Page 72 of Captive Rival: Armani
For a few minutes, I sit in stunned silence, sipping my cold coffee. I can’t believe Armani just gave me such lovely and genuine advice.
He’s a better man than I ever guessed.
25
CANDI
Darkness has fallenby the time I work up the courage to call Juliana.
The wine I had with dinner helps a little as I slip into the small library on the second floor with my phone in my pocket and a second glass of wine in my hand. Armani’s words from our conversation earlier stuck with me all day, and the more I thought about his advice, the more confident I felt that it’s time for me to formally withdraw from the Brunos’ spy game.
It’s time to finally tell Juliana no.
I figured a call would be easier than saying any of this to her face. I don’t want to lose my nerve.
But when I bring up her contact, my anxiety gets the best of me anyway. So I down half of the wine I brought up here for moral support—a lovely new red blend that the Bellantis are launching next season, named after baby Liliana—and then wonder why I feel so panicked.
I guess it’s like Armani said. I’m not accustomed to saying no to Juliana, and I’ve spent most of my life disregarding my own needs in favor of others. It’s second nature for me to just say yes, go with the flow, and avoid rocking the boat.
The thing is, I can’t go on like this. I’m done spying, or pretending to spy, on the Bellantis.
She picks up on the third ring, sounding a little distracted. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey! Are you busy?” I blurt, my voice unnaturally high-pitched.
“Nope, just sitting on the couch. Is everything okay? You never call this late. Is it…him?”
It’s barely past nine, but it’s been a while since we’ve had an evening chat. And now that I’m thinking about it, I realize that we never talk like we used to. Before Armani, we’d call or at least text each other almost every day. We really have grown apart over the last few months.
“Um, no. That’s all fine. I thought I should check in. See how things are going.”
She pauses. “They’re going the same as they were yesterday. I’m not calling off the wedding.”
“Right. Of course not! I just figured I’d…see if you wanted to delegate anything.”
There’s a rustling sound in the background and I wonder if she’s flipping through bridal magazines without me. The thought makes me a little sad.
“Okay, Candi. What is up with you? You’re acting kinda…off.” More rustling.
“What’s that noise? Are you marking up that marriage contract? Make sure you put in a clause that says he has to bring you breakfast in bed every morning and give you a foot massage every night.”
She laughs, and it calms my nerves a little.
“I’m actually going through a box of samples for wedding decorations. I never even thought about most of this stuff. Tablecloths, napkins, bunting for the chairs, table place cards. I went to a wedding expo today—it was really last minute, or I would have asked you to come with—and brought home a literalcarloadof stuff. And of course I have, like, forty-eight hours to pick everything.”
A wave of disappointment washes over me. “Oh, no worries. I get it. Maybe I could come over tomorrow and help you go through it all?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. The wedding is coming up so fast, I decided I’d better choose everything myself and get it over with. Plus, the vendors were super nice when I explained my short time frame. I’ve already made all the right connections. They’re basically waiting on my call so they can get cranking.”
“Sounds good,” is all I can think of to say.
I get a sour taste in my mouth, and it’s not from the wine.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about something…” I start, my heart starting to pound again.
She makes an exasperated sound. “Look. I know you’re worried. I know this is super rushed. And yeah, I don’t really know the guy. But it’s a business arrangement, Candi. And it’s temporary, so—”
“It’s not about your wedding,” I interrupt.
