fine,” she chokes out, waving him off. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”
“You sound like a dying seal,” Nico says.
Gia points her fork at him. “I thought the stylist was going to have a medical episode, and Val was standing behind the bar biting the inside of her cheek so hard I thought she’d draw blood.”
“I was trying to be professional,” Val says, wiping at the corner of her mouth.
“You were turning purple.”
“I didn’t laugh in her face, did I?”
“That is a very low bar for professionalism,” Matteo says.
Val lifts her glass toward him. “Welcome to event planning.”
I sit back and watch her. She’s still pale, and I can see the strain around her mouth every time the conversation slows, but she’s laughing. Really laughing. It’s good to see after the last few days. She deserves more of this. Dinner, friends, stupid stories, and even Nico annoying the hell out of her.
“I still think the keynote speaker at my gala was worse,” I say.
Val turns toward me with instant betrayal on her face. “Don’t you dare.”
Gia gasps. “What keynote speaker?”
“Mr. Brighton,” I answer, giving Val a knowing smirk.
She points her fork at me. “I was starting to like you tonight.”
Nico leans forward, delighted. “What happened with Brighton?”
Val groans and drops her face into one hand. “He had three cocktails before cocktail hour was over and started practicing his speech to a ficus.”
Gia makes a strangled noise. “I’m sorry, a ficus?”
“It was near the podium,” Val says. “I think he thought it was an assistant.”
Matteo sets his wine down. “Was the ficus a good listener?”
“Better than most assistants I’ve met,” Val says. “But not better than mine, obviously.”
Nico laughs, and Val smiles in a way I haven’t seen much lately. It makes her look younger. Less guarded. Like this is how she must have been before Adrian got his hands on her life and fucked everything good up for her.
I keep that thought to myself. I have enough sense not to ruin the first good dinner we’ve had.
The meal stretches longer than I expected. Gia tells another event story, this one involving a socialite, a broken heel, and a dog that was not supposed to be inside the venue. Nico tells everyone about Val deciding she wanted to be a business owner at eight and charging the neighborhood kids a dollar to watch her perform in the backyard.